Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,39
I know we eat more than any two people alive, but you want a grilled cheese?” His belly was gnawing his backbone from stress.
“We have tomato soup.” She put the cookies away. “Besides, you burned, like, a thousand calories making out.”
“At least. Maybe two. I’m incredibly active.”
“Ew.” She winked, though, laughing with him. Maybe it was survivor nerves, but that was okay. They had always been hilarious together.
“You’re jealous. Deputy Dawg likes you, you know? Are you going to get nasty with the law?”
“I am. Not in a way that will keep them from helping, but the sheriff is an elected official. I can make things uncomfortable. Morrow isn’t the only mover and shaker around here.”
Lord have mercy, look at her rage.
She hadn’t even heard what he’d meant at all. “Uh-huh. I meant are you going to move and shake with Deputy Dawg? Bump uglies. Do the deed.”
“What? Bubba, ew! I mean, Dave is a nice guy, but he’s so… penal.” She wrinkled her nose, but her green eyes, which were so like his, went sharp, speculative. She’d never seen Dave that way, he’d bet.
“Uh-huh. Right. He’s into you. Probably in a penile way.”
“Thanks.” Opening cans of tomato soup, she laughed. “I should have gone out for a beer with him. He might be crazy too, but at least he has to obey the law.”
“You ought to ask. Dear Deputy Dawg, can you take me out and…” He fluttered his eyelashes madly. “Read me my rights?”
“Stop! You’re more the handcuffs-and-cop-hat type anyway.”
He snort-laughed on that one, thinking of a video he’d sent her a while ago with some woman wearing a police hat and holding a shepherd’s crook.
He leaned across the back of one of the kitchen chairs, panting like the cartoon wolf with the bugging eyes, and she swatted him with a kitchen towel.
“Butthead.”
“I know it.” What could he say? He got the cast iron on, then began slapping grilled cheese stuff together.
“Momma?” Darcy whispered it from the kitchen door. “Are you making soup?”
“I am. Are you hungry for soup?” She rolled her eyes at Anderson, but smiled at her daughter.
“Can I have some?” Darcy slipped close and grabbed Anderson’s belt loop.
“Hey, sweet girl. Ellie and Manda okay?” He scooped her up into a hug.
“They’re both sleeping. I put one of the baby monitors in there, okay?”
“Good girl.” Bailey chuckled when he gave her a bewildered look. “I have, like, three sets. Mason still has one, but the other goes with Amanda a lot. The bases are all in here since I tend to hear them from the bedroom anyway.”
“Oh, sneaky. I like it.” And if Jericho ever came over, he would so use the trick to get a little alone time and still keep an eye on the kids…
God, he was a bad man.
A bad, bad man.
“It works. Sometimes being a mom is tough.” Bailey rolled her eyes, and he damn near choked on his own spit.
“Sometimes? You have four little ones.” And she ran a ranch by herself, and schlepped animals to rodeos and auctions and deliveries and and and… She was a superhero.
“I do. Thank God for grandparents. I couldn’t do it without them.”
“One year y’all should come out to California for the summer again. See the beach. Hang out.” He had loved it when they’d all come. Bailey had been pregnant, Jack hadn’t been sick yet, and they had all had a ball.
“We so should. God, that was a good time.” She smiled, and it didn’t even seem sad. She deserved to feel good about her life, to remember Jack fondly instead of with only pain.
“I remember that. Amanda was little bitty, and Dougie puked on the merry-go-round.” Darcy never mentioned her daddy, and Logic thought that was more about her momma than her own missing Jack.
She was a very perceptive little girl.
Hell, his whole damn family was pretty cool. “Should I make more grilled cheese just in case the others wake up?” He could cut them into wee fingers.
“Sounds good to me, Bubba. The kids will eat them tomorrow if we don’t tonight.”
He smiled at Darcy. “You want to butter bread for me, honey?”
“Yessir.” She climbed up on a barstool he thought must be there for cooking kids, and then got the knife and the tub butter.
“Thank you ever so.” He put a slice of cheddar and a slice of smoked gouda on each. That was something they all had in common—a hunger for smoky cheese.
“I like it really brown, Uncle Logic.”
“Do you? Okay.