by Eden Winters
“Yeah.”
Confession time. Which might earn a laugh. “Mrs. Griggs taught me how to do the sweet potatoes. Rett showed me how to make pecan pies. Mrs. Smith helped with the dressing. The macaroni pie is Mom’s recipe.”
Bo yanked Lucky into an aggressive kiss, plundering his mouth with a minty-tasting tongue. Why hadn’t he learned to cook sooner? “No one has ever done something so sweet for me.”
Sweet? Lucky? Bo better not even start that rumor.
Heat creeping up his face again, Lucky brandished a hand toward the living room. “Go on out and watch TV or something. I’ll finish up here and bring you a cup of tea.”
Bo tapped his fingers on the counter. The kitchen had always been his domain. He might not like surrendering his territory. Then again, he had allowed Charlotte in here. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Lucky scrambled around the kitchen, throwing dirty dishes into the dishwasher and wiping down counters. He finished the sweet potatoes and made a note of when the Tofurkey would be done enough for him to bake the other dishes.
He brewed coffee for himself and used Bo’s K-cup dispenser to make a cup of decaf green tea.
Now for the next part in Operation Perfect Christmas. Bo sat on the couch, socked feet on an ottoman. He took the cup. “Thank you.”
“Ready to open presents?”
Bo’s scowl would have made most men run. “I thought we agreed not to get each other anything.”
Lucky tried for an innocent look. “I didn’t get you nothing.”
Bo narrowed his eyes.
Lucky swallowed hard. His plans could soon go so wrong. He’d leave the gifts they’d gotten from family and friends for later. Before Bo could protest more, Lucky darted over to the tree and brought back a few badly wrapped packages. He placed the offerings between him and Bo on the couch.
Christmas called for presents. Bo deserved presents, no matter how small.
“Lucky,” Bo said in a warning growl, taking a gift anyway.
Lucky held up his hands. “It’s not from me. Read the card.”
Bo scoffed but lifted the card. “To Bo from Moose.” He shot Lucky a lifted-brow glare. “Really, Lucky?”
Lucky held up a package. “Hey, he got me one too!” Ripping into the paper might distract Bo and keep him from getting angry.
Though to be honest, he hadn’t even spent fifty bucks on all the gifts combined.
The sound of tearing paper had Lucky looking back up. Bo held a small dragon figurine Lucky had found at a discounter. “That can go on your desk at work.”
“Thank you, Lucky.”
Lucky shrugged. “Don’t thank me, thank Moose.”
“Now yours.”
Lucky opened his package to reveal a novelty medicine bottle with a label that read, “Fuckitol” and a list of situations that might make him want one. “Dealing with newbies” wasn’t listed, but should be.
“Let me guess. That’s for your desk?” Bo tapped a finger against his chin.
“How’d you know?”
“Moose gave you that?”
“Nah. Can’t you tell this is the kind of gift a cat gives?”
Lucky held up the card for Bo to read out loud, “From Cat Lucky. Now, go feed me.” He glanced up. “You’re lucky it’s not a dead mouse.”
Yes, he was. Or squirrel. Or the neighbor’s beagle if the cat got half a chance.
Bo shook his next package. “After that, I’m kind of afraid what I’ll get.” He opened the paper to reveal a small, worn box that snapped open to reveal an antique tie-tack, and gasped. “Where did you get this?”
Lucky kept his voice even. “Your aunt gave that to me… I mean, Cat Lucky. It belonged to your grandfather, the first William Patrick Schollenberger. She found it while going through your grandfather’s things she’d put into storage.
Bo stared at the tie tack a long moment and wiped moisture from his eyes. “I barely knew him. He died when I was little.”
“Well, now you have something to remember him by. She sent some pictures of him holding a baby you. I’ll show you later.”
Lucky opened his second gift, a coffee cup that read, “If assholes could fly, this place would be an airport.”
Bo’s tears turned to laughter. “You are not taking that to work, are you?”
Lucky shrugged, already visualizing the reaction he’d get. “Why not? Don’t you want me to show off the tasteful gift my dog got me?”
Bo shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “Only you.”
“I would hope so, now that you’ve gone and domesticated me.” Did that sound like complaining? Lucky wasn’t complaining, not really, merely pointing out fact.
Bo put his gifts aside, wrapping his arms around Lucky and pulling him close. They let the dog and cat out of Ty’s room, and wound up with laps full of fur.
Until Lucky retrieved more gifts. Moose carried his chewy bone to a corner, and proceeded to gnaw.
Cat Lucky batted his catnip mouse across the floor and out of sight down the hallway.
After dinner that wasn’t too bad except that Lucky forgot to pick up rolls at the store, wrapped in an old blanket, they watched Christmas movies until they both fell asleep.
***
Lucky let Moose in for the last time of the day and strolled through the house, turning off lights. A year they’d lived here. They’d done a lot of work, and more wanted to be done, but he had the home he hadn’t even known he wanted five years ago.
He started to turn off the tree. Nah, let it shine. Let the neighbors know the Schollenberger-Harrison-Lucklighter household loved Christmas.
This year.
Bo lay asleep in their bed when Lucky got there, so he opened up the small room off their bedroom and turned on the light.
Next year, at this time, they might be tucking a little one into bed. The thought thrilled and scared him in equal measure.
His life had ups and downs, but somewhere or other he must’ve done something right, because now, life was damned near perfect.
Lucky turned the light out and crawled into bed, nudging the cat out of his way to throw an arm around Bo. Bo gave off a sleepy mumble and wriggled into Lucky’s embrace.
Yup. Damned near perfect.
***
The next morning brought a heavy heart even the festive lights couldn’t penetrate. Christmas had come and gone. So many more things he’d wanted to do, to say, to add to their traditions list. He sipped his coffee at the kitchen table.
Bo sat next to him at the four-topper table, tablet in hand. “Riding through town looking at Christmas lights?”
Sight-seeing didn’t cost much, and they might be able to fold that in with the sundae thing. “Keep.”
“Sixties Christmas music?”
“Works for me.” Anything to cause an appearance of The Dimple.
Bo tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. “Office Christmas party?”
“Up to you.” For Bo he’d endure co-workers drinking too much, pretending they liked him, and eating a catered meal that made him want to go out and find a hamburger.
Bo rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why did I even ask? Okay, here’s one: sex on the rug in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve.”
Ah, one of Lucky’s personal favorites.
If they became fathers, they’d have to watch what they did. Then again, he could always send the young ‘un to Aunt Charlotte’s. Only, not on Christmas Eve.
“Whenever we can,” Lucky replied.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Bo bent over the table and captured Lucky’s mouth in a kiss. “I never was one to like coffee, but I swear, even passing a Starbucks and getting a whiff makes me want to kiss you.”
Kissing. “Mistletoe next year. Everywhere.”
“The berries are poisonous.”
Rugrats put everything they could into their mouths. Not to mention the pets. “Then the artificial kind from the craft store. It’s the thought that
counts, right?”
“Family visits?” Bo shifted the tablet to one hand and took a sip of his green tea.
Family? Did Lucky really want to be covered up in relatives? “How about, at Thanksgiving, before and after Christmas, but we spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in our own home.”
Bo tilted his head to the side, staring at nothing. “Hmmm…” He gave a decisive nod and tapped on the screen again. “It could work.”
The list had certainly grown over time. Things they’d done this year, things they’d wanted to do but hadn’t gotten the time. Then again, no matter how carefully they planned, something always came up at the last minute. “Bo?”
“Yeah?”
“I know we want to start our own traditions, but all that really matters to me is us spending Christmas together.” Everything else fell to details.
Bo stood, held out a hand, and pulled Lucky to his feet. “Okay. Tradition number one is now written in stone. Someone will have to inform the boss. We must be together at Christmas. No assignments.”
“In a few months, you will be the boss.” Wouldn’t that be weird.
Bo grinned. “You’re right. Oh, it’s good to be the king!”
Boss and worker getting an annual review. Might be a nice role-playing game.
Not that Bo would ever abuse his power, one of the many reasons Walter chose him as successor.
They ambled out into the living room, arms wrapped around each other as they gazed at the beautifully decorated tree. A few presents waited for Charlotte and Ty’s return but most of the floor beneath the tree was empty. Well, empty except for a massive dog who’d managed to squeeze under the branches without knocking the whole thing over, and a cat patting a low-hanging ornament with one paw, doing a damned fine impression of Mrs. Griggs’ Christmas card.
Standing in silence, simply holding each other, made all right in the world. While Lucky would’ve liked to see his family, and would in a few days, the family that mattered most was right here.
Soon he’d return to work, Charlotte and Ty would be home, and Bo and Lucky’s schedules would keep them apart, but for now?
Bo pulled Lucky closer. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” And Lucky did, with all his heart, mind, and soul.
Bo’s kiss put the finishing touches on the perfect Christmas.
About the author
You will know Eden Winters by her distinctive white plumage and exuberant cry of “Hey, y’all!” in a Southern US drawl so thick it renders even the simplest of words unrecognizable. Watch out, she hugs!
Driven by insatiable curiosity, she possibly holds the world’s record for curriculum changes to the point that she’s never quite earned a degree but is a force to be reckoned with at Trivial Pursuit.
She’s trudged down hallways with police detectives, learned to disarm knife-wielding bad guys, and witnessed the correct way to blow doors off buildings. Her e-mail contains various snippets of forensic wisdom, such as “What would a dead body left in a Mexican drug tunnel look like after six months?” In the process of her adventures she has written fourteen m/m romance novels, has won several Rainbow Awards, was a Lambda Awards Finalist, and lives in terror of authorities showing up at her door to question her Internet searches.
When not putting characters in dangerous situations she’s a mild-mannered business executive, mother, grandmother, vegetarian, and PFLAG activist.
Her natural habitats are airports, coffee shops, and on the backs of motorcycles.
For more information about Eden, please visit her website at www.edenwinters.com.
***
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There are good guys, bad guys, and then there’s Lucky.
Former drug trafficker Richmond “Lucky” Lucklighter flaunts his past like a badge of honor. He speaks his mind, doesn’t play nice, and flirts with disaster while working off his sentence with the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau. If he can keep out of trouble a while longer he’ll be a free man–after he trains his replacement.
Textbook-quoting, by the book Bo Schollenberger is everything Lucky isn’t. Lucky slurps coffee, Bo lives caffeine free. Lucky worships bacon, Bo eats tofu. Lucky trusts no one, Bo calls suspects by first name. Yet when the chips are down on their shared case of breaking up a drug diversion ring, they may have more in common than they believe.
Two men. Close quarters. Friction results in heat. But Lucky scoffs at partnerships, no matter how thrilling the roller-coaster. Bo has two months to break down Lucky’s defenses… and seconds are ticking by.
At your favorite bookstore.
Dead men can’t love.
Former drug trafficker Richmond “Lucky” Lucklighter “died” in the line of duty while working off a ten-year sentence in service to the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau, only to be reborn as Simon “Lucky” Harrison. The newbie he trained, former Marine Bo Schollenberger, is now his partner on (and maybe off) the job. It’s hard to tell when Lucky doesn’t understand relationships or have a clue what any sane human is doing in his bed. Bo’s nice to have around, sure, but there’s none of that picking-out-china-together crap for Lucky.
While fighting PTSD, memories of a horrid childhood, and a prescription drug addiction, Bo is paying for his mistakes. Using his pharmacy license for the good guys provides the sort of education he never got in school. Undercover with his hard-headed partner, Bo learns that not everything is as it seems in the world of pharmaceuticals.
When a prescription drug shortage jeopardizes the patients at Rosario Children’s Cancer Center, it not only pits Bo and Lucky against predatory opportunists, but also each other. How can they tell who the villains are? The bad guys don’t wear black hats, but they might wear white coats.
At your favorite bookstore.
Winner 2014 Rainbow Awards Best Gay Mystery / Thriller.
Renegade biker. Drug runner. Recovering addict. Wanted by the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau. But he isn’t a crook, he’s the law.
SNB Agent Bo Schollenberger’s solved his cases using his brains and not a gun, and with his partner, not alone. Now he’s handed a tough new case involving designer drugs that turn users violent. One false move could end his life as he immerses himself into a motorcycle gang to locate the source. His fate depends on how well he can impersonate someone else. Someone named Cyrus Cooper.
Cyrus is everything Bo Schollenberger isn’t, including the badass enforcer for a smuggling ring. He establishes pecking order with his fists and doesn’t take shit from anybody, not even the undercover agent who comes to help his case.
Simon “Lucky” Harrison’s always been the best, whichever side of the law he was on. Former trafficker turned SNB agent, he damned well ought to be undercover in this motorcycle gang, instead of hanging around the office going crazy with new policies, new people, and “inter-departmental cooperation” that sticks him in a classroom. Yet he’s passed over for the SNB’s biggest case in decades in favor of the rookie who shares his bed. A man Lucky thought he knew.
When survival depends on a web of tangled lies, lines blur, worlds collide, and a high stakes game turns friend to foe. Lucky knows the difference between Bo the agent and Cyrus the outlaw, but does Bo?
At your favorite bookstore.
Also in the series:
Manipulation
Redemption
Reunion
Suspicion
Relation
Coming soon: Decision
Other Rocky Ridge Books:
Joshua Hannes, the concierge of the Vivaldi Central Park Hotel prides himself on fulfilling every impossible request. Tickets to a sold-out show? A purple dye job for a purse dog? A last-minute table at a premier hotspot? No problem.
But the penthouse guest wants what?
Self-made billionaire Craig Ridley’s in New York on business, but at the end of the day, he wants to relax w
ith someone interesting. The concierge should be able to supply an entertaining companion. Just for a little conversation. Dinner and a card game, not sex.
Craig didn’t expect the concierge to personally volunteer to be a rental friend, and he really didn’t expect to get attached. How can a paid service ever turn real?
A billion reasons why they shouldn’t be together. A billion and one reasons why they should.
At your favorite bookstore.
The lights go down and stage lights up. The Dark Angels have arrived. With his come-hither voice and body made for sin, lead singer Angel Luv draws lovers like a magnet. And when he caresses and taunts shy guitarist Darius Stone on stage, well…it’s an act, right? But every touch lights a fire, and every flirtatious glance chips away at Dare’s certainty that he’s straight. No one else has so captured his imagination.
Temptation beckons. It’s hard not to notice the want in Dare’s eyes, the way he stares when he thinks Angel’s not watching. One wrong move might scare him away, but a work trip to exotic Bali might be the perfect place to let Dare explore his sexuality, with none to be the wiser. But their “friends with benefits” pact has an expiration date, that just might sour their friendship.
At your favorite bookstore
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
About the author
Other Rocky Ridge Books: