Tradition: Diversion 7.2

by Eden Winters

  Tradition

  A Diversion Christmas Novella (Diversion 7.2)

  Eden Winters

  Warning

  This book contains adult language and themes, including graphic descriptions of sexual acts which some may find offensive. It is intended for mature readers only, of legal age to possess such material in their area.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Tradition © 2019 by Eden Winters

  Cover Art by L.C. Chase

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission of the author, except as brief quotations as in the case of reviews.

  Published 2019, Rocky Ridge Books

  Books in the Diversion series:

  Diversion

  Collusion

  Corruption

  Manipulation

  Redemption

  Reunion

  Suspicion

  Relation

  Tradition

  Coming soon: Decision

  Chapter 1

  Lucky was getting too old for this shit.

  Just where the hell could he find… Oh. Electronics. Target in sight, he wove this way and that. Only two of the shopping cart’s wheels worked, juddering his arms every time he pushed faster than a snail’s pace. Not that he could go very fast. Slow-assed people ought to get the hell out of his way.

  Too bad flashing his badge here probably wouldn’t help.

  Wham! Ow, damn it! Shopping cart collisions weren’t supposed to happen to him. Only to idiots not paying attention. Lucky rubbed his bad ankle, now growing a fresh bruise. “Watch where you’re going!” Department stores needed traffic cops, especially around the holidays, when every damned body seemed to lose their minds and head to the nearest shopping center.

  The man didn’t even bother to apologize. Oh, if Lucky only…

  “Down, boy. No growling in public.” Bo’s hand on Lucky’s shoulder hit the off switch on his temper.

  Damn it! What was the use of mingling with those who didn’t plan far enough ahead if not stress relief? “We should’ve shopped online.” Lucky could be at the house, surfing the Internet with a lapful of cat. And a nephew shouting at a TV and playing a video game. Charlotte nagging Ty about homework.

  And a house screaming for repairs.

  On second thought, he might be better off here after all.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Bo took over cart duties, winding around a woman stopped in the middle of the aisle. What the fuck? All four cart wheels rolled perfectly for Bo. Not fair. Bo continued talking, not noticing Lucky standing in shocked awe where they’d parted company. Lucky dodged small children to catch up, and settled in beside Bo like he’d been there the whole time. What had he missed?

  Bo waved one hand in the air, pushing the now-cooperative cart with the other. “But we talked about starting our own traditions, and going out shopping at the last minute was something I did as a kid.” He stopped to watch a toy train circling a tree in the holiday department.

  Amusing, yes, but not worth leaving the house for.

  Bo brought out the big guns, using the three little words guaranteed to bend Lucky to his will. Okay, maybe not the three little words, but three little words Lucky couldn’t say no to nonetheless: “With my mom.”

  Right then, Lucky’s spinning thoughts came to a screeching halt.

  He didn’t ask, merely slipped his arm around his lover in a silent show of support. Words and Lucky didn’t get along too well sometimes. Better to show how he felt. They’d talked some of Bo’s mother, who’d died in a car wreck when he was young, leaving him to face hell with an asshole father who hadn’t deserved kids. He still carried around a load of grief and guilt thinking he could have somehow made a difference if he’d been in the car with her when she’d plunged into a ravine.

  For the briefest moment Bo laid his head against Lucky’s, then pulled away when a man scowled.

  “Don’t mind him. If he don’t wanna see PDAs he shoulda kept his ass at home.” Lucky turned, watching the offender watch him back. One wrong move, one flinch…

  “Lucky!” Bo hissed.

  “So, what other traditions did you have?” Lucky doubted brawling in the middle of the department store made the list.

  “Me and Drew helped decorate the tree, and Mom played Christmas CDs from the sixties. She loved 60’s music.” Bo hummed a tune under his breath.

  Sixties music. Check.

  “What about your traditions?” Bo jumped back to let a family with kids by, nearly getting bashed in the head by an errant baseball bat one kid carried over his shoulder. Okay, Lucky’s head, Bo’s chest, maybe.

  Lucky let his mind drift back to memories he usually shoved down to the back of his mind. “Mom got up early on Christmas morning and fixed a big dinner. Ham or turkey, sometimes both, macaroni pie, sweet potato casserole, pecan pie.” Lucky’s mouth watered at the memory—a memory soured a moment later when they passed the perfume counter and a thousand different scents battled for control of his sinuses. He held his breath till they’d gotten a safe distance away.

  Cheesy Christmas songs blared over the store’s speakers, competing with laughter, sirens, bells, whistles and other noises from the toy aisle, and a dancing reindeer singing, “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.” The noise! He pinched the bridge of his nose. Headache coming in five, four, three…

  Bo found an opening in the crowd and steered through. Lucky dashed behind him before the opening closed. “Here we are.” They stood side by side in front of a rack holding video games. Lucky had no clue what to get Ty, not being a gamer. Bo placed a box from the rack in the cart. “This one. Now for Charlotte.”

  Two seconds? Bo picked a present in two seconds? Maybe their Christmas tradition should be Bo last-minute shopping and Lucky being anywhere people weren’t.

  They’d filled the cart about half full so far, gifts for Bo’s family and Lucky’s. As much as Lucky loved having his family back, he sure saved more money around the holidays when they’d snubbed him.

  Still, it was nice buying a present for the niece he hardly saw, knowing this year it wouldn’t be returned unopened. Or maybe not. His brother and sister-in-law might not like that he’d gotten her a keyboard. He couldn’t fight a smile, imagining the noise at his brother’s house. Yeah, a keyboard, because a drum set would’ve put him over budget.

  “Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags?” Bo stopped by a wrapping paper display. He bypassed some of the gaudier choices in favor of shiny foil paper in greens, reds, and gold.

  Lucky sidled over to the bags. “Bags. I can’t wrap worth shit.” Besides, he always wound up getting his fingers taped together, ripping the paper, or losing the scissors halfway through. Some he’d never found again.

  Bo smiled and patted Lucky’s arm. “Why don’t I get some of both? I’ll help you if you want me to.”

  But who would help Lucky wrap the presents he wasn’t supposed to buy for Bo this year, since they’d agreed not to exchange gifts and save the money for the child they hoped to soon have? That had better not wind up on the traditions list. Lucky liked presents, damn it, and was owed a backload of twelve years or so.

  They found gifts for Bo’s aunt and the man who’d stepped into the role of uncle, Bo’s brother, and a gift basket of candy and cookies for Rett and her son. “Mrs. Smith will kill us if we encourage Walter to cheat on his diet,” Bo said, putting back the candy and cookies Lucky’d picked up and choosing a fruit basket instead.

  Shopping cart piled high and Lucky’s feet in danger of falling off, they trudged to the front of the store and waited in an impossibly long line. Lines. Right up there with Monday morning
s and palmetto bugs on Lucky’s shit list.

  “Damn, what a line.” Lucky rapped out a beat with his not-exactly-a-wedding ring against the cart handle.

  “Damn, what a line!” Bo repeated, like the line from hell was a good thing. He pulled out his phone and tapped a bit on the screen. “Hey! A gym!” He glanced at the mass of waiting shoppers again. “Yeah, I got time.” He leaned against the cart, tongue peeking out from between his lips.

  With the light freckles across his nose and childlike eagerness, he looked downright cute. Not that Lucky would tell him so. He did like breathing, after all. “Catching pookies again?”

  “Something like that.” Bo didn’t even glance up from his phone.

  At last came their turn at the register—only because Bo didn’t see the three teenaged girls with two items each who wanted to cut in line. Bo would have let them.

  Lucky piled items on the conveyor. Bo held up a finger. “One more minute. I almost got this.” By his third “One more minute” Lucky had paid and was heading out of the store.

  Woodsmoke rode on the breeze. Better be chopped wood in a proper fireplace. He turned his jacket collar up against the cold.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Bo yelled, pumping his fist and making people back away and eye him warily. “I won. I am da man! Wait until I tell Ty!”

  Wait until Lucky got his hands on some junk food. He’d gotten better at hiding, but had Ty discovered his latest Oreo stash?

  He’d been through an hour of hell, he deserved empty calories, as Bo called anything tasty.

  Lucky sighed when they got to Bo’s shiny new SUV, reminded every time he climbed in of what happened to Bo’s Durango. “Want me to drive?”

  Finally, Bo tore his attention away from his phone. “Um…”

  Here they went again. “Bo, I done told you, wrecking your truck wasn’t my fault.” Lucky couldn’t help if someone tried to kill him using a car for a missile.

  Bo studied Lucky, cut his eyes to his phone, then regarded Lucky again. “Okay, but no driving over fifty-five, and no cutting lanes.”

  Spoilsport. However, Lucky filed away “phone as a distraction” for later use.

  The Bronco had a definite advantage over Lucky’s Camaro. No one feared the Camaro the way they did the Sherman tank disguised as an SUV. One honk of the horn changed several minds about which lane they wanted.

  A familiar red sign came into view. “New tradition. The post-shopping sundae.” Oh, hot fudge sundaes. When had he last had one? He’d dealt with other people’s stupidity long enough to deserve a treat.

  Bo glanced up from his game. “What?”

  Without waiting for agreement, Lucky turned into the Dairy Hut. “You want anything?” Please, please, please, let Lucky not get a lecture on the evils of sugar.

  “Yeah. Get me a small strawberry sundae.”

  Do what? Lucky willed the car in front of him to move so he could place his order before Bo realized what he’d done and change his mind.

  Lucky ordered and pulled the truck up, then inched along until he reached the window and had his hands wrapped around his reward for dealing with shopping idiots. He passed Bo’s over.

  Bo stopped playing long enough to take a bite. “Oh, that’s good.”

  “You? Eating empty calories?” Who was this man and what had he done with Bo?

  “We’re making our own holiday traditions, remember? Can you imagine in a few years bringing our kids here?”

  Kids. Bo and Lucky responsible for young impressionable minds. Lord help them all.

  They returned home to an empty house, or empty except for the pets, one greeting them with a wagging tail, the other with a sleepy blink and a yawn from the back of the couch. Charlotte and Ty must still be stuck in shopping hell. Lucky loved his sister and nephew, but better them than him. “How much time we got?”

  Bo checked his phone. “About another hour.”

  An hour? The things he could accomplish in sixty minutes. Lucky waggled his brows. “Just enough time to…”

  The staying hand Bo held up his way did not bode well for Lucky’s sex life. “We need to get these presents wrapped. If we don’t drop mine off at FedEx tomorrow, they’ll never get to Arkansas in time.”

  “I can take off a few hours.”

  Bo gave Lucky his best, “Oh, please” face. “Tomorrow is the last work day before the holidays. You can’t miss.” He pulled out wrapping paper, tape, and scissors. Lucky should warn Bo about his track record with scissors.

  Nah, let it be a surprise.

  May abstinence not be a new tradition.

  Chapter 2

  “We always watched A Wonderful Life. Don’t you remember, Ri… Lucky?” After a few months Charlotte still hadn’t wrapped her mouth around not calling Lucky “Richie” as she had when they were younger.

  “My family watched A Christmas Carol.” Bo lazily aimed the remote at the TV.

  “There’s a new Christmas movie on Netflix,” Ty chimed in, leg slouched over the chair arm and pecking away at his cell phone. As much as he used the darned thing, he’d wear the current one out before next Christmas.

  In which case, Lucky already knew what to get him.

  “Me and the boys always watched the Santa Clause movies.” Charlotte tore her attention from the latest embroidery/cross-stitch whatever she was working on and didn’t notice Ty roll his eyes and mouth, “Lame”.

  Lucky had tolerated A Wonderful Life for his mother’s sake, and didn’t rightly remember any of the others mentioned. “Does Die Hard count as a Christmas movie?”

  “Yes!” Ty shouted, offsetting Bo and Charlotte’s adamant “No!”

  Charlotte let out a sigh. “I wish Todd would’ve come home for Christmas.”

  “Why didn’t he?” The house was getting crowded, but as Lucky’s mom used to say, “Like a mother’s heart, there’s always room for one more.”

  Ty yawned, never looking up from his phone. “He’s got a new girlfriend. He’s afraid if he leaves her alone too long, she’ll come to her senses and run.”

  Trust Ty to hide missing his brother behind jokes.

  “Ty!” Charlotte spat. “That ain’t nice.”

  Charlotte expected a teenager to be nice? Did she not remember her own misspent youth?

  “We’re going to pick him up on the way to the farm.” Charlotte jabbed a little harder than necessary at her needlepoint. “Or else.”

  “I found it! Here we go.” Bo plopped down on the couch with a satisfied smile.

  Lucky squinted at the TV, making sure to stand behind the couch so Bo wouldn’t comment on his vision. Just because he’d be thirty-nine in a few months didn’t make him old, damn it! More and more he’d been squinting and holding books away from his nose.

  Or jacking up the print size on his computer.

  A black and white movie showed onscreen. No one said anything.

  “You know, I never really liked this movie,” Charlotte admitted, the first one in the room to be honest. “I’ve seen it at least twenty-five times.”

  Bo and Charlotte both turned on the couch to face Lucky.

  Lucky held his hands up, palms out. “I done told you how I feel.”

  All eyes went to Bo. After a moment Bo grinned. “Die Hard, it is!” He clicked the remote.

  ***

  “What we got so far?” Lucky stopped undressing for bed and peered over Bo’s shoulder at his iPad.

  “Shopping, sundaes, Die Hard, decorations, tree up right after Thanksgiving, sending Christmas cards, the office Christmas party, and the Christmas parade.”

  “Have we left off anything you want?”

  Bo gazed up at Lucky with soulful brown eyes. “Those will come when we add more people.”

  Oh.

  Lucky took the tablet from Bo’s hand and placed it on the bedside table. “I’ve got a tradition for you.” He grinned and dropped to his knees, mouthing Bo’s cock through his jeans.

  “Oh, damn. Feels so good.” Bo leaned back, putt
ing his weight on his arms. Head back, eyes closed, a sexy wet dream come to life. “I won’t officially add it to the list, but oh, baby, this is so there.”

  No argument from Lucky. He fumbled with Bo’s belt, underwear and jeans, easing them over the rounded mounds of his gorgeous ass and down his long legs, lightly covered with dark hair.

  Ah, there was his true prize, nestled in a neatly clipped thatch of dark pubic hair: the uncut cock Lucky could suck forever.

  Only semi hard. Lucky could fix that. Truth be told it gave him a little thrill to take Bo from soft to hard, then bring him off.

  He ran his hands over Bo’s hair-covered thighs, pushing them farther apart and giving him room to play. Except…

  Shoes and jeans had to go. Gathered around Bo’s ankles wasn’t working.

  Bo lay moaning on the bed, wearing nothing but his bleach-spattered T. Lucky dug his fingers into the tail of Bo’s shirt. No, he had someplace better to touch. Moving his fingers to Bo’s ass, he lifted, taking Bo deeper.

  Oh, yeah. Fully hard now. Lucky ran his tongue under Bo’s foreskin, lapped at the tip of his dick, and plunged the hardness towards his throat again.

  “You are so damned good at that.” Bo let out a whimper, digging his fingers into Lucky’s hair and urging him on.

  Lucky pressed the spot Bo liked under his balls, earning an, “Oh damn, oh damn, oh hot damn!”

  Maybe he’d find a way to work the hot fudge sundae tradition into the Christmas blowjob. Lucky reached down and adjusted his cramped dick.

  He pulled off Bo long enough to open his pants and give his erection room to grow. Bo’s cock glistened with Lucky’s saliva. Pretty. Lucky dove again, reaching down and stroking himself.

  Bo bucked up, abandoning Lucky’s hair to dig his fingers into the comforter.

  The muscles on Bo’s abs flexed, his muscles seizing. Any minute now. Lucky bobbed faster. His hand had to be a blur on his cock.

  “Oh!” Bo arched off the bed, grabbed Lucky’s head, and spurted into his mouth.

  Lucky took every drop, sucking until Bo flinched away. He stood, stroking himself harder. Keeping his eyes on Bo’s, he lost himself in the sight of one hell of a good-looking man lying in front of him, nearly naked.