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It made him grin, the way Tank loved his coffee.

“So, what do y’all plan to do tomorrow?” Buick asked, turning to talk to them. “There’s a local museum!”

He imagined he would be nursing a hangover and spending the day in the pool, if he was honest.

“We’re having a big old spread at the main house tonight,” Dustin said. “Y’all should come. Bring yourself some drinks and something to share. Momma’s making fried chicken.”

Good. Yes. Invite Tank’s ex, Bubba. Good job.

“Oh, that would rock, huh guys?” Buick bounced. “Awesome.”

Tank rolled his eyes. “Bring something that won’t offend Mrs. Jakoby, huh? No store pies.”

“Got it.” Buick chuckled. “How about chips and dip?”

“That works.”

“We can bring enough to munch on for days,” one of the other riders said. “What’s your favorite, Dalton?”

“I like jalapeño ranch. Bubba likes pimento cheese.”

“French onion,” Buick and Tank said together.

“Okay, then. One of everything.”

Patricia brought their plates, then fetched the other guys’ coffee. The eggs were hot as hell, the jalapeños green and sharp as razors.Fuck yeah.

“Oh, look at that.” Tank moaned a little. “Yum.”

“You want a bite?” Dalton scooped up a nibble and handed the fork over.

Tank nipped the bit right up. “Oh, I’ll get those next time.” Then he looked at the huevos rancheros and dug in.

Conversation stopped as they feasted. His meal came with beans and rice, and God, this was the best. He loved the beans here.

Tank hummed happily over the fluffy, golden pancakes too. He shared a bite of that with Dalton, who loved how Tank wasn’t shy with butter and syrup.

“So damn good.”

“You three sound like you’re having an orgy over there.” Buick was a turd. “You can’t hog both twins, Tank, my man.”

“Buick.” Tank didn’t raise his voice, never snapped. He just said the man’s name and stared.

The bull rider’s cheeks went bright red. “Sorry, y’all.”

Dustin snorted. “Just keep a hat on it, huh?”

Buick nodded easily. “My mouth runs on ahead of my brain.”

“Happens to the best of us sometimes.” Dalton deserved a Brownie button for letting Buick off the hook.

“Happens to him too much,” one of the other guys said. He punched Buick on the arm.

Dalton chuckled, shook his head. Lord have mercy, he didn’t want to like Buick, but he did. The guy was just too good-natured to be mean. He would warn Buick off Dustin, but that wasn’t personal.

A traveling bull rider wasn’t what his Bubba needed.

Tank fed him another bite, distracting him.