Makin’ Bacon

“Wade, you don’t mind if your bacon’s more done than usual, right?”

Wade peered up from his coffee. “Uh, sure?” He raised a brow. “Ya alright in there, darlin’?”

“Yeah!” The scraping of a pan. “Just fine!”

A pause, and then Wade was pushing back his chair and standing. He grunted as his knees cracked. “Ye’re overdoin’ the bacon again, aren’ ya?”

“A little bit,” Cole answered smoothly. “Enough to know it’s safe to eat.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle, even if Cole was having a moment. “Bacon’s always safe ta eat, darlin’.”

Cole scoffed. “You’re literally a dog, you’ll eat anything!”

“An’ it’s always worth it!” Wade peeked into the kitchen. Cole was turning over bacon in the pan, the strips already a healthy color. Green eyes widened. “Ooh, I see two things lookin’ yummy.”

Cole’s head snapped back, face a scowling pout. “Shut up,” he muttered. “You want your breakfast to be safe or not?”

“I will eat it anyway ya give it ta me.” He could tell Cole was having a moment, the bacon was already curling up from being overdone, and there was that pinched look on the gruff face that Wade knew was a sign of a soon-to-be anxiety attack. “Permission ta en’er the kitchen?” he asked.

“No,” Cole responded flatly.

“What if I overrode that ‘no’?”

“I would override your life.”

“An’ who’s gonna eat that yummy bacon when ye’re no’ feelin’ well?”

“Ugh, you’re such a jerk.” Cole didn’t look up from the counter. “Fine, permission granted.”

Wade practically skipped into the kitchen, grinning. “I’m in yer kitchen!” he sang. “An’ you can’ kick my b-u-t-t!”

Cole raised an amused brow even as he recoiled, offended. “Um, I can absolutely kick your butt out of here right now,” he shot back, but he was smiling.

“Ya don’ mean it if ye’re smilin’.” Wade planted an elbow on the counter, eyeing the bacon. “So, ya think they’re done?”

“No,” Cole said promptly. “They’re not done enough yet. They could give you salmonella or put you in the hospital.”

Ah, so it was a food issue. Wade thought for a moment. “...Wouldn’ I be in the hospital fer both?”

A huff. “Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to keep you out of the hospital.”

Usually they’d tease each other, but this wasn’t the time. Cole was genuinely unsettled and Wade knew their usual banter would be too much right now. “What about ‘em is makin’ ya worried, darlin’?” he asked instead.

Something seemed to calm just a bit on Cole’s face, his angry scowl softer. “They’re too light,” he answered. “I don’t know if they’re even safe to eat.”

“I’m sure they’d be good ta eat, jus’ got’em last week.”

“That’s still a long time.”

“Ya think the store would survive ya comin’ in if they dared ta sell ya rotten meat?”

“That’s…” Cole’s face scrunched. Caramel eyes looked over, calculating. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

Wade shrugged, smiling lightly. “If it makes ya feel any better, I saw Grace in thar’ when I was gettin’ groceries. She was in tha meat aisle wit’ me gettin’ bacon an’ steak.”

“So, she got meat with you?” Cole asked slowly, raising a brow.

“Yeah, she was. Kept sayin’ how they were waitin’ fer some pigs ta get big ‘nough fer eatin’.” Wade could remember the pride in her voice as she practically bragged about her farm’s livestock, and he was certainly happy to share some farm talk between another farmer.

Cole looked deep in thought, eyebrows tenting. “She is pretty picky about meat,” he murmured.

“She sure is. An’ ya know I got a great nose, I could smell bad meat through any wrappin’,” Wade reminded cheerfully. He wasn’t one to brag, but he did have an amazing sense of smell.

“And you would’ve told me if the meat had gone bad.”

“Yessir!”

They looked at each other for a moment, Cole’s face flipping through thoughts and Wade keeping a warm smile on his face. Then the gruff man turned back to the stove. “...They’re really burnt now,” Cole said quietly.

“I think they’re pretty welldone,” Wade bounced back, smiling reassuringly. Sure, they were burnt, but that wasn’t a problem. “They still smell delicious.”

A soft scoff. Cole had a sad, self-pitying smile on his face. “You think burnt coal is delicious?”

“If it comes outta yer kitchen, yes.”

“You know you don’t have to act like I didn’t do something silly over my food issue, right?”

“I’m not actin’, darlin’, I’m jus’ bein’ honest.” And he was. Wade didn’t mind if the food was burnt to a crisp, especially if Cole had a reason for doing so.

“You know what’s stupid?”

“What’s that, darlin’?”

Cole reached and turned off the burner. “I’ve lost my appetite for meat,” he finished. He sounded tired.

That wasn’t a surprise to either of them. Wade raised a brow. “So… Can I have what ya made?”

Cole chuckled brokenly. “Wade, you don’t have to eat them.”

“I wanna!” Wade responded. He shot a grin. “I’mma dog that eats anythin’, ‘member?”

“Wade, seriously, they’re burnt to shit.”

“An’ I don’ mind my bacon burnt ta shit.”

“We have better things in the fridge.”

“Well, why doncha grab whatever’s good in there an’ eat wit’ me?”

Cole swallowed. “Can you get it for me, dear?” he asked. “Just… I need a minute.”

Wade outstretched a hand. “Ya need help outta the kitchen?”

A clammy hand latched onto his. “I knew there was a reason I let you in here.”