Nusejka ♥P

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“How is it that you can love cats so much and hate all other forms of animal?”
Ty frowned. “I don’t hate all other animals.”
“Horses. Dogs. Chipmunks.”
“They’re twitchy, Zane. And chipmunks have shifty eyes.”
“Moths?”
“They have erratic flight patterns!”
Zane doubled over, laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath.
Ty glared at him. “I’m glad my phobias amuse you.”
“Just the fact that someone like you has a chipmunk phobia amuses me,” Zane gasped.

“I needed a break.”
“In the broom closet?” Ty leaned against the door and met Zane’s eyes, smiling and shaking his head.
Zane moved in close, placing a palm flat on the door on each side of Ty’s shoulders, caging him in. “A little more private than a bathroom stall.”
Ty raised his head, making his hat hit the door and slide up away from his eyes. “ That kind of break,” he said, a hint of playful sarcasm to his words. “It’s the hat, isn’t it? Just can’t help yourself.”

He leaned back with a sharp-looking black Stetson that he settled on his head.
Ty burst out laughing, clapped a hand over his mouth, and snorted loudly as he tried to stop himself. Zane just grinned and winked, obviously not surprised by Ty’s reaction.
“Oh, Jesus,” Ty mumbled behind his fingers. “I’m sorry, I still can’t get used to it.”
“It goes with the boots.”
Ty shook his head, hand still over his mouth. Zane glared at him. The hat settled well on his head and shaded his eyes from the light. “Watch it, Grady.”
“Or what, Sheriff? Showdown at high noon?” He lost his hold on his composure and laughed harder.

“Kind of far from the border for the usual stuff, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t make it this far. Could be drugs, could be sex trade, could be horses.”
“If the next option is sex with horses, I need you to stop right there.”
“We’re not in that part of Texas.”

“Okay, son, now take your shot,” he invited as he opened his arms.
“Earl,” Mara warned.
“I got mine, Mara; now he gets his. Take your shot, Beaumont.”
Before Mara could protest again, Ty reared back and hit his father with a wicked right hook that knocked Earl off his feet. Earl struck the floor hard enough to make the plate of cookies on the table rattle, and Ty immediately doubled over, holding his hand and cussing.
“Nice hook, Tyler!” Chester cried triumphantly. “Woo!”
“Jesus Christ, boy!” Earl shouted as he clutched at his nose and wallowed on the floor.
“What is your face made of, Dad, steel?” Ty cried as he held his hand. “Oh my God!”