Page 2 of Drunk Dialing

This was deep as marrow.

He took another deep breath, then let it out before dialing Trapper. Would Jake be talking to him now, or would he be too wigged out to even touch his phone for a while?

Hell, maybe he was passed out, although it was early for a Sunday to be drunk-dialing folks.

“Hello?”

“Trap. You answered my call,” he teased.

“Shit, man, I need some not-pregnant-wife time, though don’t tell her that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, buddy.” Shit, Marisa would have his balls.

“No. No one will. What’s up? How’s the ranch? You missing being on the road yet?”

“Nah. I’m actually pretty good.” He was learning all about the settling down thing, even if it was necessity and not desire. “How are you hanging in there?”

“Eh, she’s about thirty months pregnant and hates me unless I’m bringing apple pie with me.”

“Well, then, always have pie.”

“You know it. No offense, man, but what’s up? You never call out of the blue. I mean not since you stopped touring and wanting a beer when you came through town.”

“Are you saying I suck as a friend?” Not that Trap ever just up and called him either. They texted weekly.

“Absol-fucking-lutely.” Trap’s response was lightning fast and had him rolling.

“Asshole.” He snorted. “I’ll Zoom instead of texting from now on.”

“Ooh…you can talk to Marisa! I’d love that.” Trap was cackling.

“Hey, at least I can’t be extorted for pie over Zoom.” He chuckled, then took a breath to get into the meat of things. “So, I reckon you’ll get a call from Jake soon.”

“Jake? Jake Greenbriar?” Trap sounded just about confused.

“Yeah. He just called me by accident. Thought I was you. Drunk dialed, actually. Said some shit…” Shit that liked to burn him to the ground.

“Oh, dude… I—” Trap sighed softly. “I’m sorry, man. I’ll tell him to delete your contact. It was just a matter of time.”

“Nope. Don’t you dare.”

“No?” Trap sounded baffled now. “Why not?”

“Where is he, Trap?”

“Jake? He’s in San Antonio at the stock show.”

“He’s riding?”

“Yeah. I mean, I saw the scores. He bucked off tonight. It was a seven point something…”

“Well, that sucks.” Shit. San Antonio. “Is he there all week?”

“Depends if he makes his second ride and gets to the short go.” He could almost hear Trap shrug. “He’s riding well enough to have a signing, but he’s gonna be sleeping on the cheap, I bet. He’s tighter than a nun’s?—”

“I get it.”

“Yeah.” Trap chuckled, the sound wry. “You going to go?”

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