Suspicion (Diversion Book 7)

by Eden Winters

  “Who?” Ty asked, ignoring his pizza in favor of leaning forward and hanging on to Rett’s every word.

  “Your uncle.”

  Ty eyed Lucky and sank back on the bench. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to ask Lucky questions, even if he did think getting shot was awesome. His teenaged stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to find any aspect of his uncle interesting.

  Not anymore. He’d been so excited after finding out Lucky wasn’t dead after all, merely living life as someone else as a form of witness protection.

  But that had been when Ty lived in Spokane and Lucky lived in Atlanta.

  Todd, on the other hand, had no problem nosing into other people’s business, though with his usual light touch. “You actually got shot? I’ll bet you have some pretty good stories to tell, huh?” He paused a minute, pink flushing his cheeks. “Umm… you don’t mind me asking, do you?”

  Blushing. From a Lucklighter. What a first.

  “Getting shot happens sometimes in our line of work.” Lucky really didn’t want to discuss work on his day off, and he definitely didn’t want the conversation to end with talk of the bureau’s memorial website, which paid tribute to fallen agents and other employees. However, Todd asked questions, showed an interest in Lucky’s life. A step in the right direction for uncle/nephew connection, right?

  Bo, bless his heart, let Lucky duck out of the conversation. He raised a brow in question and Lucky nodded. As much as he liked talking to his nephews, Lucky didn’t really want to go into detail about getting shot. Or breaking an ankle. Or getting locked into a car trunk and abducted.

  Bo braced his forearms on the table and lowered his voice to secret-sharing volume. “Did he tell you about the time he was checking out a counterfeit drug operation, fell down a kudzu vine, and wound up covered in bat sh… droppings?”

  “No!” Todd side-eyed Lucky and grinned. “Spill.”

  So much for Lucky becoming legendary in his nephews’ eyes, or interesting them in a life as an agent—not that he’d let them if they wanted to. Nothing said, “This is not a glamorous job” like getting covered in bat shit, breaking an ankle, and getting tossed out of a truck in the middle of nowhere.

  A flash of copper caught his eye. Holding still, he watched from his peripheral vision. He faked a sneeze into a napkin, using the excuse to turn his head slightly.

  Partially hidden behind a video game stood Rookie Rogers, bumbling idiot of the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau, and the poorest tail Lucky’d ever shaken off.

  Pinging from the machines, laughter, and loud conversations made Lucky’s head throb. Still he managed to watch the man so out of place in polo shirt, khaki pants, and loafers.

  The intel Lucky had on him said the man wasn’t married and didn’t have kids. No nephews or nieces even.

  So, why was he skulking around an amusement arcade?

  Lucky stood. “I gotta hit the john.” The moment he rose, Rogers fled, giving away far too much.

  Now why would an SNB agent follow Lucky on his day off?

  Chapter Two

  “Wanna play a game?” Lucky sprawled on the brown, not-real-leather couch, one of Bo’s contributions when they’d gotten the house. He held up a game controller and pulled the lever on the side of the couch to recline his half.

  Ty slumped down as far away from Lucky as possible while still sharing the same piece of furniture. “Nah.”

  “Watch a movie? We got Netflix.”

  The sulky teen slouched some more, staring at the floor. “Movies are lame.”

  Lucky sighed. He so did not know how to deal with someone determined to hate everything. Remind you of anyone? the version of Bo living in his head asked. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to be back in Spokane, where I belong!” Ty dashed out of the living room and down the hall. The guestroom door slammed with enough force to register on the Richter scale.

  Bo grabbed Lucky’s arm, keeping him from sprinting after Ty. “Just let him be. He’s going through a tough time right now.”

  “Shouldn’t I go talk to him?” That’s what Lucky’s father would have done. Sternly.

  “Give him some space and let him cool down.” Bo seemed awfully calm. Oh. He’d had an abusive father, putting a unique spin on his parenting technique. “New home, new school, new friends. He’s going through a lot of changes right now.”

  Lucky rarely felt blessed, but compared to Bo, he’d hit the parental jackpot, even if his folks weren’t doing so great now in their relationship. They still lived in the same house—mostly. And Dad’s health improved after Lucky donated a chunk of liver, so hope survived, right?

  Todd looked up from his spot on the floor, where he’d been giving a happy Moose a belly rub. “He’s such a drama queen sometimes.” The Great Pyrenees nudged Todd’s hand, prompting Todd to go back to rubbing.

  Lucky did his best, but finally couldn’t take any more. While Todd and Bo played video games, he snuck down the hall and knocked. Nothing. Easing the door open, he peered inside. Ty lay on the bed, eyes closed. “Ty?”

  No answer.

  Ty’s closed lids showed no movement, and his breath came a bit choppy. Not asleep, then, just playing possum.

  When Lucky thought of parenthood, he pictured his nephew young enough to toss in the air and catch, or the baby he hoped to tuck into the nursery one day, courtesy of his sister, a turkey baster, and Bo’s sperm. Babies didn’t stay small, and if he wanted to be a father, he’d have to learn to handle kids at all ages.

  If only he hadn’t gone to prison, and the boys had grown up with him in their lives, things might be different.

  He sighed and closed the door.

  Maybe he wasn’t ready after all.

  ***

  The glow of a security light shone through the window blinds, painting stripes across the room. Above the bed, a ceiling fan turned in lazy circles. Cat Lucky sat on the windowsill, staring out at the night, while Moose softly snored at the foot of the bed.

  Human Lucky lay on his back next to Bo, hands behind his head. Would the god-awful music keep him awake all night?

  The throbbing bass beat cut off, plunging the night into quiet but leaving Lucky’s ears ringing. How did his nephews even listen to that crap?

  Bo rolled over and ran his lips along Lucky’s jaw, sliding his hand down Lucky’s chest to his groin.

  “We can’t,” Lucky said, grasping Bo’s wrist and biting down on the “fuck me!” he really wanted to say. After all the adrenaline he’d pumped into his system today, he needed physical release. But…

  “Why not?” Bo asked, nuzzling Lucky’s neck and inching his fingers lower.

  Lucky tightened his grip on Bo’s wrist, caught himself, and let Bo go. Restraining Bo wouldn’t end well. His therapy might be helping, but being tied to a bed by an alcoholic father and thinking the house was on fire left a lasting impression. “Because the boys might hear.”

  How embarrassing would that be, if they smirked at him over breakfast. Or worse, if he grossed them out.

  “Have you considered that might have been why they played the music so loud?”

  No. Lucky hadn’t. Damn. What a perfectly wasted opportunity.

  “It’s not like we’d be swinging from chandeliers or anything,” Bo continued. “Us living together and sharing a bed is kinda hard to ignore, and they’re old enough to know what people who live together do.”

  “We don’t have a chandelier.” And didn’t the mental image of sexual acrobatics put ideas in Lucky’s head that’d keep him up all night, in more ways than one?

  “Details.” Bo planted a kiss on top of Lucky’s head and didn’t push on the other issue. “We’re more the ‘fuck on a motorcycle’ type anyway.”

  Even as tired as he was, Lucky’s cock tried to rise. Oh, to lean Bo over the Harley.

  And risk the boys coming out to the garage to investigate the noise.

  Nope. Not happening. Other matters pushed aside thoughts of sex. “Do you r
eckon Ty’s gonna be okay? He seems pretty upset about moving.”

  Bo nodded. “He’s leaving friends, scared he won’t make new ones, and he seems really close to Todd. Having his brother go off to college, even if the campus is nearby, is going to take time to adjust to. Us getting up in his face about his moods won’t help anything. Don’t you remember how you were at that age?”

  Sixteen. So full of himself, Lucky thought he’d known everything, and what he didn’t wasn’t worth knowing. “I was a first-class asshole.” And well on his way to a prison sentence. Also, he’d sprung wood at the damnedest moments.

  “Nice to know some things never change.” Even in the dark Lucky felt the curve of Bo’s smile against his skin.

  “Hey, now!”

  “All I’m saying is, sixteen is a tough age, things are happening too fast.” Bo patted Lucky’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Give him time. He misses his mother but thinks he’s too old to admit it.”

  Yeah, Charlotte had been gone longer than they’d intended, missing the start of Ty’s school year. Why did Atlanta schools have to start so danged early? “I miss my mother at times, and I’m one hell of a lot older than he is.”

  “I miss mine too,” Bo said quietly.

  Lucky held him tighter. There wasn’t anything he could say to ease Bo’s pain. Time to change the subject. “You said that you wanted kids someday. Is that still true?”

  Without missing a beat, Bo replied, “I don’t think Charlotte would part with hers. She’s had them for years and all.”

  Lucky snorted. “You know I’m not talking about Todd and Ty.”

  Silence.

  Crap. His nephews weren’t that bad, were they?

  Lucky ran his hand up Bo’s back.

  Bo stiffened. “Don’t start things you don’t intend to finish. It’s been a while.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lucky whispered, stilling his hand.

  “It’s okay,” Bo murmured against Lucky’s neck. “I understand you’re uncomfortable and wouldn’t ask you to do anything you’re unwilling to do.”

  “I’m not unwilling.”

  Bo planted a kiss on Lucky’s cheek. “Just not with teenagers in the house.” He snorted. “Let me ask you something. How old were you the first time you had sex?”

  Oh, dear Lord. The haybarn of his youth flashed through Lucky’s mind, and the field hand who’d taught him more than hay hauling.

  “Yes, Lucky, hard as it is to believe, they probably have too. They’re older than you remember. You haven’t been around teenagers much. You’ll get used to them and relax.” He wrapped his arm around Lucky and squeezed. “I’ll wait it out.” The hardon pressed against Lucky’s thigh accused Lucky of not being fair.

  How could he possibly have sex with Bo, knowing only two closed doors separated him from the boys he used to babysit?

  Young men. Not boys. Still.

  He exhaled a harsh breath. “I’m sorry.” Maybe if they were legally married he’d feel differently. Maybe not. Charlotte hadn’t said anything to him about the boys’ feelings on a gay uncle. Surely they’d have said something if they had problems with Lucky having a male partner.

  Or rather, Ty would. Loudly. Often.

  Only to have his mother hand him his ass on a plate.

  “Don’t be sorry.” The slowest, sweetest kiss said Bo meant his words.

  Another potential problem crossed Lucky’s mind. “I saw Rookie Rogers at the Fun House today.”

  “You don’t say,” Bo mumbled, voice sleepy.

  “Yeah. He ran when I spotted him.”

  “Lucky, anyone in the department with good sense runs when you spot them.”

  True. But… “I think he was tailing us.”

  “Why would he do that? It was probably just a coincidence,” Bo got out on a yawn.

  Coincidence. Yeah. Lucky didn’t believe in those much.

  Bo brushed his lips over Lucky’s cheek. “Get some sleep. It’s been a hard day.”

  Lucky lay awake, wanting nothing more than to roll over and fuck Bo senseless.

  Damn it. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out the box he’d shoved in there. Opening the lid, he pulled out two rings.

  They gleamed in the low light.

  He’d asked, and Bo had said no.

  ***

  Lucky hugged the phone between his shoulder and ear. “Isn’t it early to be calling out there on the west coast?” He stood over the sink, separating egg whites since Bo didn’t like yolks, fished out some shell, and grabbed a fork to mix them up. Bo used the wire thingy, but Lucky never managed the darned thing without slopping eggs onto the counter.

  “The girls took me out last night. Sort of a going away party.” His sister giggled. “Actually, I just got home.”

  “Let me guess, you talked all Southern and guys bought you drinks.”

  He imagined Charlotte’s eye roll. “You’re never gonna forget that, are you?”

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” He grinned. No use in having incriminating evidence on his sister if he didn’t intend to use it. Not like he hadn’t gone all Southern to get what he wanted before.

  “I need to ask you something.” She sounded much soberer than a moment ago.

  “Yeah?”

  “It may take a while for the house to sell. Are you sure you don’t mind us staying with you until I can get a place of my own, and making sure Ty goes to school?”

  “Bo would have my ass if I did mind.” It’d be great to have Charlotte and her kids around, even if their presence did play hell on Lucky’s sex life. It’d only be for a few weeks, right? Lord knew she’d do the same for him. School, he’d manage.

  Or Bo would.

  “If you’re sure. Are the boys behaving?”

  Lucky paused a second too long.

  Charlotte blew out a breath. “Let me guess, Ty unloaded on you with two barrels of ‘poor little me’.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Um… I’m his mother.”

  “He’s not that bad.” Not really, when compared to the juveniles he’d had to arrest on occasion. Todd and Ty weren’t like them, though. He couldn’t imagine them selling drugs, or their bodies.

  Shit. As uptight as he was about his nephews, he’d actually shot a kid not much older than Todd.

  He poured the eggs into a hot skillet. Sizzling and steam filled the kitchen.

  “Pan’s too hot,” Charlotte said.

  “How do you—”

  “I’ve cooked before. A lot. Too much.”

  Lucky snorted and dumped scorched scrambled eggs into the trash. Oh shit! What was burning? Smoke belched from the toaster. Two charred briquettes shot into the air.

  They never hit the floor.

  A white blur fled the kitchen with a mouthful of burned toast, a black and white shadow racing behind. At least someone appreciated Lucky’s efforts.

  “Remember what a little shit you were at his age?” Charlotte sounded slightly tipsy again and incredibly fond. “I’m surprised Mama and Daddy let you survive until adulthood.”

  Trust Charlotte to dish out reminders he didn’t need. At Ty’s age he’d definitely been a little shit, had tried pot, beer, liquor, and a few things he wasn’t sure of. During their teens, kids were stupid. He’d also had sex. More than once.

  A lot more than once.

  But his nephews were so young and innocent.

  “I still remember you drag racing down that old dirt road.”

  Lucky winced. No matter what off-the-wall schemes Ty dreamed up, they couldn’t beat Lucky’s exploits. “You didn’t by any chance tell Ty and Todd about that, did you?”

  “No. Didn’t want to encourage bad behavior. How about all the times you slipped out your bedroom window? Or jammed to heavy metal in your room and locked the door so Mama couldn’t get in and turn your stereo off.”

  Yeah, he’d used loud music to hide the fact he’d slipped out. Oh. “I’ll be right back. I gotta check on something.” He slipp
ed down the hall and eased the guestroom door open. Ty and Todd lay on the air mattress he’d gotten from Rett, backs to each other. He released a relieved breath and hurried back to the phone.

  “Back,” he said.

  Charlotte yawned. “Okay. I need some sleep. Tell the boys I love them and I’ll call them later.”

  “Will do.” If Ty would bother listening to him at all. Lucky hung up the phone, returned to the refrigerator for more eggs, and stopped midway. He retrieved the device, thumbed through his contacts, and hit “call”.

  “Good morning, Richmond,” his mother said. “You’re up early on a Sunday. What’s up?”

  Lucky held his breath. He needed to do this. Should have done this years ago, if only he’d been on speaking terms with his parents then. “Mama, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for being such an asshole growing up.”

  ***

  Lucky sat the breakfast tray, holding green tea and his third attempt at scrambled egg whites and toast—and buttering Bo up—on the nightstand and stepped back, watching Bo sleep. No, nothing creepy about that at all.

  But… Damn, the man was beautiful, curled up on his side, dark brown hair sleep-tousled and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Face slack with sleep, The Dimple remained hidden.

  Bo’s dimple-producing smiles rocked Lucky’s world.

  He glanced at the closed door on the far wall, fighting temptation, then gave up and stepped into the room he hoped to use one day.

  “When the time comes and you and Bo are ready to start a family, me having Bo’s baby is the closest thing you’ll get to your own,” Charlotte had said.

  He gazed into the empty room, imagining childish giggles and toys littering the floor. Or him and Bo gently placing a sleeping baby into a crib, watching a tiny chest rise and fall.

  He might not be perfect but, if given the chance, he’d damned sure give his all to be a good father. No doubt whatsoever of Bo’s ability to be a loving and nurturing parent. Which brought to mind an image of Bo, curled up on the couch with a miniature version of himself, reading a kid’s story.