Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,47
he got lucky with his mother-in-law. She was a jewel, and she’d saved his ass, over and over again.
“Well, she can stay at my house, and you can come pick her up at church tomorrow.”
“I can do that. We’re all going to lunch together.” His budget was creaking and groaning from all the eating out, but he’d make it.
“I’ll pick up fried chicken, and we’ll eat up to the house. I made potato salad this morning anyway.”
Goodie. More potato salad. “Sounds great, but we have plans with Bailey.”
“Ah, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. If Travis needs me, call.”
“Thanks, lady.” He hung up, sighing. He knew she wanted him to bring Travis to church, but Travis had begged to stop going, and Jericho wasn’t going to force the issue.
“Everything okay? Our drinks should be waiting. Did you want to do the drive-through, or I can run in?”
“Oh, I want to go in. Is that okay?” He needed to hit the head, and Starbucks was always cleaner than Walmart. “She’ll take Ellie. She just tried to blackmail me into church is all.”
“Ah. That’s a mom thing, right? Bailey goes to one in Greenville. Let’s go.”
He followed Anderson into the Starbucks, which smelled like heaven. He’d never thought to order ahead on the app.
Anderson picked up the drinks while he got a table. The place was busy, a ton of high school kids pretending to work on projects and women-society types with their newly set hair. They took a table in one corner, grinning at each other like they really were on a date.
“God, I’m in desperate need of this. Sugar and caffeine were sadly lacking this morning.” Anderson shook his head. “No one should have to start a day without a latte.”
“Especially not the day we had. I worry, man. I think this is going to escalate.”
“I’m going to hire a private investigator to deal with the crazy bastard. Morrow needs to know there will be repercussions for this shit.” That was a little loud for where they were. Someone who knew Conor would hear. There were no secrets, even in Greenville.
Maybe that was what Anderson was going for, though, so he kept that thought to himself. Logic Whitehead was not the kind of man you shushed.
Those bright eyes met his, fierce and sharp as hell. Yeah, there was no doubt Anderson knew what he was doing. It was hot, exciting, but he was going to be able to leave, go back to California. Jericho and Bailey and their families were stuck.
He shook off the thought, which gave him a pointed stab of disappointment. “Well, I’m sure we can get everything set up so it’s easier to keep him in line.”
“Yeah, until the motherfucker picks another woman to terrorize and stalk. Another fence to cut. Someone else to threaten.” Anderson sighed. “It’s a shit situation.”
“It is. The only thing that will help eventually will be for Daddy Morrow to get on board and shut baby down.”
“Yeah. Fucker.” Anderson shot him a grin. “I’ll camp out in the pasture, how’s that?”
“Oh, I would pay money to see that, man.” He could see the cow patties and all.
“Me, my shotgun, and my phone. You know how many games I can play overnight?”
“Uh. Games of what?” He wanted to know; it wasn’t only small talk.
“My best buddy, Mal? He designs games, so I play hours of games, betaing. My favorite is this crazy, goofball cooking game where you have to make things in a taco truck.”
“Travis has one where he fills coffee cups and serves pastry. He loves it.” Brain games.
“Yeah. They’re intended to quiet things inside, keep things so busy that you can think. Do you play any games at all?”
“I like some of the shooter ones. And I play Mario Kart with the kids.” He was also a secret Words with Friends fiend.
“I bet you’re good at the FPS. I’m not bad.”
No, he’d heard from Bailey how good a shot Anderson had been with that shotgun.
“Uh-huh. Sharpshooter.” He winked, and Anderson ducked his head. “Do you play Words with Friends?” He might get himself humiliated, but it was another point of connection.
“Totally. Every goddamn day. What’s your username?” Anderson whipped out his phone.
“Jericho59.” He winked, because that was easy to remember.
“I’ll start a game. I’m GunslingerLogo.” Of course he was.
“Cool.” He licked cinnamon foam off his upper lip. “I like the beard, by the way.”
“Yeah? My agent wanted me to look older. It took a while to get used to—”
They both jumped when