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“Yes. Have a seat. Coffee?”

“Please.” They went to “their” table, and Dalton handed Tank one of the raggedy laminated menus from the holder. “They’re open for breakfast and lunch every day but Easter and Christmas.”

“I would be here every day getting fat.” Tank sat next to him, which heated Dalton’s whole body right up.

“You’ll find some of us here every day. Dakota waits tables on the weekends, even.” He grinned, because in his head, Dakota was a little girl in pigtails, not a high school junior.

“Lord. I haven’t seen her in what? Seven years? Eight? Surely she’s not old enough to wait tables.” Tank shook his head, looking a little shell-shocked.

“She’s seventeen. She’s a junior rodeo queen and one hell of a barrel racer.” Dalton got it. “And Darius is having the time of his life at college.”

“Good for them.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Buttheads.”

“Y’all were buttheads in high school too,” Tank reminded them.

“We were angels,” he shot back, even though he knew better. They’d had Deb to help their exploits and each other to feed off. They’d been out of their minds and in trouble more than they were out.

Then Pops had put them to work, exhausting them enough that they had to rest.

He figured that would happen soon enough with the younger Jakobys.

Maybe not Darius. He didn’t seem to have the rodeoing gene. Poor kid.

That had to suck in their family.

“Oh God.” Tank was looking at the menu, eyes wide. “I want one of everything.”

“I like the huevos Mexicana best, but Bubba likes the migas, and the huevos rancheros are pretty special.”

“Hmm. I’ll get the rancheros, then. With pecan pancakes, since she mentioned them.”

Rock on. That meant he could steal a few bites.

Patty brought three coffee cups over. “Anyone need creamer?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grabbed the little dish of creamers from the table beside them. “Okay, what you gonna have, Mr. Tank? I know the boys’ orders.”

Tank ordered, which made Patricia chuckle. “I like a man who eats.”

“Deb says she’s helping Momma at the main house, so she’ll take hers to go. Also, supper’s at five. Momma’s frying chicken.” Dustin grinned like that was the best news ever.

“Tell her we’ll bring tamales.”

“Yes, ma’am!”Oh, tamales. Hell yes.

“Damn, I haven’t had those in an age. My momma’s sister-in-law Terri makes them at Christmas.” Tank chuckled. “Or I guess she still does.”

“Juana, that’s Patty’s mama? She makes them every week on Friday.”

“Yum.” Tank rubbed his belly. “Gonna have to start working out.”

“We have a gym at my place,” Dustin told Tank. “Because Dalton put in the media room.”

“Oh?” Tank glanced at Dalton, then nodded at Dustin. “Well, if you don’t mind….”