The warning buzz from the front gate gave Lucky a few minutes to try to compose himself.
“Breathe, Lucky, breathe.” Bo patted his back. “She’s your sister, not an Uzi-welding crime boss.”
“Uh-huh.” Of the two, Charlotte might be the deadlier.
“It’s not like she’s one of Nestor’s people, come to take you out.”
“No. She’d eat those wannabes for breakfast. You haven’t met my family.” And Lucky wouldn’t blame him for running once he had.
“What are you expecting her to do? Kill you?”
“You don’t know her like I do. She can get riled sometimes.” Lucky shivered at a particularly vivid memory, involving a well-placed bucket of hog slop and a vengeful sibling.
“Don’t I know it! She… Oh, dear God! She pulled a gun on me. She’s vicious. Let’s hide!” Bo patted his foot, scowl firmly in place.
“You’re making fun of me.”
Bo’s scowl softened. “Sorry. But for years I’ve heard how much you miss her. And I’ve never quite gotten why you wouldn’t even talk to her.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I made promises I didn’t keep. I’m a bad example for her kids. I’m not the kind of guy anyone in their right mind would want for a brother.” There, he’d confessed—and got a mock punch to the shoulder for his efforts. “What’ya do that for?”
“In the tunnel in Mexico we promised once all the shit passed, we’d reconnect with our families. Have we? Huh?”
God, did Bo always have to be right? “I told you you wouldn’t understand.”
“The hell I don’t. Why do you think I haven’t laid eyes on my brother in years? Huh?”
“If you feel the same way about your brother, why’re you being so hard on me?” Lucky rubbed his shoulder.
“Because you need to tell me these things. How are we supposed to work out issues if we don’t communicate?” And there Bo went being right again.
“You coulda told me, you know.” Lucky glowered.
Bo blew out a sigh. “Yeah. Maybe—”
They both froze at the sound of the doorbell.
“Aren’t you going to get the door?” Bo whispered.
“I thought you were.” For some reason, Lucky’s feet wouldn’t do his bidding.
The doorbell rang again. Neither moved. The knob twisted. Lucky held his breath. Hundreds of drug busts, hundreds of times facing drugs dealers and other dangerous types, and his heart had never pounded harder at what he’d soon face.
The door creaked open. A woman who looked too much like Lucky’s mother stood in the doorway clutching her handbag like a weapon. “Oh! Hey, y’all!”
Older, maybe, her smile more hesitant. She’d filled out since being the scrawny runt of a girl who used to dog Lucky’s footsteps and run when he’d chased her with frogs—only to find a bigger frog and chase back.
After he got into bed with a four-foot blacksnake, Lucky checked the sheets for years.
“Richmond Eugene Lucklighter. Are ya just gonna stand there looking purty, or are you gonna invite me in?”
Still as sassy as a jaybird.
Bo unfroze first. “I’m so sorry. Charlotte, it’s wonderful to see you again. Please, come in.” He glowered at Lucky. Yeah, right. Like she hadn’t threatened to shoot Bo the last time they came face to face.
One step, two… Lucky grabbed his sister, burying his damp face in her hair, and held on for dear life. Oh God. Charlotte. He squeezed tighter lest she suddenly disappear.
The scent of familiar perfume surrounded him, a gift he’d sent her one Christmas.
Charlotte, his best friend growing up, his partner in misadventures, and one of the few people to ever best him in a wrestling match.
She’d learned to fight dirty while still in grade school.
“Ack! Rich! Let’s go! You’re choking me!” Charlotte wrenched away from his grasp and stared him in the eyes.
She grabbed him back. Her purse connected with his kidney. Ow! “Oh, dear God, Richie. I’ve missed you so much!”
Lucky held on tight, opening his eyes to watch Bo quietly retreating. He opened his mouth to tell Bo to stay, but the pizza delivery guy buzzed from the gate and gave him an excuse to back off.
The pizza guy came and went, and still Lucky and Charlotte clung to each other, like she’d once clung to him as a child after a nightmare.
In the background, Bo clanked dishes as he set the kitchen table. Once they finally broke apart, Lucky and Charlotte both scrubbed their faces with the backs of their hands. Bo traipsed out of the kitchen and handed them each a paper towel, but said nothing about their tears.
At least Lucky’s hadn’t formed black streaks down his face like Charlotte’s.
“Pizza’s getting cold.” Bo vanished into the kitchen.
“Hungry?” Lucky asked between sniffles. The lovely aroma of pizza managed to get through his stuffed-up nose.
“I could eat.” Charlotte wiped her eyes, tossed her suspiciously heavy pocketbook onto the couch, and let out a whistle. “Day-um, boy! Nice house. You done good for yourself. I want a tour later.”
“Okay. Let’s eat first.” That would buy Lucky time to pull himself together. Charlotte. Here. Now.
Suddenly not talking to her all those years except for texts and e-mails seemed like a dumb idea. Who’d come up with such nonsense anyway? Oh. He had.
“So, how’ve you—” Lame, lame, lame. First time face to face in years and nothing better came to Lucky’s mind?
“I got so much to tell—”
They stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared at each other. No telling who started first, but laughter burst from them both.
In a moment of déjà vu from days gone by, Charlotte smacked Lucky on the back of the head. “That’s for not talking to me for all these years!”
What could he say? Talking to her made things too real, brought down the ton of guilt he’d earned for being a jerk, an asshole, and getting himself locked up so he couldn’t watch over her anymore.
And her boys grew up without Uncle Richie. “I deserved that.”
Bo piped in from the table. “If you don’t sit down and eat, I’ll smack you too.”
Charlotte winked. “Better do what the man says and sit your ass down. I like him. He’s feisty.”
Lucky started to sit next to Bo, but he stopped himself and took the opposite chair at the four-topper table.
Charlotte smacked him again. “If that’s where you usually sit, then sit. It’s not like I don’t know y’all are together.” She grabbed the chair from Lucky and parked herself in front of Bo. Stubborn woman.
Wow! Bo had gone all out, even serving the pizza from a plate and not the cardboard box as Lucky would have. He’d ordered one veggie, one meat. Bacon! Lucky might have to kiss the smug little smirk off Bo’s face when his sister wasn’t looking.
“Lucky, since y’all invited me to stay the night, I reckon you better loosen up a bit. Go on. Kiss Bo if you want to. Matter of fact, if you don’t, I might. Pizza!” Charlotte yanked a piece of meat pizza onto her plate.
Spend the night? Lucky glared at Bo. Bo had the good graces to blush. Not that Lucky minded her staying, but Bo could’ve said something—and allowed Lucky even more time to worry his ass off. He eyeballed his pizza-munching sister. “Dang, woman! Don’t they have pizza in Spokane?”
“Yup,” she managed between bites, “but I try to fix the boys healthy meals. Gives them more incentive to move out when they’re eighteen.”
Liar. She’d be torn to pieces when her boys left home. Lucky wouldn’t put it past her to finally go to college like she’d been planning for years in order to keep an eye on her kids.
“How was the drive down?” Leave it to Bo to swallow down enough nerves to play host.
“Southern drivers ain’t got no better since I moved away.” She grinned. “I had to flip off a couple hundred, I reckon.”
“Where are the boys?” Charlotte’s arrival should come equipped with two nephews for Uncle Richie to get reacquainted with.
“They’re staying with a friend while I go tend the folks. They’ll be joining me when the school year ends.” She paused, took a sip of iced tea, closed her eyes, and smiled. “Now this is something I’ve missed living in Washington. Sweet tea. Bo, this is really good.”
Lucky mock-glowered. “How do you know I didn’t make the tea?”
She swallowed her mouthful. “Um… because I’ve met you? If it weren’t for Bo, you’d probably have bought a house without a kitchen, if you could find one.”
True. Lucky sipped his tea. At least she still appreciated the Southern nectar of the gods after being away so long. He had millions of questions he wanted to ask, but they’d been raised not to talk business, or talk much at all, at the table. With four other kids to compete with, the slowest eater might not get seconds.
They polished off the last crust and Charlotte rose first. “Y’all bought dinner, I’ll clean up.”
Maybe Lucky wasn’t the only one who needed a few moments to get his act together. Of course, she might run screaming for soap and water if she got a load of the mess she’d made of her makeup.
Bo stood and picked up his plate.
“I said, ‘shoo!’” Charlotte flipped a hand in the general direction of the living room. “Go talk about me before I get in there and you have to hush.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bo put the plate back on the table.
Charlotte slapped a hand to her chest. “Be still my beating heart. A Southern gentleman. Richie, you got a well-trained one there. You better be good to him or I’ll haul him back up north with me. Folks would buy him drinks all night to hear him talk.”
Funny, she’d spent years in the Northwest, but if anything, her Southern accent had only grown thicker. But then again, he’d not heard her in years.
And whose fault is that? echoed in his head—in Charlotte’s voice.
The moment he stepped into the living room, Lucky grabbed Bo as hard as he’d grabbed his sister earlier. Right now, without an anchor, he’d surely fall.
“Shh… It’s okay.” Bo held him, rocking a bit.
Lucky sobbed, tears soaking Bo’s T-shirt. Family. He’d lost his family. And no matter how hard he pretended otherwise, they’d left a big, unhealed hole in his heart.
Charlotte alone stood by him. Had always been there. Had even come to his trial and heard him get a ten-year sentence. And cried.
Like she’d cried tonight. Sooner or later, he’d have to stop causing the woman tears. Bo pulled him down onto the couch and held him till his heart stopped breaking.
His fault. His own damned fault.
When Charlotte bustled out of the kitchen a few moments later, the red nose and additional mascara streaks down her cheeks said she’d spent her time the same way Lucky had.
Sniff. “How about the tour now?” She wiped her hand across her face but only smeared her makeup even more.
Yeah. Stay busy. Best thing to do to keep from thinking and regretting too hard.
She turned around in the living room, sauntered over to the backdoor, and screamed. A wall of white hit the glass. The scream turned into a giggle. “Richie, your horse wants in.” She squatted down by the door, tapping the glass and cooing at Moose. “You raising goats now, or what?”
“Found him at the pound. Couldn’t leave him behind.” Not when Moose wriggled his way into Lucky’s heart, reminding him of the Great Pyrenees he’d grown up with as herd dogs for the family’s goats.
Charlotte shot him a “who are you and what have you done with my brother” look. “Can we let him in?”
“Not if you want to stay upright. He’s a bit of a handful right now.” The drool pit of doom whined through the glass, turning adoring eyes on Lucky.
“A handful. Ha! Takes after you then, don’t he?” After a bit of circling, and stopping by the bookcase to admire Bo’s dragon statue collection, Charlotte marched to the hall and waited.
Bo took the hint and shot to his feet. “The bedrooms and bathrooms are back this way. Here’s your room.” He opened the door to the guest bedroom, furnished with Rett’s hand-me-down air mattress and a half dozen boxes waiting to be unpacked. “We’re still moving in.”
Charlotte flipped on the light switch. “This is nice. And bigger than my bedroom back home.”
“The bathroom’s this way.” Bo strolled off down the hall.
Their voices faded. Oh crap. Getting quiet must mean they’d started talking about him. Lucky dashed down the hall and into his and Bo’s bedroom, too late to stop Charlotte from opening the door to the room he and Bo didn’t speak about.
“What a cute nursery!” Charlotte winked at Lucky. “When y’all planning on using it?”
Lucky turned to stare at Bo, who stared back with the same dumbfounded, wide-eyed silence.
Charlotte’s smile fell. “Oops, hit a nerve there, did I? Sorry. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here prying my foot out of my mouth.”
Lucky opened the bathroom door, getting a chance to change the subject. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do on the house, but this room’s pretty much finished.”
“Lordy, what a bathroom.” Charlotte poked her head into the walk-in closet. “I got closet envy like all get out.”
Her mouth dropped open again in the garage while circling the Harley. “When’d you get a bike?” She managed to hike her leg high enough to hop onto the seat, and sat gripping the handlebars. “Wroom! Wroom!”
Again Lucky exchanged looks with Bo. How much should they tell?
Bo saved Lucky from lying. “I went undercover in a biker gang, and got a sweet deal when the case ended.”
What a relief. Lucky had never been able to lie to his sister—she knew him too well. And Bo hadn’t outright lied. Having a former drug lord hand over the keys to one hell of a ride counted as a sweet deal, didn’t it?
But one day soon, the “drug lord” might call in the favor.
Damn. Lucky might still have reasons to keep Charlotte and her boys at a distance.