Max smiled, but Wyatt well knew now which were real and which he forced. Exhaling, he reached out, taking Max's shoulder in turn and squeezing.

"It'll be over soon," he promised, hoping it would be true. His hand dropped to the back of Max's chair, rested there easily. "If I'd had pockets, I'd have smuggled in some cards for ya."

If he'd thought he'd even be close to talk to him, much sit beside him, he'd have brought them anyway. Pockets or no.