Page 20 of The Cowboy's Bullfighter
“Is that where you were?” Mason’s eyes went wide.
“Do they really have spiders that can carry birds?”
Brooks glanced at Coop, who rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Uh, how about I talk to anyone who wants to hear about that tomorrow? That might not be great for a supper discussion.”
Oh, good man. Coop was actually pretty impressed. Mina looked so relieved she might cry, and Lucy let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Let me go check on the dough. Brooks, how are you at making pizza rounds?”
“Good. I’ll come with you.”
“We’ll call you in when it’s time to top, y’all,” Coop murmured, then led Brooks back out of the room. “I would have let you sit with them, but I wanted to fill you in on what topics you might avoid.”
“Sure. I appreciate it. Mina looked scared when spiders came up.” Brooks took the little pizza pans Coop handed him and spread them out on the counter, sprinkling cornmeal on them from the canister Coop gave him. Okay, good. Looked like he got pizza.
Coop turned the oven on. “Mina is terrified of spiders and clowns. Johnny wants to know all about anything you know about history, tech, or weird languages, but rodeo bores him to tears. Mason likes gross shit. Lucy does not. No gore. Ricky likes cars and girls and he’s a reader—even though he’ll deny it. And Benji is just…you know, almost an adult. He’s a little self-important.”
That made Brooks snort. “I remember those days.” He started shaping balls of dough into rounds. “How thick?”
“Just cover the pan with a ball.”
“Got it.” Brooks worked silently for a bit. “Hey, I didn’t mean to insult your house. It’s just this great, huge place. That’s all I meant. Sometimes I’m too damn blunt.”
“I guess that’s what happens on some Australian cattle stations. I hear it took you a helicopter to get to the nearest town in any time that was reasonable.”
Brooks scoffed. “Yeah. It was a haul. I spent a lot of time with my TV.”
And his hand, Coop would bet. Not that it was any of his business if it was true. What Brooks did about his dick was his business.
“Training horses?”
“Yeah. Yeah, the guy I worked for wanted to run a cutting and reining horse dynasty, so I built his bloodline for four years, turned out his first homegrown million-dollar champ.” Brooks filled all the pans. “What now?”
“Chop L’il Smokies. Mina and Lucy want them instead of pepperoni.”
“No shit.”
“Not even a little.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Coop said, trying not to snap. Lord, he hated his routine getting fucked.
“Hey, I don’t. In Oz, they put vegemite, onions, ham, cheese and egg on a pizza.”
Coop gagged. “Like, crack an egg on it?” He’d seen that on the Food Network.
“As in, beat a couple of eggs and pour it over the top of the whole schmear to cook it.”
“Nope.” Coop had to admit, he wouldn’t be able to cope. And he liked breakfast pizza. But he scrambled the eggsfirst and then they cooked again on the pizza. And that was on a Bisquick crust. So it tasted like a sausage cheese biscuit.
“Well, the girls like their L’il Smokies pizzas.” He pulled out bags—the cooked sausage he could have them sprinkle, the pepperoni, cubed ham, onions, mushrooms, sliced-up peppers, green chile, olives, both kinds.
He was an everything-on-the-pizza type. The best part about this meal was that the kids could just do their thing, and he didn’t have to think. The options were vast—from everything someone could put on a pizza to only cheese, please, no sauce, and every God damn thing in between. It was easy and happy-making and if he could just get Mina and Johnny to sleep and the older ones into the bedrooms, then maybe he could have a minute.
Oh hell, he didn’t know about that. He was going to have to talk to Benji.
Coop wasn’t letting anybody take these kids. Benji had done a good job. He wanted to continue the process and let Benji go be a young man. He imagined deep down in his gut that Brooks would be pleased, really. He respected the hell out of the man for getting on his pony and riding and trying to fix things.
