Page 29 of Jackrabbit

The drive was the kind of quiet that happened after a good dump of snow—heavy and fresh. Not the kind of empty silence that had been haunting Beau for days.

Beau took him to his house, led Colt inside and listened for the patter of his cat’s feet. Sure enough, the fluffy shit came running down the hall the second the front door shut. He bypassed Beau entirely and twined himself between Colt’s ankles, purring a frantic, deep purr.

“Hey.” Colt knelt down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Did you miss me?”

The cat answered with a series of chitters and meows, standing on his hind legs so he could headbutt Colt in the chin so hard it made a noise.

Beau shook his head and headed to the kitchen, where he pulled out a frying pan.

“Whatcha making?” Colt asked as Beau dropped some butter into the skillet.

He turned to see Colt standing by the kitchen island holding Beau’s twenty-five pound cat like a stuffed animal. The cat licked his lips and stared at Beau like he was daring him to comment about it.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Beau turned back to the counter and dropped bread on a plate so he could spread mayo on the outside and drop it in the pan.

It sizzled as he pulled cheese out of the fridge and loaded the sandwiches up.

Colt hummed. “Pretty sure white bread, American cheese, and canned soup aren’t on my list of approved food items.”

“Got some shredded cabbage and chicken in the fridge if you’re feeling too good for this.” Colt was watching him with red-rimmed eyes. The crying had brought out the green of them so hard that it looked almost unnatural. “How ‘bout that?”

Smiling, Colt hiked the cat higher and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “Just checking, Mr. Moore.”

“Beau.”

Chapter 18

Colt froze with his nose pressed into Cat’s furry neck. Beau had already turned back to the stove, busy flipping sandwiches.

“What?”

“You can call me Beau.” That drawl was low and soft as Beau turned to look at him again. “Think I’d like to hear my name again. Least from someone who might understand why I stopped usin’ it.”

Swallowing, Colt gently set Cat back on the floor. He thought about Sutton Tate, about how it had felt to watch, horrified, as his car had lived up to Sutton’s moniker and slammed into Beau’s car so hard it had sent them both into a catastrophic crash. Sledgehammer. Beau’s best friend. His brother.

“Beau.” Colt watched Beau for any wince, any regret.

Beau kept his eyes on Colt for a long moment before his shoulders loosened, and he nodded. “That’s right.”

Mercifully, he went back to stirring the soup before he could see the way Colt’s eyes were welling up again.

***

When they pulled up to the shop together at five the next morning, Camila was already waiting for them. She was two hours earlier than usual, standing at the front door and tapping her heel. Beau’s headlights washed over her, and she glanced up. Her eyes caught on Colt, and he sank down in his seat.

“She called me,” Beau reminded him. “Bawling her eyes out while she told me what you were up to. She was afraid, Colt. Scared out her damn mind. She blames herself for where your head was at, too.”

Colt let out a long breath as they watched Camila hustle up to the truck and stand a few feet away with her arms crossed. Then he pushed the door open and hopped out, and Camila threw her arms around his neck.

“Ow, Mila, damn,” Colt hissed as Beau opened his own door. He heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh again. “Oh my God! Why are you so mean?”

“Because you're a fucking idiot and I hate you,” Camila snapped, but she snagged him around the neck with both arms and buried her face in his chest. “I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to be.” Eyes closed, Colt kissed the side of her head as Beau passed them. “I'm an idiot, and…and I get even worse this time of year.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Beau unlocked the front door and glanced back in time to catch Camila watching him over Colt’s shoulder. She gave him a watery smile and mouthed ‘thank you.’ Nodding, Beau turned and stepped into the shop.