Lucky rubbed his fingers over his bleary eyes and sank down in his usual chair in front of the boss’s desk. One hell of a long ride home, Jimmy chattering nonstop all the way, and an entire day of fitful sleep hadn’t restored his mood.
At least he’d had a relatively good night. Until his phone rang.
And rang. About every five minutes. He loved his family, welcomed the lot of them back into his life with open arms, but damn! Did they really have to know his whereabouts all the time?
“And you’re sure you’re okay?” Walter leaned forward in his chair, resting his clasped hands on the desk.
“I have it on good authority that I’m not any nicer.”
The boss chuckled. “If you were, I’d worry.” The humor fled his face. “I mean it, Lucky. You’ve been through a lot. Despite any animosity between you, you lost a close family member.”
“I’ll spill my guts to my counselor later.” He’d rather talk to Bo. “Is that why you sent for me?”
“That and the need to get things back to normal here. I’ve been missing my two best agents, and I want them back.” Walter stared at something over Lucky’s head. “The Virginia office has been hinting at keeping you both. I needed to put my foot down.”
Put his foot right up their collective asses, more than likely. Nobody messed with Walter’s team.
“Jameson’s latest class ends tomorrow, but I’d like you to drop by the session this morning and allow him to make introductions. After Fourth of July weekend, they’re all yours, though I’ve asked Loretta Johnson to assist.”
“I work alone.”
Walter didn’t have to smile so indulgently. “Of course you do. So much so that I assume you have no interest at all in Agent Schollenberger’s recall to this office.”
Oh crap! Hallelujah! “None at all.” Lucky barely reeled in his excitement. Finally! “Say I was to be interested, any idea when he’ll get back? Just so I can clean my empty coffee cups off his desk. He gets irritated about me taking over the whole cube.”
“I believe he said he’d arrive around six thirty this evening.”
“Boss, I’ll attend the training this morning, but I need the afternoon off. Got something I gotta take care of.”
Walter fought a grin and shuffled the ever-present paper pile on his desk. Oh look! If Lucky twisted his neck the right way, he’d catch a glimpse of the wood beneath.
“As long as you’ve completed your reports, I have no problem with you taking a half day.”
“Um… If you see Bo before I do, tell him you had me run an errand or something.”
Walter raised one of his bushy eyebrows. “Are you planning something that might make me regret covering for you?”
“Nah. I promise.” Lucky nearly skipped out of Walter’s office and down the hallway. Oops. Time to paste on a scowl.
Keith stood by Lisa’s desk. “But it’ll only take about a half hour,” he whined.
Lisa shifted her attention from Keith to Lucky, Please help me! in her eyes.
“Oh, Lisa. Great. I caught you when you weren’t busy.” He gave Keith a pointed stare and grinned his most evil. “Do you like green drugs and spam? Are you an asshole, Keith, my man?”
The color drained from Keith’s face. “You!”
“Yup, me. And interfering with another employee’s work is a write-up offense. But I don’t do write-ups.” Oh, how priceless the fear on Keith’s face. “I prefer to settle things in a boxing ring.”
Keith relaxed his rigid stance and gave away his stupidity with a chuckle. “You’re in no shape to box.”
“But I am.” Johnson flexed on up to the desk, short sleeves straining over her biceps. “And as Agent Harrison’s second-in-command, I’ll happily teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget. Just say when.” She led the relieved-looking receptionist away from the desk. “C’mon, Lisa. Let’s go get some coffee.”
Lucky whistled and swaggered away toward his cube, leaving Keith fuming alone.
Now… Forget Charlotte’s shunning of e-mails. Lucky needed her help, and couldn’t write as fast as she talked. Why write, when she’d write for him?
He pecked out an e-mail. “Hey, woman. Bo’s coming home, and I want to make it special. If you don’t help me, I’ll screw it all up, and Bo won’t speak to either one of us for six months.”
There.
Knowing Bo waited at the end of the day made getting through a roomful of rookies—and Jameson O’Donoghue—more tolerable. Lucky tapped his foot, earning more than one scowl from the trainer.
Screw him. Or rather, no. Lucky counted the minutes until noon. At twelve o’clock he marched to his cube, printed his sister’s reply, and trudged down the hall, shoulders slumped, like he’d noticed zombies do on a late-night TV show.
“Oh, you poor man,” Lisa remarked. “You must be exhausted.”
“I am. Gonna go get some rest.” The moment the elevator doors closed, the dead returned to life. So much to do, so little time.
And worth every minute.
With him and Bo away for the better part of the last week, the chores piled up. Johnson swung by the house to feed the animals, but she drew the line at cleaning up. Lucky stopped by the grocery store, the hardware store, a housewares place, and the post office, to claim a package requiring his signature.
After unpacking his bags at home, he pulled Charlotte’s list out of his pocket. First things first: let the dog and cat into the backyard to keep them out from underfoot. Next, he loaded the washing machine per his sister’s instructions. Why he couldn’t throw whites in with darks he’d never understand. It’d worked so far in his life.
Vacuuming took too much time, him having to stop repeatedly and wriggle free of the cord. Next, he did what he should’ve done months ago and fixed the garage door once and for all by replacing the motor and all parts even remotely suspected of causing grief.
He’d save painting the bedroom ceiling for the weekend. He washed the sheets, remade the bed, and located Bo’s never-ending candle supply.
Unpacking the new dishes they’d been eyeing for a while took some time, as did running them through the dishwasher. Lucky packed the old stuff up for Goodwill.
One hour left. Not enough time to suddenly become an excellent cook. Takeout would have to do. Bo loved eggplant parmesan. He’d get what he loved. Lucky made the call.
Twenty minutes until time to go get dinner, Lucky sat down and opened the mailer he’d signed for.
The picture didn’t compare to the sheer beauty of Bo’s ring. The mountains stood out in dark gray against a lighter background. Inside the ring, Lucky had nearly given in and repeated the words he’d used the first time: “I love you, asshole.” Hey, they’d worked before.
Charlotte never had to know.
In the end, he’d settled for mushy sentiment. “Love always, T-Rex.” The old cheap rings found their way into the Goodwill box.
He picked up dinner and had everything ready when Bo got home.
***
Bo turned around and around in the living room. “Wow! Look at this place. What smells so good?”
“Your favorite.” Without giving him a chance to answer, Lucky cut off any replies the best way possible—mouth to mouth.
Bo came up for air first. “Are you sure you’re Lucky?”
Ouch. But not undeserved. “C’mon. Get cleaned up and eat before dinner gets cold.” He patted Bo’s ass on the way to the kitchen.
“Wow! When did you get the dishes? I’ve been meaning to, but with being up in the Virginia office and all…”
Oh shit. “These were the ones you wanted, right?” Please let Lucky not have screwed up.
“Yeah.” Bo squeezed Lucky’s hand under the dinner table. Wine, candlelight, although the sunlight still pouring in the windows at seven o’clock ruined the effect. May and June had whizzed past in a blur. Time for things to slow down.
All through dinner, Bo kept suspicious eyes trained on Lucky. Who could blame him? Lucky didn’t often go out of his way to please his man.
But tonight wouldn’t be the last time. He even managed to keep his mouth shut and not make innuendo about Bo biting into a baby carrot—a carrot he’d resisted temptation to carve into a penis.
Bo rose and picked up his plate at the end of the meal. “Thanks for an amazing dinner.”
Lucky took the plate from his hand. “Go, sit down. I got this.”
“Are you sure?”
Not really. “Yeah.” Lucky had to rearrange the dishes three times before he could close the dishwasher door. He’d have to get Bo to teach him the correct way to stack dishes. Another time.
Oh! He dashed to the laundry room, removed the clothes from the washer, and put them in the dryer.
Bo sat in the living room, reclined on one end of a couch with his laptop on his knees.
Lucky moved the computer to the coffee table. “Enough with work. You’re home now.” He settled on the floor, removed Bo’s shoes, and rubbed his feet. Oh, how nice to be able to move freely, without his middle threatening to rip open.
Bo moaned. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but what are you up to?”
“Can’t I do nice things for no particular reason?” The ring might be burning a hole in his pocket, but he’d wait until the right moment. No more getting turned down.
“Yes, but it’s a bit out of character for you, isn’t it?”
Not anymore. Lucky stopped his task long enough to click on the stereo with the remote. Soft music filled the room, some band he’d never heard of. He’d found the disk among Bo’s CDs.
Lucky pressed his thumbs against the arch of Bo’s feet, earning another moan. Bo laid his head back and closed his eyes. “I’ll give you an hour to stop that.”
“Can I take a half-hour and then you come with me somewhere?”
Bo snapped his eyes open, one brow raised. “What do you have in mind?”
“You’ll see.”
***
Late night department stores had their uses. Bo and Lucky didn’t run into many other customers on their way to the yard and garden section.
Bo trudged along after Lucky. “What are we looking for again?”
“I’ll know when I find it.”
“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“No!” It couldn’t. No way, no how. This needed doing.
They wound their way around patio furniture, umbrellas… Bo stopped. “This set would look real nice—Ack!”
Lucky dragged Bo by the arm past the furniture. “Later.” After they’d completed their mission.
Finally they arrived at the display he’d sought. Oh shit. Four models to choose from.
“Eenie, meenie, minee, moe,” he muttered under his breath. Metal? Stone? Chimney?
Bo edged closer. “Mind telling what we’re doing here?”
“I think the backyard needs a fire pit, don’t you? Which one do you like? I like that one.” He pointed to the biggest. Bigger had to be better, right?
“Hmmm… while I can’t understand why we have to do this now, I like this one too. Just think, we can sit outside, light a fire…”
“Let’s get it and go.” Choice made. Now to put plans into action. He would have already made arrangements, but he’d learned to let Bo help him pick things out for the house. Yes, he could be taught.
Bo smacked Lucky’s hand and inserted himself between Lucky and the prize. “If you even get a notion about lifting so much weight, I’ll cuff you and haul your ass outta here.” He called a sales clerk over for help.
As long as they didn’t take all night. Next, shopping for accessories, then getting out of the store and loading the truck.
Bo hunched his shoulders and leaned against the loaded Durango. Three young men barely out of high school wrangled their purchase into the vehicle. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t do this tomorrow. What’s so all fired important about tonight?”
“You’ll see.” Fourth of July weekend. Three days of nothing to do.
Yeah, they’d find something to do, all right. Lucky held his hand out for the keys. His mission. He’d do the driving, even though his car’s tiny trunk would have laughed at what he’d bought.
“It’s my SUV. You could let me drive.” Trust Bo to be stubborn.
“Could, yeah. Am I? No.” Bo drove too slow and stopped for yellow lights. Lucky cruised right on through and got them home in five minutes flat. Hey! A new record.
Bo made of show of peeling his fingers away from the dashboard. “Planning a second career as an Indy car driver?”
Oh, the horrors! “Bite your tongue, man. We both know NASCAR is the only race worth watching.” At least in his father’s eyes—the reason he named his kids after NASCAR tracks.
Redneck, through and through.
Bo jumped out of the Durango before Lucky and beat him to the back of the vehicle. “Let me get this. You’re not supposed to lift anything heavy.”
“You can’t carry it alone.” One man couldn’t lift the damned thing by himself, let alone lug the monstrosity to the backyard. Of course, they could try tying the box to Moose and using him for a pack animal.
“Y’all need some help?”
Lucky jumped. How did the guy from next door always know when they needed something? First thing tomorrow, he’d check the yard for cameras.
Bo gave Lucky a triumphant grin and turned toward the neighbor. “Please, if you don’t mind. Lucky here had surgery recently and can’t lift. Can you help me get this out of the truck?”
Recently? A month and a half. Ancient history.
Lucky tuned out the introductions beyond, “I don’t think I’ve ever properly introduced myself. I’m Stanley Taylor.” Like the guy had to say so. Lucky’d taken his name off the mailbox and planned to run a full background check the moment he found time.
His ears perked when Stanley invited them over for dinner and Bo promised to take him up on the offer. Meet the neighbors? Go into their house? Eat with them?
Bo probably needed two years more therapy after meeting the Lucklighters.
Lucky didn’t exactly run the man off the moment they’d finished their task.
Bo elbowed him all the same. “He’s our neighbor, being neighborly, did you have to scowl at him?”
“I wasn’t scowling.” Actually, he’d been going for more of a glare. Glares got folks’ feet moving quick most times.
Bo stared at Lucky’s gotta-have-it-now fire pit, hands on his hips. “Anyway, it’s here, it’s in the ground, what now?”
“Now we start a fire.” Oh, yeah. Lucky planned to do some burning.
“Now?”
“Got something better to do?”
“A few things, actually.” Bo swayed and ran his hands up and down his body, stripper style.
Oh, hell. Lucky’s cock took notice. “Later.”
Bo’s mouth dropped open. “Later! Later, he says. I’m offering sex, and he says later.”
Lucky hoped his gaze pierced Bo’s soul, like Bo’s so often pierced Lucky’s. He nodded. “Oh yeah.”
Bo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh. Alrighty, then. Let’s get this fire started.”
Using fallen twigs and branches gleaned from the backyard, Lucky fanned the flames of a cheery blaze five minutes later.
“Now.” He looked Bo straight in the eyes. “I want every single damned condom out here in this pit. Now!”
Bo froze. And then grinned. “Yes, sir!” He darted through the backyard and up the steps, doing a gazelle-worthy leap over their couch-sized dog.
He returned a few moments later and skidded to a halt a few feet from Lucky. “You wanna do the honors, or you want me to?”
“I don’t care, as long as those suckers burn.” And the sooner the better. No more condoms for Lucky ever again.
Bo tossed in a handful. Then a whole unopened box.
Ah, what a pretty sight, the hints of color the rubbers added to the flames. Smelled like hell, but still pretty. Lucky stood watching the flames destroy them, arm around Bo’s waist. “You get them all?”
“I think so.”
“Bathroom? Bedside table?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Your wallet, the couch cushions, the glovebox? The Harley’s saddlebags?”
“Oh. Be right back.” Bo took off like a shot, Moose chasing behind him. Damn if the mutt’s barking didn’t sound like laughter.
“What ‘cha doin’ over there?” the neighbor called from his side of their shared fence.
Oh shit. One introduction and now they’d never get rid of the guy. “I could tell you, but trust me, it’d be too much information.” There. Let him chew on that.
Bo came back and dug packets out of all his pockets. How many condoms did they own?
As long as the answer from here on out was none, who cared?
Bo dragged two lounge chairs up near the fire. They sat in the chairs, holding hands, watching the flames getting smaller and smaller.
“Happy now?” Bo brought their joined hands up to his mouth and kissed Lucky’s knuckles.
“Not there yet, but close.”
Bo’s eyes shone by the light of the dying embers and the security light Lucky installed before they moved in. Nice out here this time of evening. He’d take Bo back to the store and grin and nod while he picked out some patio furniture.
Later.
Bo forced his tongue between two of Lucky’s fingers.
Much later.
If he’d been made a bit taller, a bit stockier—with longer arms—he’d have Bo over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and hauling ass for the bedroom. Hell, he could get Bo over his shoulder, but Bo’s height meant he’d drag.
But then someone had to go and whack a hole in Lucky’s side, putting his dragging men days on hold for a while. Racing wasn’t happening. Lucky settled for a fast shuffle.
Bo paused long enough to put out the fire and still beat Lucky into the house and got bathwater running. Lucky let Moose and Cat Lucky in, fed them, and locked up for the night.
A hot bath and a little one-on-one time… Lucky ambled down the hall and strode into the bedroom, a single thing on his mind.
Bo met him at the bathroom door.
Suddenly the candles he’d laid out and scented oils he’d bought to give Bo a massage fell down on Lucky’s priority list.
Bo said, “I’m glad you’re feeling bet—”
Lucky body-slammed his lover against the nearest wall and proceeded to squeeze any air out from between their bodies.
Breathing. Highly overrated.
Lucky sealed his mouth to Bo’s, cutting off his protest by deepening the kiss. No doctor’s orders, no worries about “Is it too soon?” or anything else would stop him or even slow him down. Hands up the front of Bo’s shirt, Lucky ran his fingers through a light covering of chest hair and swallowed Bo’s gasp of surprise.
Carefully, so as not to make Bo feel trapped or restrained, he raised their hands over his head, skimmed his fingers down Bo’s arms, and broke the kiss long enough to yank Bo’s shirt up and off. The heat in Bo’s eyes might melt him, but what a way to go.
Bo got with the program, returning the favor, shirt-wise. They both toed off their shoes. Hands. Everywhere at once. Removing jeans, palming a butt cheek, running up firm abs, or in Lucky’s case, Bo running a gentle finger near Lucky’s scar, not getting too close.
Lucky turned Bo around to stand spread-eagled. Damn, but he looked good against a wall. Lucky rose on his toes, softly biting the spot where shoulder and neck came together. Bo moaned. One of many lustful sounds he’d make tonight.
Working his way down Bo’s back, kneading, licking, biting, sucking, Lucky reacquainted himself with the hottest man he’d ever met. Bo’s running showed in his muscles, firm and cut enough to stand out, stopping short of being bulky.
Lucky kissed every freckle and ended up on his knees, fondling the wonderful fullness of Bo’s glutes, biting, stroking. He reached lower to play with Bo’s balls and ran a hand upward. Oh yeah. Fully hard.
His probing finger met little resistance and a whole lot of ready to go. Must’ve been the fastest prep in history. Lucky groaned, resting his head on Bo’s ass. Bo. Ready. Now. Maybe he’d missed their loving as much as Lucky had.
Bo bucked back, rocking Lucky’s head, jarring him from his fight for control.
Lucky rose, rubbing his hand where he’d rested his head. Bo spread his legs wider, bringing him down to the perfect height.
Lucky positioned himself and slid inside, imagining Bo’s preparations. Lube. The toy from the bedside drawer. Oh, man. And he hadn’t gotten to watch.
But this beat any toy: slick, hot, home. Bo pushed back, establishing a rhythm. No barriers between them now or ever again. Lucky kissed Bo’s back, sliding in and out, reaching around to work Bo’s cock to the rhythm of their thrusts.
Nothing existed but the two of them, the scent of Bo and sex, their breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh. But no. Too hard. Too fast.
Withdrawing nearly killed him.
“Wha…” Bo glanced back over his shoulder.
Lucky turned Bo and locked their lips together for a slow shuffle across the floor, the closest thing to dancing they’d done in a while. Dancing. Give him a few weeks, and he’d take Bo out dancing. To dinner. Whatever the man wanted.
But for now, he guided them both across the floor to their bed.
Their bed. Their home. Their lives.
And nothing to fear after all. How had he lived before Bo?
Bo shoved Lucky backward on the bed. Forceful, huh? Oh, hell yeah! Lucky lay back, hypnotized by the play of light over Bo’s muscles while Bo settled himself on top, closed his eyes, and let out a breathy sigh when he slid down Lucky’s cock.
Bo splayed his hands on Lucky’s chest, rising and falling, his gaze fused to Lucky’s. He stopped and bent to join their mouths and tongues.
Palming whatever parts he got his hands on, Lucky urged the action on, thrusting upward to meet Bo’s coming down. Hot, sweaty, man on man. Grunts, groans, and bed squeaks all became the sweetest music.
Every stroke, every so-damned-good-it-nearly-hurt stroke, brought Lucky closer and closer. To climax, to Bo, to shattering into a million pieces.
Those pieces would come back together as a better man.
Bo bent for another kiss, stoking his cock, his movements jerky and erratic.
Lucky grabbed Bo’s ass and held on through the tremors, releasing his hold on his own control. Together they rocked through the earthquake, clinging to each other.
Bo collapsed beside him, pure joy bursting out of him on a laugh.
Running a lazy hand down Bo’s side, Lucky put all other thoughts out of his mind. He’d live in the moment.
In the distance, his phone rang. Too comfortable to move, he remained still, catching his breath, Bo’s come cooling on his belly.
When their breathing slowed, they shifted enough for him to place his head on Bo’s chest, taking comfort in Bo’s throbbing heartbeat. Why had he ever been afraid of commitment? Of loving the best thing to ever happen to him? Like hell would he ever let go.
Forever. He wanted forever. The rings lay in his pocket on the floor. Getting up to find them took energy. He’d get them later.
“Bo, would you—”
Bo’s soft snores ended the moment.
Later. He’d ask again later.
He lay for a moment, trailing his fingers over Bo’s chest. Where was the splashing noise coming from?
Oh, dear God!
Lucky shot out of the bed, tripped over Cat Lucky, and crawled into the bathroom on his knees in time to witness a white, furry butt disappear over the rim of the tub. Water sloshed onto the floor.
“Moose!” Lucky lunged for the running faucet. Ow! Had to remember not to stretch too far.
Moose, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, lunged too, splashing more water and chasing Lucky’s hand.
Ewww… Wet dog. Huge mess.
Not the way the night should’ve ended.
But it ended with Bo in Lucky’s bed, their shared roof over their heads, Lucky’s family calling every five minutes simply to say hello, and all right in the world.
Not a bad deal.
He checked his phone:
Richie, me and the boys are coming down, since it’s a long weekend and Daddy’s doing fine. You’ll be home, right?
Yup. All right in the world.