Page 12 of Cowboy Baby Daddy


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The whole crew had been working overtime on this damn industrial warehouse project, but I didn’t get how me working a few hours on one day would mean crap in the long run. The way my boss acted, he was practically risking running the company into the ground by letting me leave for a day.

I’d wanted another day with Aspyn, just one damn Saturday.

When I’d originally asked for my time off, I wanted the two days so I could rest. I never thought, never dreamed even, that I’d hook up with Aspyn.

It was funny how all that emotion, all those memories, could come flooding back after so many years. I’d thought I was over her a long time before, but the second I laid my eyes on her at the reunion, I’d had trouble focusing on anything else.

Now, there I was, less than 20 hours after bedding the woman I’d lusted after for years, back in Texas walking through a half-built warehouse that still wouldn’t be finished for several months, anyway.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.

Maybe it would have been better if we hadn’t hooked up. Then I wouldn’t be eager to go back to her.

It was hard to know what I was even feeling. I’d had a crush on her in high school, but what we’d shared yesterday was all too adult. Sure, the sex was great, but I wondered if I was letting myself get carried away with satisfying my needs after a little dry spell.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through some of the texts we’d exchanged that day.

Last night was great, Alex. I smiled at her text. Damn right it was great. I’d brought my A game.

Yeah. For me, too. Getting on the plane now. I’ll text when I get back off in TX.

You arrive yet?

Easy flight. Tired but good kind of tired.

I know what you mean. I’m sore but good kind of sore.

She followed it up with some kissy face emoji.

I snickered to myself and put the phone back in my pocket. We’d sent a lot of other texts that day, but I didn’t have time to reread them. I was on the clock and had some scaffolding to help with on the other side of the building.

My phone chirped. It was as if Aspyn knew I was thinking about her.

Maybe I could send you some special pics tonight. Definitely NSFW.

My cock hardened at the thought. I almost texted her back but decided against it. I couldn’t afford to be even more distracted at work. I turned off the sound. We’d have plenty of time to text and chat later that night. Yeah, I wanted some sexy pics from her for sure.

Besides, I didn’t want my boss on my ass for slacking off at work. I’d barely been able to convince him to let me have the time off I needed to go to the reunion. My damn work schedule was so erratic it was a joke, and if I screwed this up, he’d end up making my life a living hell.

I’d thought about leaving this construction company a lot, but the truth was, the bastard paid better than most people in the area. I supposed dealing with an annoying schedule made it worth it. I was saving a lot. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I felt good about it.

“Hey, Alex,” George, one of the other guys on the crew called to me. “I need your help over here.”

I pocketed my phone and hurried over to help him, stepping into a mostly-completed side room.

The smell of rotten eggs drifted in my nose, and I gagged.

“You smell that?” I asked.

George sniffed. “Yeah. Is that gas?”

A bright flash caught my attention, and I spun toward the source. Another worker was welding together some railing nearby. The sparks shot into the air and lit up the front of his mask.

“Shit,” I said. My stomach lurched. “Stop,” I yelled at him. “We got a gas leak!”

The welder looked up, but it was too late. The next few moments felt like they all happened in slow motion. A stray spark ignited the invisible gas in the air. A fireball exploded from the welder, the force knocking George and me to the ground. The welder flew across the room.

I groaned, shaking my head, trying to focus. My ears ringing, I shoved myself up. George lay on the ground, not moving but still breathing, so I grabbed him and put his arm over my shoulder, carrying him toward the door.

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