Cowboy Baby Daddy

“I love you too, Aspyn.”

Fun. That’s what this reunion would be. I needed to keep that in mind. Maybe Alex would be everything I remembered. Maybe I’d find out he was studying rocket science. Didn’t matter.

I’d have a great time at that reunion tomorrow if it killed me.

Chapter 2

Alex

A mess of people blocked my way as I entered the baggage claim area. I walked past a few and closed in on the conveyor belt. I only had one damn bag. I didn’t want to wait all night to get it. Half these people looked like they were packing enough luggage and supplies to support them on the Oregon Trail.

Hadn’t anyone heard of traveling light?

My gaze traveled up and down the belt in search of my small, rolling black suitcase. I didn’t have much, but I didn’t need much. I was only going to be staying in Tennessee for one night.

My attention was rewarded as the belt finally carried my bag near me.

I grabbed my suitcase.

A man glared at me. “I think that’s my bag, man.”

I pointed to a sign above the conveyor belt: CHECK YOUR TAGS. MANY BAGS LOOK ALIKE.

The man grunted, and I squared my shoulders. I didn’t have time for this crap. I pointed to the tag with my name on it.

“Unless you have my name too?” I said.

He snorted and walked farther down the belt.

Yeah, that was good old Nashville International Airport for me. It’d been a long time since I’d flown into the airport. Dad had left Tennessee not all that long after I’d started college in Texas, and when he passed, we had the funeral in Phoenix.

An airp

ort cop passed by me, suspicion in his eyes. It seemed like everyone wanted to screw with me.

I wasn’t surprised. The thing is cops of all sorts didn’t like my look. The blond hair and gray eyes were no big deal. The real problem was I had too many tattoos on my arms and chest and pierced ears. They thought I was trouble. Some sort of punk.

It always made me want to snort. Yeah, I was a college dropout, but I’d never been in any serious trouble. I even did my four years in the Army, including two in Afghanistan.

I rolled my suitcase away from the conveyor belt, searching the area. I didn’t have to look long until I spotted a familiar brown-haired man, my old buddy Carl, the closest I’d ever had to a brother.

We didn’t talk enough unless we counted an email every few months. He headed over to me and gave me a quick bro hug and a slap on the back. Lots of people didn’t do right by their family, blood or otherwise, I supposed.

“Damn, Alex,” Carl said. “It’s so good to see you, bro.”

“Yeah, good to see you,” I mumbled.

Something didn’t sit right in my stomach. I’d avoided coming back to Livingston for 10 years. It wasn’t home anymore, that was for sure. I had no relatives there anymore.

My mom had run off to Nashville when I was still in elementary school. I’d not ever talked to her after that, so it wasn’t like I had a lot even holding me in Tennessee.

It wasn’t that I had bad memories of high school. Shit, if anything, I had good memories, particularly of a certain black-haired girl with great tits. Aspyn Matthews.

I don’t know why we never hooked up in high school. I always wanted her, but I also was afraid of screwing up the friendship we had for a quick night in the sack. I didn’t hate my dad, but we were never close. Aspyn was one of the few rays of light I’d had in my life.

Then I threw that away by moving out of state for college. And I didn’t even get a degree. What a damn waste.

“Something wrong?” Carl said.