Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,2

in aikido.

He tugged on a jacket before locking up so he could head out. Whistling seemed appropriate, so he settled on some Mozart.

After that, he started on “Brown Eyed Girl.”

It was a perfect Monterey spring day. The fog had burned off, the sea lions had done their singing, and the bay was blue and bright. Maybe instead of working anymore, he could head to the aquarium after lunch.

Playing hooky. Oh, he loved that idea. He boogied a little, waving at Mr. Collins, who was out walking Alfie the goldendoodle.

“Mr. Logic. Fine day to you, sir!” The dapper old man tipped his hat, and Logic did the same.

“Pancakes, Mr. Collins.” He grinned and bounced.

“Ah, breakfast for lunch. I very much approve.” That wizened face pulled into a gleeful grin.

“Thank you! Would you like me to bring you back anything?” Sometimes Alfie got bacon when neighbors went to LouLou’s.

“No, thank you, son. My daughter is coming to pick us up to take us to Carmel.”

“Have fun.” He waved and meandered on, feeling like the whole world was going his way. That was probably ominous, huh?

By the time he was filled with maple syrup, he’d decided today deserved a gold star, and he headed to the water. He walked almost everywhere these days, and he needed his time outside, wandering, away from the lab.

Logic loved his life. He got to create, he had the bay, and he got to travel. If he was a little lonely, well, so be it. Life was lonely.

He grinned at himself. And it was mostly by design, wasn’t it? He tended toward safe and steady, but he wasn’t into that somehow…

Nope. No thinking about the shit show his private life could turn into if he dated. That had happened one too many times. He never swiped any direction anymore. He and tech dating were a flop. Shit, he and any dating were bad.

Logic chuckled softly and shook his head. He was a dork. If he needed to get off, he had opportunities. If he wanted a relationship, he had his books, his robots.

His fans. They could be totally rabid and freaky, but they could also be sweet and supportive.

There. Gratitude for his life, not psycho sadness about what he couldn’t have.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Logic frowned. It wasn’t time for his weekly family calls, and he had strict rules that his agent and others only called his business cell.

He grabbed it, Sister’s name popping up, so he swiped right. “What’s wrong?”

“Bubba, I need help.” She wasn’t crying, but he could hear the stress in her voice, a fine tremor that hadn’t been there in a bit. Not since her husband died.

“Okay. Anything.” He started at a run toward the house. Whatever it was, he needed to be home to deal with it.

“I wasn’t even stupid.” Now she hiccupped a little. “I was just starting to date this guy. He won’t leave me alone. Hell, he won’t leave.”

“What do you mean, he won’t leave?” Bailey wasn’t exactly a delicate flower. If she wanted someone out, she fought for her rights.

“I mean he came over one night to watch a movie, and now he’s threatening the kids if I call the cops.” Now he knew why her tone was barely loud enough to hear.

“Pardon me? Oh. I don’t think so.” Logic cradled the iPhone by his ear, then grabbed his business phone out of his pocket, finding a flight leaving at two and booking it before he got to his door. “I’ll be there by nine your time. You sit tight.”

“Okay. Okay, Bubba. I’m scared. He’s passed out right now. Darcy and Dougie I had picked up at school, and I’m trying to get Barb to come get the babies, but what if he burned down the barn? I can’t leave him here.” His brave sister, protecting her kids and barrel horses at her own danger.

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. I’m assuming you can’t get to any firearms? What about the cops?”

“No. I took them to the old root cellar, with the firing pins out. He could use them on me, and they’re Grandpa’s anyway. Hard to get ammo.” Her voice got soft. “He’s a local biggie-wow. I cain’t—I don’t want to be all embarrassed. I got a ranch to run.”

“Goddamn it. You just hold tight, girl. I’m going to be there.” He would holler at his friend, Al, have a truck and a gun waiting for him at the airport.

“Okay. Thank you.” The sniffles