Decision (Diversion Book 8)

by Eden Winters

  “Something on your mind?” Bo’s husky murmur did things no human voice should be able to do: arouse Lucky’s libido while calming his mind. The arms around him didn’t hurt either.

  The old him would’ve kept family matters private, only, Bo was his family. Keeping secrets from him? Terrible idea, and likely impossible. Too smart for his own good. “Ty brought home something he thinks is Adderall or similar, but with no markings on the pills. I confronted him.”

  “Oh my God. Where did he get them?” Bo spun Lucky around.

  Lucky gripped Bo’s shoulder to steady himself. How did such a slender body hide this much power? “From school. Says all the kids do ‘em.”

  Bo hmmm’d and brought Lucky to his chest. “It’s been an ongoing problem for a while. There are articles online that instruct kids on what to say at the doctor’s office to be diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and get their own prescription.” He shrugged, the motion rocking Lucky. “Some they take, some they sell. But Ty? He’s too intelligent to fall for this kind of shit, isn’t he?”

  Lucky wouldn’t have been. Nope, in his day he’d smoked rabbit tobacco, stolen his uncle’s moonshine, and many other stupid things at the merest suggestion. Hell, he’d even downed a nightly tonic of orange juice and chloral hydrate to get a good night’s sleep once upon a time, served up by his lover, not a doctor. He’d wised up since then. “These don’t have a stamp. I don’t think they’re real. I’m going to have them tested.”

  “Did he tell you who he got them from?”

  “No. He only recently started talking to me without growling, and now this.” Lucky shook his head. Life got too damned complicated sometimes. “Suddenly, I’m the enemy again.” At Ty’s age, anyone who hadn’t agreed with Lucky or was past thirty had been the enemy.

  Bo snuggled up tighter against Lucky. “You’re too close to the situation. Let me talk to Walter. I’ll assign someone else to investigate, leaving Ty’s name out of this.”

  I’ll. Ah, hell. The truth hit Lucky in the face. Again. Bo would soon be running the department. The boss.

  Lucky stepped back. Withdrawing from Bo’s comfort took a big fucking effort, but he needed to stand his ground now and establish a pattern of not being pushed to the side, work-wise. “Why not me? He’s my nephew. It’s my problem.”

  Bo took a step forward, hands raised, yet stopped and lowered his arms. Lucky’s “back the fuck off” vibes must’ve been worse than he thought. “Like I said, you’re too close. And your problems are our problems. I consider him my nephew too. Also, you’re a trainer now, and you’ve got enough rookies to keep you busy. We’ll investigate this. That way, Ty can’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. Have you told Charlotte?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t know what to say. She’s just moved, is looking for a job, taking online classes, and stressing over the pregnancy thing.” Or lack thereof. Not to mention the screwed up Lucklighter clan and her oldest son leaving for college. Probably better she’d left the house for a while this evening. Maybe she’d make a lot of friends and actually like Atlanta. God, Lucky hoped so. He’d hate to have her living far away again. “I didn’t want to put any more on her shoulders without facts.”

  Something occurred to Lucky. “The other day when I went running, Ty joined me. He didn’t say much, something about his coach wanting him to build stamina. Reckon he wanted to tell me then and chickened out?”

  “Maybe.” Bo took advantage of Lucky’s lowered voice and came closer, rubbing his hands up and down Lucky’s back, muscles bunched for a quick retreat, if needed. Yes, he’d learned. But him knowing Lucky so well meant he also knew Lucky wouldn’t put up much effort to pull away. “Whatever you do, don’t accuse him. Keep him talking. Let him know he can tell you anything. And Lucky?”

  “Yeah?”

  Bo brushed a kiss over Lucky’s forehead, for Lucky, a reminder of their difference in height—and possibly their positions at work. He’d recognized Bo as upwardly mobile the moment they’d met. That he’d been right shouldn’t come as a surprise.

  “We’ve got this. Just like we’ve got everything else in our lives. Nothing can happen that we can’t handle. Got that?” Bo gave Lucky a gentle shake for emphasis.

  Easier said than done.

  “Oh. One more thing.” Bo drew back until their gazes met, though in the near darkness the rich color of Bo’s eyes remained hidden.

  Oh shit. One more thing almost always came before bad news. “What?”

  “If you can’t sleep because you’re worried about something, you’re supposed to wake me up.”

  “But you need sleep.” If Bo only knew how many times Lucky came out here on the deck to keep from waking the others while he let life in general eat at him.

  “And you don’t? You should know by now not to try to handle every damned problem by yourself. We don’t work like that.” Bo planted another kiss on Lucky’s forehead and retreated to the door. “Now, c’mon. We still have a few hours before we have to get up.”

  He took Lucky’s hand, tiptoeing past Charlotte’s and Ty’s rooms and into their own bedroom. A street light shone through the blinds, creating a pattern of stripes on the bed.

  Bo stripped off the sweatpants he’d taken to wearing at night if venturing from their room, while Lucky stepped out of yesterday’s jeans he’d found discarded on the floor.

  They’d lived together over a year and Bo still hadn’t managed to get Lucky to use a hamper. But hey, if he’d used the hamper, his worn jeans wouldn’t have been where he needed them.

  Bo and Lucky both lifted the covers and got in their own side of the bed, only to meet in the middle, lying on their backs.

  Meeting in the middle. A fitting statement about their relationship. Sometimes one had to cross the centerline and bring the other back, but sooner or later they’d always wind up on common ground.

  As if with a mind of its own, Lucky’s hand sought out Bo’s and entwined their fingers.

  “Things are changing fast, aren’t they?” Bo murmured, rolling to face Lucky.

  New house, living together, family moving in, trying for a child, promotions at work… yes, things were definitely changing at light speed. “Yeah.”

  “There’s one thing that hasn’t changed, that I hope never changes.” Bo propped his head on his hand, elbow on the bed, and removed his other hand from Lucky’s grasp to cup the side of Lucky’s face. He bent and joined their lips. “I love you. No matter what we go through, whatever happens, waking up at night to find you lying next to me makes it all worthwhile.”

  He kissed Lucky again, deeper this time. Lucky let out a moan, opening his mouth and joining their tongues. In a flash Bo lay atop him, mouths still connected in a sensual dance of tongues, Bo holding his weight on his arms.

  Which served to put their groins wonderfully close together. And this late? Or rather, this early? No one up but them. Thank heavens the dog and cat found other beds to sleep in, leaving Bo and Lucky free to do as they pleased without eyes on them and a critter threatening harm if they didn’t go back to sleep and let the cat rest.

  Bo ended the kiss. One side of his mouth crept up, but not enough to expose The Dimple. The warmth in his eyes, unhidden by darkness, made Lucky’s chest ache. No matter what he’d done in his life, no matter where he’d been, Bo saw past his mistakes to… Well, something. Something Lucky might never understand. But whatever Bo saw when he looked at Lucky, Lucky would always be grateful.

  Bo swept his hands down the fur on Lucky’s chest, the band on the third finger of his left hand glinting in the weak light. His. Bo wore the ring Lucky had bought him, a symbol of them together, for all the world to see.

  Bo squirmed, as though the view alone wasn’t enough to get Lucky’s full attention.

  Lucky wrapped his legs around Bo’s thighs and rolled, pinning his man under him. His semi-erection thickened closer to full hardness.

  The smile on Bo’s face could’ve melted the hardest of hearts�
��but didn’t wilt Lucky’s stiffie one iota.

  Spreading Bo’s legs with his knees, Lucky sank between them, right where he wanted to be. He peppered kisses across Bo’s shoulders and chest, pausing his downward journey to flick his tongue across Bo’s nipples, first one, then the other. Ghostly hints of Bo’s cologne clung to his skin.

  A groan rewarded Lucky’s efforts. Down, down, down, he journeyed, kissing, licking and lipping warm skin. Bo giggled and jerked when Lucky reached a ticklish spot, but moaned and sank his fingers into Lucky’s hair when Lucky opened wide and took Bo’s length into his mouth.

  “Oh, damn, that feels good,” came out of Bo’s mouth, a bit breathy.

  “Hmmm…” Lucky hummed his agreement. The feel of Bo’s cock in his mouth, the scent, knowing the right pressure, right speed, and what pushed Bo’s buttons—how powerful. Lucky played Bo’s body, listening for the telltale cry when he swiped his tongue over Bo’s slit, the whimper when Lucky slid down the shaft, all signs of making his man happy.

  And he would make his man happy, no matter what.

  He stuck a finger into his mouth along with Bo’s cock, slicking the digit, and reached down to Bo’s hole.

  “Ah, ah!” Bo whimpered, pushing back against Lucky’s fingertip. Almost in a daze Lucky heard the nightstand open, Bo shifting to get at the drawer. A moment later Bo nudged Lucky’s shoulder with a tube of lube.

  Yep, Lucky definitely got the hint. He gave Bo’s cock a final lick and rose up onto his knees. He slicked up his cock, worked lube into Bo’s hole, lined up, and pushed in a mere fraction.

  Bo froze and sucked in a breath, relaxing after a moment’s strain.

  “You okay?” Lucky stared down at the easing tension on Bo’s face.

  “Uh-huh.” Bo canted his hips upwards to prove his point, taking Lucky in more deeply.

  With shallow thrusts and withdrawals Lucky worked himself into his lover’s body. Oh, damn. Yeah.

  Now why had he been awake at this hour?

  Didn’t matter now, with Bo’s hands on his ass, urging him faster. He lost himself in the tight heat around him, the scent of Bo in his nostrils, the smooth skin where he gripped Bo’s shoulders.

  Bo wrapped muscular legs around him.

  Lucky plunged into Bo, pulled out, and plunged in again. Had anything in the history of everything ever felt this good? This right?

  Bo curled upward, cupping the back of Lucky’s head and bringing him down, joining their mouths as assuredly as their bodies. Taking himself in hand, Bo set up a frantic beat, tugging on his cock.

  So good, so damned good, so… so… Lucky snapped his hips, the bunching of Bo’s muscles sending a message. Close, so close.

  “Oh, fuck!” Bo’s entire body seized and he jerked, his channel tightening nearly painfully around Lucky’s cock.

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Bo still flexed around him when Lucky let go, filling Bo’s body with his cum.

  Lucky panted, staring down. He’d never get tired of a sex-rumpled Bo. Or any kind of Bo.

  All too soon his cock softened and he slipped out, flopping beside Bo and settling into his arms, the evidence of Bo’s passion spattered on their stomachs.

  “That one was just for us,” Bo said, planting a kiss on Lucky’s forehead.

  Because, yes, in all the whirlwind of family, friends, job, rookies, and everything else tugging at their time, every now and then, they needed to simply be “us.”

  Worked for Lucky.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucky leaned back in the chair from hell as far as he dared and stared at the report he’d called in a few favors to get so fast. The lab folks initially grumbled and griped until he mentioned, “Walter wants this ASAP.” Not a total lie. Walter would light a fire under their asses if Lucky made him aware of the situation. Which he wouldn’t.

  For now.

  In a year or two, dropping Bo’s name might get the same effect. Hopefully. Well, yeah. Bo, being Bo, he’d charm the lab rats into doing whatever he wanted.

  Like get Lucky quick test results on field samples.

  Although the exact makeup of most branded pharmaceuticals fell under proprietary information, by law, product inserts and labels provided ingredient lists. Ty’s pills contained many of the same components of the favored ADHD medication, but a few not even found in generic formulas.

  Nothing overly dangerous, so far, but the active ingredient in Ty’s pill far outstripped the brand name. Taking random doses without doctor supervision produced erratic results. Lucky knew teenagers. If they got hold of a low-potency lot, they’d start doubling up on dosage. The next lot being stronger had the potential to cause an overdose.

  Amazing he himself survived to adulthood. He’d done some pretty stupid shit.

  Lucky searched the known databases for reports of such overdose cases, and found nothing. Didn’t prove anything. If a kid lied about taking meds and the doctors felt no need for a drug test, overdose symptoms might be misdiagnosed as any number of ailments.

  He straightened the glasses he’d never let anyone see him wearing and kept looking.

  ***

  An unfamiliar car sat in his driveway when Lucky pulled up. Oh shit. What now? Was it too much to hope Ty invited a friend over?

  A rich friend? Whose parents trusted him with a late model Corvette? At least Salters drove a Nissan, ruling him out.

  Maybe one of Charlotte’s new friends from her craft meetup.

  He eased the door open, hand inside his computer bag on his gun. Of course, if whoever the car belonged to meant no good, Charlotte likely had ‘em hog-tied and duct taped before they’d made their way past the living room.

  Charlotte sat in the reclining chair, giving the guy on the couch one hell of a lot of side-eye.

  The man in question laid on the charm, slicked back hair forming dark waves, and bright smile lighting up his handsome face.

  A wasted effort on Charlotte, who’d learned at an early age that “good-looking” and “avoid at all costs” often traveled hand in hand.

  Smart woman.

  Quills on a porcupine, rattles on a snake, a good-looking man not afraid to use his charms to his advantage. Yep, how nature said, “Do not touch.”

  Granted, this particular man would have been hard for many to resist, skin the shade Charlotte used to spend hours in the sun to achieve, wiry build, and blinding smile.

  For all his good looks and flirting skills, Lucky wasn’t buying what the man sold either, with Mangiardi blood flowing in his veins. “What do you want?” He scowled at Cruz, the might-be-an-agent who’d saved Bo, helped Lucky out a time or two, but who still hadn’t earned Lucky’s trust.

  Not fully.

  Hermano, Cruz had called him, “brother.” Yeah, Bristol had been his brother too, and see how their relationship turned out.

  Still, a niggling of guilt hit the pit of Lucky’s stomach. He’d never told Cruz thanks. Had he? Oh well. Too late now.

  “Mi amigo!” Cruz grinned. “Is that any way to greet a trusted friend?”

  Lucky withdrew his hand from his backpack and placed the bag on the floor. Shooting Cruz would only piss off Nestor.

  Not that Lucky had much reason to take aim at Cruz, but he’d had one too many shots of Cruz’s gringo-baiting during his time in Mexico. “What. Do. You. Want,” Lucky ground out from between clenched teeth. Owing the guy didn’t exempt him from being an insufferable pain in Lucky’s ass.

  “Nothing. Since when do I need a reason to drop by and visit my favorite fighting rooster?” Cruz’s bleached white smile ought to come with an imminent blindness warning. He cut his eyes sharply to the left, away from Charlotte. “I just happened to be in the area.”

  Oh. “Charlotte, I see you’ve met Cruz. He helped me and Bo out in Mexico.” Lucky hadn’t told her all the details of the case from hell, but enough for her to know he and Bo tried to put the whole incident out of their minds.

  “Really?” She dropped the hot coal of hostility and flashed a t
entative smile of her own. “In that case, it’s nice to meet you, Cruz.” She slid her hand out from under the chair cushion, leaving one side hiked up enough to conceal a gun.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Senorita Lucklighter.” Cruz reached for her fingers, likely ready to kiss her hand.

  She yanked her hand back, cradling her fingers against her chest.

  Time to step in before the situation escalated. “Uh, Charlotte. Can I have a few minutes alone with my friend here?”

  “Sure. I’ll take Moose for a walk.” She disappeared into her room and returned with a jacket. A light jacket. Spokane still got the occasional flurry, likely making Georgia downright balmy in comparison. The moment she grabbed the leash from the front closet, the dog who’d ignored a stranger in the house, and who’d been performing a darned good imitation of a throw rug in the corner, hopped up and darted toward the door.

  Hard to tell which Lucky preferred: the dog knocking him off his feet the moment he came in the door at night or the critter a few obedience lessons turned into a poster child for doggie Valium.

  Charlotte clipped the leash into place and vanished out the door, Moose tugging her along. She might as well put a saddle on the beast and ride him. At least he was moving. Sometimes the dog slept so hard only snores let Lucky know the critter wasn’t dead.

  He turned his attention back to Cruz. “Now, what do you want?” Time for Cruz to spit out an answer.

  The humor left the man’s face. So unlike the usually irreverent agent. “We’re still searching for Owen Landry. There’ve been reports of him being back in Atlanta, and our mutual friends sent me to check on you.”

  How kind of them. Not. Would Nestor and Victor ever stay out of Lucky’s business now that they’d made their presence known?

  But Landry? Back in Atlanta. Did the asshole have a death wish? Probably. He’d been stupid enough to piss off Lucky and conspire to harm Walter.

  The two retired drug lords playing house in France must get pretty bored, as much as they meddled in Lucky’s life. “I haven’t seen him, though I’ve kept a watch.” Not too close of one as he’d like to since he’d been told to butt out and let someone with a wider reach track down the bastard who’d nearly gotten Lucky killed.