Legend (Arizona Vengeance 3)

I hang up and call my dad. Yes, he’s a doctor and some would consider that a mild-mannered occupation. But my dad played football at the University of Arizona and he still has the build of a linebacker. He’s an orthopedic doctor and he has the strength to crack femurs back into place.

Also, he has a gun.

Just in case.Chapter 24LegendWe had planned to meet at baggage claim, but I couldn’t stand it and I’m waiting at the terminal exit instead. There’s a throng of passengers walking toward me, all in a hurry to leave the airport. At six five, it makes it easy for me to scan the crowd from above and it only takes me a moment to see Pepper’s beautiful face.

Fuck she’s an angel and a trooper all at once. She’s got a huge diaper bag slung across her chest and resting on a hip with Charlie cradled in her arms. More stunning is that after a five-hour flight with a newborn, she’s got a smile on her face and an easy sway to her hips as she walks toward me.

The minute her eyes connect with mine, her smile gets bigger. She moves with the crowd and I’m impatient for her to reach me. I’ll kiss her first and then take Charlie for some cuddles.

“Excuse me…Mr. Bay?” I hear from somewhere below me. A little boy is standing there, tugging on the bottom of my coat. It takes me a moment to comprehend that he’s one of my littlest fans, because I’m still stuck on wanting to kiss Pepper and Charlie. I blink at him and he gives me a smile with two missing teeth in the top front. “Could I get your autograph, please?”

Except it sounds like, “Could I get your autograph, pleeth?”

I notice a set of parents standing there, beaming smiles at their kid. The mom is holding a small pad of paper and a pen, likely plucked from her purse when I was spotted.

I love my fans, especially the kids, so there’s no way I would ever say no. But I also know these things can turn into a frenzy if people realize what’s going on. While I play for the Vengeance, I’m a native Bostonian and more than that, I used to play for the Boston Eagles early in my career. I’m loved here.

It’s why I wore a baseball cap pulled down low to the airport, so I hopefully wouldn’t be recognized.

“Sure, buddy,” I say and take the paper and pen. “What’s your name?”

“Cletus,” he says proudly.

But sounds like “Cletuth”

That startles me. “Cletus?”

“It’s a family name,” he replies and I know that I’m not the first person to be taken aback by his unusual name.

“I like it a lot,” I tell him and take a moment to personalize a message to him. I scrawl my name and my jersey number—twenty-seven—and hand it back to him just as Pepper reaches me.

She hangs back a few feet, not wanting to call attention to herself and not wanting to interrupt.

“Can we get a picture?” Cletus’s dad asks.

“How about a selfie?” I suggest because that will draw less notice than proud parents taking a picture of their kid with a hockey star.

“Awesome,” Cletus says and the dad hands his phone over.

I’ve recently mastered the “selfie,” having taken a million pictures of me and Charlie together when we’re alone. I was able to memorialize her first smile with me smiling right along side her and I fucking love technology.

I squat, pull the kid in tight and snap a few pictures. He thanks me profusely as do the parents, and I tousle his hair. They walk away and no one is paying attention to us because they all want to leave the airport.

I turn to Pepper—finally—and she grins at me. “You’re really hot when you’re being all famous and stuff.”

“You’re the one that’s hot, lugging a big diaper bag and a cute little baby through the airport,” I counter.

She walks into me and I put my hand at the back of her head to hold her still for a soft kiss. My head bends and I look down at Charlie who is alert and looking up at me with wide eyes.

“There’s my angel,” I say softly and expertly take her from Pepper into my arms. I lift her, put my nose to her head and sniff.

God, I love the way she smells.

My gaze goes back to Pepper. “You’re amazing. Braving a five-hour flight with an infant.”

She shrugs. “It was nothing, although it is not that easy to change a poopy diaper on a plane.”

“What did you do?” I ask, curious as to the mechanics. I’ve gotten really good at a fast diaper change but I’ve got a changing table with plenty of room.

“One of the flight attendants let me use their jump seats at the front of the plane to lay her out,” she says, and then smiles down at Charlie with pride. “She’s such a good little flier too. This little girl will be traveling all over to watch her daddy play hockey.”