by Eden Winters
Round cheeks, snub nose, fine dark hair peeking out from beneath his knit hat. Lucky glanced up at dark hair and freckles, a slightly crooked nose, and the most loving smile he’d ever scene.
The heart he thought already full made more room. Yes, he was beautiful. They both were.
Lucky’s guys.
God, was he ever blessed.
***
Lucky pulled into the driveway after work. Two days. Two more days until they brought little Andro home.
Home. The concept had definitely changed in the last few years, from Lucky living alone, to living with a cat, to adding Bo and Moose into the mix.
Then Charlotte and Ty.
Now his and Bo’s son.
But wait! Something wasn’t right. His sister’s car sat in the usual spot, Bo’s new truck right behind. No sounds came from the house. Ty must not be home. He approached the door slowly, senses on high alert. He’d learned to trust his instincts over the years, and something wasn’t right.
He pulled out his phone and checked the living room camera. Ty lay sprawled on the couch with an arm flung over his face. Okay, napping explained the TV/stereo/gaming systems being quiet. No Bo, no Charlotte. Of course, at this time of day they might be in the kitchen fixing supper.
No sign of Moose, though Cat Lucky snoozed on Ty’s chest.
Okay, chalk up his paranoia to his job. He opened the door. “I’m home.”
“Oh, Lucky. Just in time!” Charlotte swept out of the kitchen. “We’re about to set the table.”
“Need help?”
“Nah. We got it. You wash up.” She stopped by the couch to nudge her offspring. “Ty, get up. It’s about time to eat.”
Lucky headed to the kitchen.
Charlotte shot to the kitchen door, barring the entrance. “Clean up in your bathroom, please.”
Lucky spun and traipsed down the hall. How strange. Maybe she wanted dinner to be a surprise.
The surprise waited in his room. Bo stood in the bathroom door, a towel around his waist and hair wet from the shower. He stopped mid-motion of drying his hair on another towel. “She made you clean up too?”
“What’s up with that?”
Bo shrugged. “Hey, she’s your sister.”
Yeah, she was. Every redneck ounce of her.
Hmmm… She sent him and Bo in here. Why not take advantage? Lucky grasped the edge of the towel, ready to unwrap a present.
Bo stopped Lucky with a hand to the wrist. “Get distracted and piss your sister off? Oh, hell no. She’s already pulled a gun on me once, remember?”
“She was defending me when you came snooping around after I died.” Courtesy of Walter Smith, no less.
“Still, a man never forgets a woman aiming a gun at him.”
True that. Only in Bo’s case, the woman in question didn’t actually shoot. Lucky one-upped him in the woman with a gun situation, who’d winged Lucky while high on a synthetic drug called Corruption.
The case from hell.
“C’mon. Clean up and get ready for dinner.” Bo nudged Lucky toward their spacious bathroom, still steamy from Bo’s shower.
“Wait for me?” Lucky asked.
“Okay.”
Lucky grinned. “Wanna watch?”
Bo crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not risking Charlotte’s temper. The woman’s got a gun, remember?”
“Scared?”
“Sensible.”
Smart man. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Lucky took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, and tennis shoes, flashing Bo a few peeks of ass in the process.
Bo swatted one cheek. “I know what you’re doing. Stop tempting me.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Lead on.” Bo indicated the door with a flourish of his hand.
Lucky opened the door. Was that whispering he heard? Then, all quiet. Too quiet. The house wasn’t this quiet in the dead of night with everyone asleep but Lucky.
Keeping himself in front of Bo, he eased down the hall into an empty living room. Lovely food smells from the kitchen teased his nose. Warm tomato sauce probably meant pizza or spaghetti. But wait? Was that a hint of… steak?
“Stop salivating and move,” Bo ordered, pushing his hands against Lucky’s back. “I’m hungry too.”
Senses on high alert, Lucky trod a few more paces and stopped in the living room.
“Surprise!”
Lucky clutched at his heart. A flurry of bodies came from everywhere: Lisa and Rett from behind the couch, Charlotte and Ty from opposite sides of the sliding glass doors, hidden by drapes. He’d totally missed Mrs. Smith sitting on the couch, her head barely peeking up over the backrest. The kitchen door opened and Walter stepped out.
More people flooded into the room behind Walter, some Lucky knew well, like his former landlady, Mrs. Griggs—cat free at the moment—and others he’d seen around the department. Salters the trainee made his presence more palatable by the huge cake he carried in and deposited on the coffee table.
Blue and white icing formed the words “Congratulations!” and “It’s a boy!”
Lucky could do without Salters eyeing Charlotte.
Ty darted out of the room and returned with a laundry basket filled with wrapped packages.
What the ever-loving hell?
“Since we didn’t think you’d want this at the office, we brought the baby shower to you,” Lisa explained, rushing up and hugging Bo. She eyed Lucky up and down, muttered, “What the hell,” and hugged Lucky too.
Maybe his shock had him hugging her back, maybe Bo’s influence rubbed off on him, but once the assorted attendees thought him fair game, they tried to follow suit. A growl sent them scurrying, bypassing Lucky on the way to Bo.
Baby shower?
Charlotte snatched his arm and hauled him toward the couch. She’d never been one to let a little thing like a growling brother stop her.
Lisa escorted Bo, a bit less forcefully. Bo beamed, now wearing a white and blue sash, “Daddy” written in sparkling letters across the front. “Y’all didn’t have to do this!”
“Nonsense. You guys are adding a kid, right?” Lisa settled Bo on the couch. “Food first, or presents?”
Were they for real? “Presents,” Lucky groused. If he had to endure a houseful of people, he needed perks.
And lots of coffee.
Bo ripped into a brightly wrapped package and pulled out yellow, blue, and green pieces of fuzzy-looking cloth.
“Baby washcloths and towels,” Lisa said from her perch on the couch arm near Bo’s elbow.
“You open one.” Lucky started to argue, but the woman beaming at him and handing over a small package happened to be the boss’s wife, and someone who’d always stood by Lucky and Bo. Not to mention being one heck of a dog sitter. Wow. What a heavy package for something so small. The card said, “From Grandma and Grandpa Smith.”
Lucky opened the box to reveal a silver piggy bank, Alejandro Gualterio Schollenberger inscribed on the side. “It’s full of silver dollars,” Mrs. Smith said. “From me and Walt. To start his college fund, maybe?”
College fund? The kid wasn’t even a year old yet.
Bo took the bank from Lucky’s hand with a wide smile. “Thanks. It’s never too early to start planning for college.”
The writing on the bank was one-sided, leaving room to add more inscription. Oh. Harrison or Lucklighter would still fit. When Mrs. Smith squeezed his fingers, careful of his healing injury, Lucky squeezed back.
Package after package revealed diapers, baby clothes, toys, and other things a baby would need.
A baby. Bo and Lucky had a baby. Such a helpless little thing, who’d depend on Bo and Lucky for everything. Was Bo ready? Was Lucky?
Bo, certainly. Lucky? He pictured the small bundle of blankets in Bo’s arms, The Dimple showing on Bo’s face, the wonder in his eyes as he’d given Andro his bottle.
Lucky was a father. It happened suddenly, more quickly than he’d planned, but gradually
he and Bo built their own family—together.
“Open mine next!” Bo’s aunt handed over a package wrapped in blue paper. What? No Harley Davidsons? Speaking of, how had she even gotten here? Where was her purple Road King?
Bo ripped open the package to find a black T-shirt with “Mike’s Harley Shop Little Rock, Arkansas” on the back, and “The Boss” on the front.
At Charlotte’s bidding, Ty and his girlfriend carried the unwrapped presents to the nursery and hurried back for more.
How had an asshole like Keith become the father of such a sweet young lady? A sweet young lady who took absolutely no crap off of Ty or anyone else.
Lucky liked her, though he’d never let her jerk of a father know.
At last the gift giving wound down, and Charlotte cleared the coffee table, ushering everyone into the kitchen for finger foods.
Hadn’t Lucky smelled steak? Ah, mini pizzas. They’d do.
Walter rose from the chair he’d claimed for his own long ago. “Lucky, can I speak with you a moment.” He tilted his head toward the back door.
“I’ll be there in a sec,” Lucky answered when Charlotte raised a brow at him. Bo didn’t flinch. Must not be anything too bad. He’d know, right?
Lucky stepped out onto the back deck and eased down into his favorite Adirondack chair. Walter groaned and sank into the other of the two original chairs. In the past few months two more had appeared for Charlotte and Ty.
Now they’d need to add another, smaller chair. Or rather, two. They might need a bigger deck.
Moose noticed one of his favorite humans and came bounding toward them. Lucky threw his hand up, palm out. Moose stopped. Ty’s working with the beast really paid off.
Lucky moved his hand and Moose crossed the deck at a less dangerous pace for so big a dog, whined once, and laid his massive head on Walter’s lap.
Walter idly scratched the dog’s ears.
Surely the boss hadn’t called him out here to hang out with Moose. “What’s up, boss man? You feeling okay?” Thank God Walter had bounced back since nearly dying not even a year ago.
“Yes, I’m fine. You appeared uncomfortable. I thought I’d give you a few moments of relative peace.”
Lucky always could count on the boss, even when he hadn’t known he could. “Thanks.”
“How’s your hand?”
Lucky flexed the remaining fingers on his left hand. “I’m still getting used to being down a couple of digits.” Sometimes, his hand still throbbed, even with pain killers, or he dropped something because he miscalculated, and tried not to use his left hand at all. Walter didn’t need to know all the details. He’d been around. He probably already knew.
“How are you doing? Nervous about bringing a baby home?”
How was Lucky feeling? Anxious, scared he’d mess this up, hopeful.
Happy.
“I’m good,” he allowed. “Never thought I’d be doing this, you know?”
“Yes. Although I’ve never brought home a child myself, I can imagine it would be rather earth-shattering, especially for a man who, until a few years ago, swore he didn’t need anyone else.” Walter fixed Lucky with a raised-eyebrow gaze.
“You don’t have to sound so smug. Just come right out and say, ‘I told you so’, why don’t cha?”
A corner of Walter’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I couldn’t be prouder. Look at you. You’ve taken a less than stellar start and now you have a home, a family, respect at your job. What’s next for you?”
What next indeed? “I’m not sure. Keep training the newbies, I guess, continue consulting.” As much as he complained about the rookies, most of them weren’t total losses. Who knew? Maybe he’d find another Loretta Johnson or Bo Schollenberger one day. The bureau could always use more of both.
“What of Alejandro’s mother? How is she? It’s been a few weeks since I interviewed her.” Walter’s hand stilled. Moose whined until Walter resumed petting.
“She’s doing all right, I’m told. Taking classes and still staying with decent folks who’ll help her get her life back on track.” Yolanda, the woman he’d forever owe for giving him and Bo their son. One day, they’d bring all who’d wronged her to justice.
Lucky lived for the day, even though he no longer played an active role in the case.
“Good. I’ve only spoken with her through an interpreter, and only about the case. I’m glad she’s doing well. No one should have to go through what she did.” Walter turned more fully toward Lucky. “I’m honored you’ve given her… your son my name. If he ever needs anything, or you and Bo ever need me, I’m here.” Walter patted Lucky’s shoulder with a beefy paw. More quietly, he added, “If anyone questions his parentage, you let me know immediately.”
“I appreciate that. I don’t see why anyone would question, do you?” Lucky’s heart pounded. Had someone said something? Although adoption would have been a reasonable option, they preferred for folks to believe Andro was truly Bo’s biological son.
That he’d always been wanted, and his birth eagerly looked forward to. One day they might have to sit down with their son and tell him the whole story, but they reserved the right to decide when.
“No. Why should they? Bo’s name is on the birth certificate. I can’t see anyone challenging him.” Walter gave his best barracuda smile and added, “And succeeding. There’s not a legal loophole to be found. I have powerful friends. And so do you.”
A threat to anyone who tried? Well, even drug lords were afraid of Walter, as Nestor once pointed out.
Something else troubled Lucky. “The baby isn’t going to make a difference for Bo’s job, is it?”
“Why should it?” Walter rose, to Moose’s dismay. He butted the man’s hand for more petting. “You and Bo will make great parents. All that’s needed to say is congratulations.” With that he disappeared into the house, leaving Lucky to his thoughts.
The boss had their backs. Nestor and Victor sent baby furniture.
Little Alejandro had a lot of powerful people in his corner.
Lucky hoped he’d never need them.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Are you ready?” Bo had taken extra care this morning, in khaki slacks with a pale blue button-down shirt. He’d left off cologne, but he’d shaved and brushed his hair back into waves.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Lucky wore jeans and a Bob Seger T-shirt. Might as well let the little guy know up front who Lucky was.
“We’ll be waiting,” Charlotte said, arm wrapped around her tall son. More than likely she’d pack the house slam full of people while they were gone.
Bo drove the Bronco, not saying much on the way to their destination, but he held Lucky’s hand the whole time. “I’m nervous,” he finally said.
“You’d be crazy if you weren’t.”
Bo pulled into a parking space at the hospital. “What if I screw this up?”
Wasn’t that Lucky’s line? “You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s not who you are. Now, c’mon. Someone’s waiting for you.” Lucky leaned over the console and brushed his lips across Bo’s.
In less than a year they’d be making this trip again. If Lucky’s heart swelled any bigger it might explode into a million pieces.
The held Bo’s hand up the walkway. Who the fuck cared if someone they didn’t even know didn’t approve of their PDA? No one said anything, and if someone glared their way, well, Lucky showed them the finer points of public displays of affection by raising Bo’s hand and kissing the knuckles.
At last they entered the hospital, breezed right on by the reception desk and to a waiting elevator. On the way up, Lucky gave Bo’s hand another squeeze. “Let’s not keep the boss waiting.”
He ambled down the hall. How many times had Lucky been to this hospital, to talk to witnesses, to get patched up, to see Walter? To watch his son through panes of glass.
This was the first time he’d come here happ
y as all fuck, though his heart still might explode. He stopped in a waiting room. “I’ll wait right here.”
Bo hesitated a minute, then conceded. “I’ll be right back.”
Lucky waited, checking the time on his cell phone every few minutes. What was taking so long? Was there a problem? Should he go see? Call in the cavalry?
After the longest hour in history Bo returned, The Dimple joined by the smaller indention on the other side of Bo’s mouth.
In his arms he held a bundle of blue blankets. An orderly came up behind him with a cart laden with basins, bags and equipment they’d need at home.
Bo blinked back glittering tears and lowered the blankets to give Lucky a look at the contents.
Black hair, black lashes over closed eyelids. Adorable snubbed nose.
This kid was going to wrap Lucky around his little finger.
Lucky bent and kissed his son’s dark head. “C’mon, Alejandro, let’s get you home.”
***
Lucky sat in the back of Bo’s truck with the car seat and portable heart monitor, watching Alejandro sleep. Every now and then the baby sucked his bottom lip. Dark eyelashes swept his dusky cheeks.
Cars. Trucks. Motorcycles. The front yard resembled a used car lot.
The Schollenberger-Lucklighter-Harrison house no longer stood out as a poor relation next to better-dressed cousins, though if one looked closely they’d notice the cracks in the driveway, the mismatched boards in the privacy fence where Lucky finally got around to a patch job during his enforced leave of absence, and the garage door they finally coerced to open and close, only to fix it in a permanently down position.
Bo lifted Alejandro out of his car seat while Lucky did his best pack mule impression, loaded down with a diaper bag, a box of diapers, and the heart monitor they’d need to keep on their son a while longer.
Their son.
Last year had been just Bo and Lucky. Oh, the differences one year made.
Voices carried from the house to the walkway. Lucky had long given up on dreading a houseful of people.
The door opened before he and Bo got there.
“They’re here!” Ty yelled over his shoulder. “Need some help?”
Lucky shifted a bag on his shoulder. “As a matter of fact—”