Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,12
God he had to let me act like shit was normal. They had to go to school and church and all, so I had someone else take them, one at a time.”
“And then you had to make your weekly call to your brother, right? I swear to God, I’m glad I answered. It was so out there.”
She chuckled, raising a brow at Anderson, who shook his head. “We ate all the Girl Scout cookies, but I can make you a sandwich.”
“Oh, thanks. No, I’m good.” He had a King Ranch casserole in the truck from his mother-in-law, Tammy. She was good enough to still let him call her that, since his own folks had long since left town and ignored their grandkids.
“So, you’ve got babies too. Y’all are repopulating the planet.”
“Yeah, I have two.” He had to grin, because his kids were his light in the dark. The two good things he’d ever accomplished in his life. He loved them more than anything on earth.
“Congratulations.” There wasn’t an ounce of irony in the words. Anderson meant it sincerely, he could tell.
“Thanks.” Jericho raised an eyebrow, a habit he recalled Anderson hating. “What are you up to these days?”
“Working. I work a lot.” The answer came so fast it had to be a pat one Anderson gave all the time.
“You have a million followers on Instagram, Bubba. That’s not just working.”
“No?” Anderson’s bright green eyes went comically wide. “It sure seems like it. New content is hard. I need to take a million pics while I’m here.”
He wasn’t completely sure what Instagram did, but a million followers sounded pretty damned impressive. His kids could probably tell him later so he didn’t seem stupid.
“What kind of work gets you a million whatevers?” He was trying, but man, small talk wasn’t his thing any more now than it had been in high school. He always felt a beat behind, which was why he usually kept his mouth shut.
“I do a lot of things. I write books. I make robots. I have a TV show.”
“Logic. My famous brother.” Bailey’s smile was fond, real proud.
“Wait. Wait, you’re that guy who fights robots on that show. Something wars. My son loves you.” Shit. Logic the Robot Guy. He’d never even noticed he and Anderson were the same person. How could he? Anderson Whitehead and Logic couldn’t be more different, at least in his memory.
“I am.” Anderson chuckled softly and shook his head. “For what all it’s worth, that’s me.”
“Hey, go you. My son, Travis, says you wrote books he can’t read yet. He’s twelve.”
Anderson pinked, and for a second, Jericho could see the awkward kid the guys used to whale on, just for a second. “I’m probably not for a tween, no.”
“Have you seen The Bullet Chronicles?” Bailey asked. “It’s on HBO.”
Jericho chuckled. “I’ve heard about it. The kids’ oldest cousin, Sam? He watches it. I don’t get to see much beyond Puppy Dog Pals and Marvel movies.”
“You should try and catch it. It so rocks.”
“She has to say that. She’s my sister.” Anderson rolled his eyes, the self-deprecating look seeming real as hell.
“You’re good at what you do,” Bailey said staunchly, waving a hand in the air. “I mean, I prefer my romances, but I love your books.”
“My son sure thinks you’re good. He has a poster of your robot in his room.”
“Gunslinger? That’s cool. He’s a good one. We were together for years.” Anderson talked about the robot like it was a person, like it was real. Was that weird? Nah, Jericho knew from Travis that nerds acted that way. Yep, his kid was a nerd, and he encouraged it. So there.
He’d never seen a nerd quite as stacked to the ceiling as Anderson “Logic” Whitehead.
Stop staring. He said it to himself firmly before following the order. “Well, he sure likes robots. Makes my head spin a little with all he knows.”
“Good deal. Seriously. Robotics is a fascinating field. That’s what I got my master’s in.”
“Master’s.” He’d gotten his GED. He wondered if Anderson even knew he hadn’t graduated with the class. Not when he was working two jobs to pay for a baby. Damn, he was starting to have a pity party. Not good. Shut up and be grateful for what you have, asshole.
“Yes, sir.” Anderson met his eyes, the look confident, proud, and hard as hell to swallow.
All he could do was nod and smile. “That’s a good deal. Well, Bailey, if you need me, you call or text or send up