by Eden Winters
Especially if he invoked Walter’s name.
Johnson poked her head through the door and mouthed, “Need me?”
Lucky waved her off. “I’ll be done here in a minute.”
The cop looked over his shoulder in time to see Johnson retreat the way she’d come. Lucky had totally forgotten about asking for backup if he didn’t check in. No call, and there she’d stood.
Good ole Loretta Johnson. She had his back.
Keith came into the room with a laptop. They weren’t friends, would never be friends, but Lucky sleeping with the new boss and Keith respecting both the old and new bosses made for some kind of weird truce. Plus, Lucky’s nephew dated Keith’s daughter.
“Here’s what I got,” Keith said, sitting as far away on the couch as possible while still in range to show Lucky the screen. “Whoever did this disabled his cameras. Here’s from earlier today.”
Lucky took the laptop and studied the video. Not the best he’d seen, but not the worst. Blue car, red car, black truck. Why the hell hadn’t he gotten details about the car when he’d had the chance? It must be old, but were there any identifying markings?
White vans were white vans. Without “I’m the killer” emblazoned on the side, obvious body damage, or a license plate number, they’d never find the right one.
He hadn’t asked for more details because he’d expected Chastain to be here, alive and well. Now a man was dead because Lucky hadn’t taken Chastain’s fear seriously enough. Damn it all to hell. Could the cameras have caught anything? Someone entering? Someone leaving?
No. Just cars.
Chastain had pissed off many in big pharma for refusing to roll over and let them steal his revolutionary new diabetes drug. Most of those executives who’d hoped to take unfair advantage were in prison, or awaiting trial.
Hmmm… As soon as he got back to the office, he needed to call up the complete list of all indictments, finding any suspects who might roam free in the world pending their day in court.
One person, the top name on the list, still evaded capture: Owen Landry.
As a former DEA agent attached to the SNB, he’d know how to bypass or deactivate a camera. If he were in Atlanta, and offed Chastain, he’d not stop there.
Sooner or later, he’d come for the man who’d screwed up his plans of a corner office, an easy job, and lots of lovely money.
Lucky.
CHAPTER 6
Lucky sat at the kitchen table with Charlotte, Ty, Alejandro, and Bo, pushing mashed potatoes around his plate with his fork, knee pressed tightly against Bo’s.
Bo didn’t need words to understand something gnawed at Lucky’s mind. He reached a hand beneath the table and gave Lucky’s thigh a quick squeeze.
Andro sat in his highchair, opening his mouth like a little bird for Bo to feed him pureed peas, and slapping his hands against the highchair tray between bites. They’d banished Moose from the kitchen during mealtimes. “It’s so cute how Moose sticks close to Andro,” Charlotte had said, until the baby dropped food. The teething cookie never hit the floor.
“Furry Hoover” Lucky privately called the four-legged moocher.
“Are you trying to make a sculpture or do you intend to eat those taters at some point,” Charlotte asked, a fork in one hand and the other resting on the mound pushing against the front of her T-shirt.
“Sorry.” Here he sat with his nearest and dearest, his mind a million miles away.
If Landry had returned to Atlanta, and if he’d killed Chastain, should Lucky worry about his family?
A warm hand on his arm drew his attention to Bo. “I heard about the murder today. I’m sorry I couldn’t get away and join you on site.”
What? “You don’t come running when the other agents find a dead body, do you?” An all too frequent occurrence in the drug enforcement world.
Bo patted Andro’s mouth with a napkin and gave Lucky his full attention. “Well, no.”
Yes, Bo’s being there would’ve made Lucky feel better, but he’d have to put on his big boy pants and learn to work on his own again. “If you start showing up whenever I have a bad day, the department will think you don’t trust me or that you have to hold my hand.” Lucky held up his three-fingered left hand. “Or what’s left of it.”
“But Lucky…”
“No ‘but Lucky.’ I’m a senior agent. I was handling cases long before you came along.” Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to sound so defensive.
“All right. You’ve made your point.” Bo went back to making airplane noises and cooing, “Open the hangar!” for a giggling Andro.
Charlotte and Ty swiveled their gazes back and forth between Lucky and Bo. Lucky stared at his sister. She was supposed to have his back, not consider him quality entertainment.
She paused, mid-slurp of a spaghetti noodle, gave him a sheepish grin, then inhaled the remainder of the strand. Spaghetti and mashed potatoes. He’d love to blame food weirdness on her pregnancy, but strange food combinations might be more of a Lucklighter thing.
“Well, something’s bothering you,” Bo said, keeping his tone calm. “Can you blame me for worrying?”
No. Although Bo couldn’t worry about Lucky anywhere close to how much Lucky worried about Bo. Had Walter told Bo yet about the threat to his job? Bo hadn’t said anything. Should Lucky?
“I’m sorry,” Lucky finally said. No getting out of this corner he’d backed himself into with a smart-assed answer. “But this isn’t something I can talk about openly.” He searched Bo’s face for some kind of distress, and found none.
Well, Bo shouldn’t worry about the job. No way, no how, would O’Donoghue force him out. Walter wouldn’t let that happen. Would he?
Ty grinned. “You? Developed a filter? Ha!”
It took a moment for Lucky to catch back up to the conversation.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Unless it’s confidential about work, we need to hear this.”
Lucky let out a put-upon sigh. Now that he thought of the dark O’Donoghue-shaped cloud hanging over Bo’s head, he wanted to sweep the man away and offer comfort.
No winning, or changing the subject, when Charlotte and Ty teamed up. Should be illegal. Not that legalities stopped Lucklighters for long. He spoke more to his plate than anyone at the table. “A victim from a former case called me today, said he was being stalked. Wanted me to come talk to him. By the time I got there, he was dead.”
Bo’s fork clattered to his plate. “What case? Who?”
“Chastain.”
A furrow formed between Bo’s brows. “Chastain.” The light bulb came on, lighting up his face in the process. “Chastain! Oh, my God. He was killed?”
“Yeah. Right before I got there. That’s why I was late getting home. I had to give a statement to Atlanta PD.” And more statements, and more statements… “I promised them I’d send over case records.”
“Any leads?” Andro pounding fists on his highchair returned Bo’s attention back to the matter at hand.
Lucky shook his head. Nothing but gut feelings. “Not that I’ve heard tell of. His security cameras had been disabled about thirty minutes before he died.” About the time he’d called Lucky. “The back door was unlocked. That’s how I got in. He’d been shot once in the head. At close range.” He side-eyed his nephew, who’d abandoned dinner and listened with rapt attention.
“Elbows off the table,” Charlotte scolded.
Ty complied, but didn’t take his eyes off Lucky.
“You think he’s back in town?” Bo murmured, nearly too low for Lucky to hear.
Lucky nodded, teeth gritted hard enough to make his head ache. No need to ask who “he” was. The man of Lucky’s nightmares. “Yeah.”
“Who?” Ty asked.
Lucky ignored him.
Bo spooned up more peas for Andro. “Have you heard from Cruz?”
“Not today.” Cruz. A necessary evil. He kind of grew on a person. Still, he’d helped Bo and Lucky out during their Corruption case in M
exico, though at the time they’d thought him a drug trafficker and not a member of an international drug task force.
He’d returned for the Chastain case, helped Andro’s mother when she’d been the victim of human trafficking, and always seemed to be lurking nearby. He’d promised to keep an eye out for Landry.
Bo regarded Lucky a long moment, head cocked to the side. “Call him. Tell him what happened.”
“I’m pretty sure he already knows.” The outfit Cruz worked for had their hands in so many pies, Lucky wouldn’t put it past them to know of crimes before they happened.
“Who?” Ty repeated, louder this time.
His mother glared him to silence. For now. The kid did have Lucklighter blood after all. They didn’t stay shut up for long.
Lucky should tell the whole ugly story. What if Landry decided to get to Lucky through his family? Simmering rage he’d barely managed to contain back at Chastain’s place heated up with a vengeance.
Moment of truth. “Remember a while back, the case I worked on where Walter got sent to the hospital? Ty, you stayed with Mrs. Griggs. Charlotte, you were in Spokane.” Lucky didn’t add, “Selling your house,” in case the reminder of his old home brought on one of Ty’s moods.
Ty and Charlotte nodded.
“One of the suspects got away. One with reasons to hate me. The man killed today? He was involved in the case too. I’d bet good money his murder relates to the case.” He paused. If only he could think of an easier way to say this.
“Out with it,” Charlotte snapped. She knew him too well.
“If it’s case-related, I wouldn’t rule out him coming after me.” More quietly he mumbled, “Or one of you.”
Charlotte’s face went white. “Is it too late for you to not tell me?”
Ty didn’t say anything. In his world people didn’t pick up guns and shoot each other.
Much.
“Charlotte.” Lucky pinned her with a look she’d understand as “don’t argue with me”. “If you leave the house, I want me, Bo, or Rett with you. Better yet. Why don’t you pack up and head to the farm for a few weeks? I’m sure Mom would love the company.”
Charlotte slapped a hand down on the table, making Andro jump. She winced. “Sorry, kiddo.” To Lucky, she said, “You have no idea if the man is in town or if this has anything to do with you. Ty and I live here now and I have no intention of running for the hills every time you get a wild hair up your ass. Hell, you’ve always got your hackles up about something. Besides, the farm isn’t the most comfortable place to stay with Mom and Dad barely speaking.”
True enough. Lucky held up a hand, cutting off the forthcoming tirade, and deliberately not mentioning the language she’d have fussed at him about. Once Charlotte got going… “Okay, no staying with the parents. Promise me, though. Until we figure out what’s what, you’ll be escorted by a member of the SNB. Got that?”
Her face did a “bit a lemon” pucker “What about grocery shopping?” Oh, yeah, she’d inherited their mother’s scowl. Digging her heels in.
Lucky couldn’t settle arguments like when they were kids, by running to Mom.
Bo stepped in. “Several stores have curbside service. Fill out your order online and Lucky or I can pick it up on the way home. Some have delivery too, but under the circumstances, having strangers at the house isn’t a good idea.”
She poked out her bottom lip and crossed her arms over her chest, so much like the defiant little girl she used to be. At least she didn’t argue with Bo.
“It’s only for a few weeks, I’m sure. And it’s just a precaution.” Bo, the voice of reason, stood a better chance of getting through to her than Lucky. Bo switched his attention to Ty. “We take you to school, we bring you home. I’m sorry, but you need to stick close to the house until we can determine there’s no threat.”
“This kinda thing happens to you a lot, doesn’t it?” Ty twirled spaghetti around his fork, dipped the mass in mashed potatoes, and shoved the forkful into his mouth.
Looked gross, but wasn’t half bad if you added enough spaghetti sauce.
Bo and Lucky spoke in unison, “It happens.”
“Yup.” Ty gave a decisive nod. “I’m gonna be an engineer. They don’t have people wanting to kill them.”
“I knew one once I wanted to k…” A glare from Bo fierce enough to peel paint made Lucky shut his mouth. Not helping. Right.
“You know I have a concealed carry permit, right? And I can fight.” Lucklighters didn’t give up easy, and Charlotte proved more determined than most.
Three sets of eyes landed on her belly.
“Oh, all right.” She huffed a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll be the delicate Southern flower for now, but if I see this guy, I’m still kicking his ass. Oh, I’ll need pictures. And bullets.”
Lucky rocked Andro to sleep. Such a cute little guy, secure in his Papa’s arms without a care in the world. Safe. With Papa. What if Landry came after Andro? The baby? Bo? Charlotte? Ty?
Maybe he should invest in a better security system for the house. Once upon a time, he’d nothing to lose, so nothing to fear. Now?
Bo appeared in the doorway to the nursery, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging boxers. The man looked downright fine in nothing, with his smattering of chest hair, dark treasure trail, flat stomach, and tousled hair. “Is he asleep?”
“Yeah.” Lucky handed the sleeping child to Bo and rose from the chair, stretching out the kinks in his back. He watched as Bo laid the baby in the crib and covered him with the slightly lopsided blue blanket Auntie Charlotte had crocheted for him.
Bo moved his arm around Lucky’s waist. “I still can’t believe he’s ours.” He bent and brushed his fingers through Andro’s hair. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
“Like his daddy.” Lucky leaned into Bo’s warmth and comfort. At one time Bo’s steadfastness rubbed him the wrong way. Oh, how he’d come to depend on his rock-solid man.
Even if Bo did restrict Lucky’s junk food intake.
“Ready for bed? Or would you rather stand here all night and watch our son sleep?” Bo added a hint of innuendo to his voice.
Oh, yeah? Lucky tilted his head back to gaze up at Bo. “I think I’d rather crawl into bed and convince you to pull those boxers off.”
They stepped from the nursery into their bedroom, Lucky pulling the door nearly closed behind them.
A smile quirked up one side of Bo’s mouth, enough to flash a brief glimpse of The Dimple. “Well, now. Think you can do that?”
Lucky pinned Bo against the wall. “I’m told I can be mighty persuasive, when I want to be.”
“Oh, yeah?” Bo’s kiss tasted minty. “You’re overdressed,” he said, pulling away enough to get the words out and returning with a vengeance.
Lucky broke the kiss but remained close enough for their breath to mingle. “If you’re trying to distract me from a shitty day, you’re doing one helluva job.”
“I aim to please. Now hush. You’re interrupting my distraction.” Bo sealed their lips again, slipping his tongue into Lucky’s mouth—and shooting a 220-current straight to Lucky’s groin. He trailed kisses over Lucky’s jaw, down his neck, finally settling where neck met shoulder, lightly scraping teeth over the skin.
Chills ran up Lucky’s arms. And spine. And anywhere else chills formed.
Yeah, one helluva distraction.
Pressing his body close, Bo forced Lucky backwards one step at a time, until Lucky’s knees connected with the mattress. With a gentle shove from Bo, he toppled onto the bed.
He sat up and shucked his T-shirt over his head.
Bo removed Lucky’s boots, dropping them to the floor with a heavy thunk. Together they opened Lucky’s jeans.
With an impatient growl, Bo grabbed the legs, peeled the jeans from Lucky’s body, and deposited the denim and Lucky’s cotton boxers on top of the pile. Bo? Leaving clothes on the floor?
He eased down next to Lucky, all lean muscle, dark hair, and hard, uncu
t cock; running his hand up Lucky’s furry chest and tweaking a nipple. Not hard, but enough to get Lucky’s—and his cock’s—attention.
Bo threw a leg over Lucky’s thigh, his erection pressing against Lucky’s skin. “Why don’t you come here and say that?”
Come here? Not an inch of space separated them. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, you did.” Bo’s voice grew sultry, causing shivers. The same come-hither voice he’d used while seducing Lucky in an alley while roleplaying. He ran his tongue over the shell of Lucky’s ear. “Your body’s yelling at me.”
“What’s it yelling?”
Bo’s warm breath caressed Lucky’s neck. “Fuck me.” He chuckled, still sifting his fingers through Lucky’s chest hair.
“It is, is it?”
Bo gave his best solemn look and nodded. “Oh, yeah.”
As fast as his tired body would go, Lucky flipped them, Bo on the bottom staring up at him. Lucky bent forward, tracing his tongue tip around Bo’s mouth, then slipping it inside.
Bo molded around him; legs spread wide to let Lucky settle between. Lucky shoved, sliding his dick against Bo’s. Oh, damn. Yeah.
“Get the lube out,” he muttered. Good, so good like this. He wanted more and judging by Bo’s hip thrusts, so did he.
“Don’t need it,” Bo said with a grin. “I prepared while you tended Andro.”
Oh, hell yeah! One hell of a visual invaded Lucky’s mind. His cock grew even harder. “Thinking of getting lucky, mister?”
“Yeah. Getting Lucky. Now, how about less talk and more action?”
“I love the way you think.” Lucky lined himself up. He loved the foreplay, getting his partner ready, but this worked too. He thrust slowly, shallowly, teasing…
Bo wrapped his legs around Lucky’s ass and pulled. Oh, impatient! Lucky liked.
Bo rocked up to meet him, hand on his own cock, pumping in time with the rhythm of Lucky’s thrusts.
Weight braced on his forearms, Lucky locked eyes with Bo. Beautiful Bo, face flushed, eyes slightly unfocused. He loved the man’s sex face. Loved seeing him come undone.
