by Eden Winters
“Do you want them there?”
“I just want our nearest and dearest. If we invited my brothers, then my uncles might get all bent out of shape if they’re not invited.” Then the aunts, and grandparents he hadn’t talked to in years, who’d probably not show because they couldn’t be seen as endorsing a gay relationship. If the guests weren’t happy for him and Bo, they should keep their asses at home.
“They’d want to come,” Bo murmured, brushing his lips against the back of Lucky’s neck. “They’re your brothers.”
“They might want to spend a weekend in Atlanta. Especially if we’re footing the bill.” Every time Charlotte added details, Lucky heard a “cha-ching” in the back of his mind. He’d peeked into some of those magazines. He didn’t want to spend $50,000 on a party that’d last five hours, tops. Rehearsals, rehearsal dinners, bachelor parties, receptions. Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching.
Bo ran his lips around the shell of Lucky’s ear. Lucky closed his eyes, leaning back into the embrace, Certain parts of his body began clamoring for their bedroom and a naked Bo. “Please, Lucky. Don’t go through with their ideas if you’re going to be miserable.”
“How would you feel about a big wedding?”
“I don’t care one way or the other. As long as you’re my husband at the end of the day.” His voice took on a husky tone. “And I get to take you to bed and consummate the marriage.”
Oh! A part of wedding planning Lucky could get behind.
Or under.
They quietly left the nursery and closed the door.
CHAPTER 2
“Who’s gonna be your best man?” Lucky sat in his Adirondack chair on the back deck, Bo sitting next to him. Two more large chairs sat vacant: Ty’s and Charlotte’s and two little chairs, one Andro might sit in for two seconds at a time, and one Jenny hadn’t yet grown into. It’d be there when she was ready.
The sun sank lower in the sky. Soon, they’d retreat inside due to cold. Right now, though, Lucky’s long-sleeved Henley kept him warm enough.
Bo laced his fingers with Lucky’s. “My brother, Drew. Back when we were kids, we went to a wedding. Uncle Ink’s brother. My uncle acted as best man. Drew and I said we’d be there for each other, like Ink and his brother.”
Yeah. Lucky figured. They didn’t see each other much, yet now that they’d touched base again, Bo and Drew video chatted and texted each other often, rebuilding a close relationship.
Which included the occasional sibling rivalry.
“How about you?” Bo asked.
What a question. One Lucky had no ready answer for. Not like Bo who, of course, worked out best man honors around age fifteen or so. “I don’t really know. Me and my brothers aren’t close, and to be honest, I don’t have many close guy friends. Walter, maybe?” Walter had been with him through good times and bad, though he couldn’t imagine what kind of bachelor party he’d have.
Bo stared off at the sunset. “He’s more of a father of the groom, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how my father would feel about that though.” All those years, cut off from his family, missing his father’s advice. Lucky had turned to Walter, who’d never shunned him no matter how obnoxious he’d been.
“It’s our wedding. If you want Walter to sit with the parents then the Smiths will damned well sit in front.”
Lucky paused and imagined the scene: his mother and father, who might or might not get along. Bo’s aunt and uncle. Walter and Lucille Smith. Maybe he’d stick the Smiths between his parents to act as a buffer.
The biggest smile belonged to Walter. “Yeah. I think I’d like that. I hope he will too.”
Bo swung their hands between their chairs. “He will.”
“That still leaves me needing a best man.”
“Who says it has to be a man? Lucky, this is our wedding. We make the rules. Who do you want standing beside you at the altar?”
“Charlotte?”
“She’s wedding planner, she’ll be too busy. I also think there’s someone perfect that you just won’t say for some reason.”
There was. “Rett Johnson.”
Bo grinned. “Good choice.”
“Think she’ll do it?” Snubbing her nose at convention might be reason enough for her to agree.
“Lucky, think for a moment. This is Rett we’re talking about.” Bo rolled his eyes. “Who do you think’s been goading me into asking you? If you even considered anyone else, besides maybe Walter, you might never find the body.”
What? Okay.
The best man planned the bachelor party, right? One year for his birthday Rett took Lucky to a strip club and got him a private dance from Bo. Guaranteed, she’d throw one hell of a party. Bo would be surrounded by bikers. Would he survive the party to get married? How many tattoos would he have? Not that his Uncle Ink would work on him while drunk, right?
“Now, you have to talk to Rett. Don’t tell her I mentioned her hinting.”
Yeah. That.
Loretta Johnson sashayed into Lucky’s office bright and early the next morning and sat a cup of coffee on his desk. She sipped from her own. Somebody wanted something. Visiting him no longer involved traipsing down the hall to his cube, or more recently, scooting a chair across a few feet of ugly brown carpet. Now, stairs or an elevator were required.
“I still can’t believe you got your own office.” She craned her neck, gazing out the window. “You know, if you turn your head just right and peer between those two buildings over there, you kinda sorta get a view.”
“Yeah. Of a tattoo parlor and a strip joint.”
The words Lucky’d practiced on the drive to work ran screaming out the door. The badass agent had that effect on people. “Rett, um… I…”
“Yes, Lucky?” She pulled back glossed lips, showing more teeth than absolutely necessary this early in the morning.
She wasn’t going to make this easy, was she? “I mean… well…”
“I’m waiting.” Rett exaggerated tapping the fingernails of her free hand against his desk.
Lucky dragged a hand through his already messy hair. She wasn’t going away until he got the words out. If she did, he’d have to run after her. “You once said you’d do anything for me, right?”
“Something like that.” She cocked her head to the side, a worry line forming between her brows. “Who you need me to kill?”
“Nothing like that.” Not that he knew of. Nice to know she’d be open to the prospect. “I-want-you-to-be-my-best-person-at-the-wedding,” tumbled from his mouth. There, he’d asked. Told. Something. And he’d said “person”. That was politically correct, right? Lucky and politically correct didn’t know each other very well.
“Really?” She placed her coffee next to Lucky’s on the desk, pumping her fist in the air and chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!”
“You don’t have to get that excited. It’s just a wedding.” Did she know something he didn’t?
“I just won the office betting pool.” She sobered. “Don’t worry. I’m using my winnings on a wedding present. Now, I’ve earned bragging rights, let me go brag.” Halfway out the door she stopped. “I almost forgot why I came in here. Lunch? Bucky’s Barbeque?”
“Sure.” Especially since the knots eased from Lucky’s stomach.
One step closer to marrying Bo.
Rett came barreling back into the office two seconds after clearing the door and grabbed her coffee cup. “By the way, Lucky. I’m seriously honored.” Her eyes glittered as she turned away.
“So, full meal or finger foods?” Charlotte spread more brochures across the coffee table. They had to be reaching the thing’s weight limit by now. Not to mention how tempting all the colored paper was to a toddler. Half the fliers now sported teeth marks. “I’ve done my research, and these two”—she waved two brochures— “have the best online reviews. But these”—she picked up two more— “have better variety. You know we’re kinda late doing this, right?”
“Seven months i
sn’t enough time?”
“Lucky, some weddings are planned nearly two years in advance.”
“Two years?” Why? Lucky stood. He knew folks whose marriages didn’t last that long. All this talk made him squirmy. Why did marrying Bo have to be so complicated? Couldn’t they just go somewhere and have a simple wedding, a nice dinner, maybe a little dancing?
Then spend a week in bed together. If only he could just tell her she freaked him the hell out with this rapidly expanding wedding.
“What’s wrong, Lucky?”
Lucky stopped his pacing. How could he say this and not hurt her feelings? She’d put her whole heart into this. He’d hurt her before without meaning too. Like hell would he do so again.
“Is it the caterer? I mean, we can do finger foods if you’d like.”
Lucky resumed his pacing. He needed a drink. Only, they didn’t keep booze in the house. “It’s not that. It’s… it’s.…”
“Everything,” Charlotte finished for him. She patted the couch beside her.
Lucky stared at the cushion.
“Sit!” Charlotte ordered.
Lucky sat.
“Now, sweetie, tell me the truth. You don’t want caterers, and tuxes, and flowers, do you?”
One word might break her heart. “It’s not that, it’s…”
“It’s what?”
“It’s… yeah… it’s everything. The longer this goes on, the more complicated it gets. Char, I’m not a tux and flowers kind of guy, and the more we plan the more I twitch.”
Charlotte half-turned, taking both his hands in hers. “No one said you have to go big or go home.”
“But you and Rett have been working so hard on this wedding.”
“And we’ll use that information later. I have two sons, there’s Daytona, and m… Rett.”
What had she started to say?
“Are you sure?” It couldn’t be this easy.
“I’m sure. Look, you and Bo sit down, list what you want and what you don’t want, and we’ll go from there. I’m sorry, Lucky. I got carried away and scared you, didn’t I?”
It really couldn’t be this easy.
“Now, what have you decided on?” She sounded so rational. Not offended at all. Maybe he should’ve told her weeks ago before he’d lost so much sleep tossing and turning.
“I want to marry Bo.”
“And?”
“I want the kids there.”
“Who else?”
“You, Mom and Dad, Walter and Mrs. Smith. Um… Rett’s gonna be my best… person.”
Charlotte barked a laugh. “Really?” The smile fell. “That’s brilliant, actually. Who else?”
“Bo’s gonna want Lisa and her husband. His aunt and uncle. His brother’s gonna be his best man.”
“How about Cruz?”
“Cruz?”
“He’s helped you out a few times. Maybe stay on his good side.”
If he invited Cruz, he’d never hear the end of it. “Invite Vivienne. She can bring whoever she wants to.”
“That works.”
Though Charlotte gathered up the brochures, her smile remained genuine. He knew her too well to fall for a fake. “So, back to the drawing board.”
“I’m sorry.” Her not making a big deal of his wanting a smaller wedding added to his guilt. He couldn’t win against his conscience.
Charlotte patted his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I love a challenge. I’ll talk to Bo, get his ideas, and come up with something you’ll both love. He’s mentioned a few things, but didn’t come right out and tell me he didn’t want a big wedding.” The patting became a swat to the arm. “You two really need to learn to speak your minds. Now, I have to get started watching YouTube videos for simple wedding ideas.”
Lucky started to walk away.
“Oh, brother dear?”
Damn, what now? Lucky slowly turned back around. “Yes?”
“Don’t you think it would be awesome if you and Bo wrote your own vows?
CHAPTER 3
“I want to marry you, I really do, but what started as you and me getting legally married turned into flowers, who to invite, who’d get pissed off if we didn’t invite them, who we didn’t want there, and tuxes.” Lucky buried his face in his hands, peering out from between his fingers. “Can you imagine me in a tux?”
Bo chuckled. “I have. Many times. Usually with you ripping it off.” He waggled his eyebrows and gently convinced Cat Lucky to sit on the couch rather than Bo’s lap—after he’d tried three times to reclaim his spot.
“Spoilt critter.” Lucky rubbed the spoilt critter’s head.
“Are you sure it’s just the wedding and not the marriage that’s got you jittery? Charlotte promised to tone things down, right?”
Lucky wrapped his hand around the back of Bo’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Positive. There’s one more thing. I don’t want to wait for a spring wedding. I’d rather go to the courthouse or something. No fuss, no muss.”
“Low key, just like you.” Bo’s smile meant he might like low key.
“Yeah. Um… I’ve also been giving other things some thought.”
“About what?” Bo’s brow furrowed. Yeah, well, sometimes when Lucky did a lot of thinking bad things happened.
Maybe not this time. “I… well. Simon Harrison isn’t my real name, and I’ve thought some about changing back to Richmond Eugene Lucklighter.” He considered. “Maybe without the Eugene. Anyway, why hyphenate our names? Wouldn’t that make things harder for the kids?” Harder for Lucky too.
“We don’t have to. You can take my name, or I can take yours, we can hyphenate, or we can each keep our own name. The only important thing is that you and I are together in life.” Bo punctuated his words with a kiss. “Some couples are even discarding both last names and creating a unique one all their own.”
That’d be weird. Then again, “Harrison” was as made up as a name got. Lucky took a deep breath and hurried on before he lost his nerve. “I… I want to take your last name.”
Bo froze, searching Lucky’s gaze. “Are you sure?”
Breathing came easier when Bo didn’t laugh. “I’m sure. Let’s make things simple for the kids and all be Schollenbergers.”
A slow, steady smile spread over Bo’s face, bringing out an appearance of The Dimple. God, Lucky loved that dimple. Loved putting it on Bo’s face too.
“Schollenbergers we’ll be, then.”
They lost the need for words, using their tongues to communicate in other ways.
Charlotte didn’t mention the wedding again, nor did Rett, except for the occasional prodding for him to write his vows.
If fact, their avoidance of the topic got Lucky’s hackles up. He sat on the couch doing some quiet research of his own on small, intimate weddings.
“Hey, Lucky.” Charlotte strolled into the room with a bundled-up Jenny clutched to her chest. Rett carried Andro, Rone trailing behind proudly carrying the diaper bag.
Lucky jumped, slapping his laptop closed. Nope, not looking at weddings. Not at all.
“Rett and I are going to the Smiths. They want to see the kids.”
“They didn’t say anything to me.” Strange, usually they called Lucky or Bo.
“Oh, we were already talking. I called Lucille for… um… her butter pecan cake recipe.” Charlotte’s grin nearly gave Lucky the screaming shivers. Rett’s as well.
“Okay.” Bo was due home soon. Maybe they’d get some alone time.
“Bye,” Charlotte said, seeming a bit too chipper. She grabbed a jacket and her handbag, ushered the others out, and closed the door.
Were they… giggling?
Weird. Who knew what they were up to?
“C’mon, Lucky. I’ve got an idea.” Bo rose from the couch and extended a hand. “You’ve been so stressed. Put on your leathers and let’s go for a ride. Rett and Charlotte won’t be back with the kids for hours.”
Yeah. Lucky needed a break. At this rate, he’d be happy w
ith hopping on the Harley and driving off into the sunset, if it wouldn’t mean leaving the kids behind.
The day wasn’t too cold for late October, and the sun warmed his leathers. Charlotte had placed a bale of hay in the front yard, took some of Ty’s old clothes, and stuffed them with more hay to make a scarecrow. A plastic pumpkin served as his head, which lit up at night.
Several other houses in their neighborhood boasted similar decorations. All the work they’d done paid off. Their home no longer appeared a poor cousin next to the others on the street.
They headed toward I-85. Lucky didn’t question. If they had time to ride, they’d ride. Bo turned off the Interstate at the Tanger Outlet, heading toward Athens. Athens? Why? Surely Bo wasn’t nostalgic for being Cyrus Cooper in the Corruption case that came close to ending their careers, if not their lives.
Bo drove past Athens and kept going. Lucky enjoyed having his thighs pressed to the backs of Bo’s, Bo’s lovely bubble butt rubbing against Lucky’s crotch. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.
Lucky recognized his surroundings, particularly when Bo turned down a dirt road and the motorcycle shuddered and shook until a log cabin came into view. The same cabin they’d shared for part of the Corruption case. Lucky had loved those lazy days with Bo, spending time together while waiting for some cartel to contact them.
Hadn’t Walter given them a gift of two weeks here as a Christmas present once? Why hadn’t they used the time yet?
Cars. And trucks. Vans. More Harleys. Shit. “What’s going on?” Lucky climbed off the bike, removed his helmet, and opened his jacket. Bo’s aunt had sewed a patch over the bullet hole he’d gotten through the leather a few months back.
Bo removed his own helmet and flashed Lucky a bashful half-smile. “I’m going out on a limb here, and if you don’t agree, this is simply a family picnic. However, since you’ve been so stressed about a wedding, I thought you might like to get married here, with just family and close friends. I know you liked this place. I’ve booked it for a week. Our honeymoon.” Bo stared at the ground, more unsure than Lucky ever remembered seeing him.
