Redemption (18 page)

Bands of pressure loosened from Lucky’s chest. Bo. Grinning. Joking about sex. Hallelujah! Marching back into the house and putting words to action sounded mighty good.

Time to pull out the heavy artillery. “I’m trying to take you on a date.” Lucky held up his hand to stop any protests. “You can say we’re just two buddies going out to get a bite if it makes you feel better. But I can’t stop by and pick you up ‘cause you’re already here.” Stephan was not going to rob Lucky of Bo’s company. Besides, the horse was out of the barn. As Walter pointed out, too late to close the door now.

“I can live with that, I reckon.” Bo threw him a kiss.

Flirting? Hallelujah!

“Awww… ain’t that sweet.” Mrs. Griggs waved at them.

They couldn’t get moved into their new place soon enough.

Bo buckled into the passenger seat. “I’m still on leave. Borrow my truck and put the car in the shop. I can do without for a few days.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with the old girl that I can’t fix. I just haven’t had the time.”

Bo patting Lucky’s hand wasn’t necessary. “Lucky, this Camaro is old. She’s lived a long and full life, having outlived umpteen sets of tires. She deserves her retirement. You need a new car.”

“No I don’t. A little TLC and she’ll be good as new.” Besides, he liked not having car payments, even if the darned thing turned into a money pit. Oh hell, who was he kidding? A few more days of not starting and he’d put a few bullet holes in the door his damn self.

“Maybe you should get a car since we’ve put the brakes on getting a house.”

Bo opened the door, time for Lucky to walk through. “About that—”

“I mean, think of all the times you’re out of town. What if you broke down or something?”
During a car chase
didn’t need to be said.

“My car’s fine.” Besides, Lucky wasn’t spending a dime on anything else until he put the house in order. And when on assignment, the SNB issued him the world’s ugliest Malibu, a car marginally better than his own.

“Would you at least have it looked at by a professional?”

“I was a professional. Once.” In a body shop, but still. They worked on cars.

Bo scowled. “Pul-eeze. No self-respecting mechanic would have let his car get in such shape to begin with.”

True. Not that Lucky would admit how badly he’d neglected his ride. “Maybe later. I’ll pick up a starter.”

“When was the last oil change? Belts check?”

“I’ll have to look. The paperwork’s in the glove box.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we heading to work?”

“Oh, fuck. I forgot to turn about two miles ago.” Damn. Lucky pulled into the next Italian restaurant he saw. His turn wasn’t the only thing he’d missed—the door of opportunity slammed shut to tell the truth about why he didn’t want a new car now. If all went well, he’d mention the house over dinner. Yeah, that’d work.

What a fancy place—and packed. A group of men entered, wearing suits and ties. Some of the customers they’d met in Texas with Stephan had worn expensive clothes. Dressing nice didn’t make a nice person.

Lucky opened his car door. The light didn’t come on and Bo didn’t move. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Lucky, I… I can’t go in.” The whites of Bo’s wide eyes glimmered in the darkness. His rapid breathing filled the car. “I can’t… I just…c an’t. Please. Can we go?”

“What’s wrong?” Lucky shut his door and captured Bo’s clammy hands in his own.

“Too… too many people. I can’t. I… can’t.” Bo’s gasped, again and again.

Hyperventilating. Not good. “You don’t have to. Why don’t I go in and order us something.”

“Please, can we just go home?”

“It’ll only take a…”

“Get me the fucking hell out of here!”

Lucky jerked back. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Bo deflated. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll stop by the taco place with the drive through. It’ll be okay.”

They were a block from the house before Bo spoke again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Words failed him. Lucky grabbed Bo’s hand and held on tight. Any talk about the future had to wait since
now
wasn’t too damned certain.

***

Lucky flopped down on the world’s ugliest couch the next morning. “Dr. Drake, you gotta help me.”

Chapter Thirteen

Lucky eased the front door open. No telling what he’d find. Mrs. Griggs hadn’t called, so Bo’s day must not have been too bad. Lucky’d stopped checking at three calls and four “Damn it, Lucky!”

Wonderful smells and a wagging Moose greeted him. Bo wandered into the living room, wearing an apron. “I thought I’d make it up to you since we didn’t get to eat out last night.”

Lucky stripped off his jacket and gave his man a kiss. “Smells wonderful. You went grocery shopping?”
Without flipping out
remained unsaid.

“Delores went with me.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Griggs.”

“Oh.” She’d always be Mrs. Griggs to Lucky. “Smells good.” Damn. Bo cooking again. And he’d left the house.

“I just put the lasagna in the oven, so we’ve got time before supper. Give me five minutes.” Bo swiped his mouth across Lucky’s and disappeared down the hall.

A kiss. An actual, honest to God kiss. Lucky loosened his collar and strolled into the kitchen to wait out the longest five minutes in history. About a cupful of morning coffee still filled the coffeemaker. He poured it into a cup and put the cup in the microwave.

“Ready yet?” he called. He tossed a squeaky toy for Moose while Cat Lucky kept a safe distance.

“Just a few more secs.”

“Great. I love secs!” Lucky adjusted his rising cock.

The microwave chimed. He retrieved his warmed-over coffee and added a generous amount of stevia. Not too bad, but nothing close to what he hoped waited in the bedroom. He leaned against the counter, sipping brew and gripping the cup so hard it might shatter. Surely five minutes had passed.

“You can come in now.”

So long coffee, hello Bo.

Sultry music summoned Lucky to the bedroom. He closed the door, leaving the pets in the hall. Daddy and Daddy needed alone time.

Bo lay sprawled on the bed, nothing on but his chaps and, unless Lucky missed his guess, the thong he’d bought for their first Christmas.

The bedside lamp cast shadows over Bo’s body, painting him in darkness and light. The only thing missing was the playful smile he used to wear, and the adorable dimple he’d rarely shown since their return from Mexico.

Bo turned, giving Lucky a good view of his exposed ass.

Damn what an ass. Round and firm and framed by black leather. Lucky hurried forward and gave each cheek a caress.

Bo hopped up, splayed a hand against Lucky’s chest, and urged him down on the bed. Stepping back, he swayed to the music. Extra flesh padded a middle that had been slim and trim a few months ago.

Worry penetrated Lucky’s lust fog. The man wasn’t taking care of himself. Self-neglect wasn’t in Bo’s nature.

Bo’s movements, though sexy, appeared too well-practiced. He coasted on auto-pilot, his cock hanging flaccid down his leg.

So much for Bo acting like his old self.

“No.” Lucky wrapped his fingers around Bo’s arm, mid-shimmy. “I see what you’re doing, and it ain’t gonna work.”

Bo lifted his chin, a glint in his eyes. The muscles under Lucky’s fingers tensed. “I’m dancing. What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re treating me like a customer in whatever hell-hole you used to work at.” The heat in Bo’s glare caused Lucky to swallow hard.

Anger lurked beneath the surface, ready to boil over at one wrong word.

Lucky reached over with his free hand and turned down the music. Bo could dig his heels in all he wanted, but this was one battle he wouldn’t win. Too much rode on the outcome.

Silence fell, as did Bo’s shoulders. Good. Maybe he’d listen now. “You’re doing whatever it takes to put distance between us. You, the guy who wanted me to open up, wanted us to ditch the rubbers. Mr. White-picket-fence-and-forever. That’s changed now. You’ve built walls, and I don’t fucking like them.”

As hard as Bo had worked to break through Lucky’s defenses, a world of shit must be going on in his brain to put up his own barriers. They could be cast iron and still be no match for a stubborn son of a bitch.

Bo eyed Lucky’s hand gripping his arm and jerked back.

Lucky let go. Now was not the time to trigger restraint nightmares.

Bo retreated a few steps, rubbing his arm.

Lucky softened his tone. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Fuck, he’d rather carve his own liver out with a dull spoon than see fear in Bo’s eyes.

“Not physically. Look, I’m trying, okay? Too much is going on up here.” Bo tapped his forehead. “Why can’t everyone leave me the fuck alone?”

Because I love you. I want to help you.
Lucky rose from the bed and wrapped his arms around his trembling partner.

Bo fought for a minute, then sagged, resting his head on the top of Lucky’s. “I don’t know what to do. Before this case, I had everything figured out. Keep out of trouble, be nice, live a decent life. Then Stephan’s drugs go and shake up part of my brain I fought hard to ignore.”

Stephen Mangiardi must die
. “Don’t do this, Bo. Don’t let the son of a bitch win. It’s hard, I get that, but hold on—please?”
For me? For us?

A home. Kids. Family. All things Lucky hadn’t dared hope for until Bo came along and taught him how to dream again.

Like hell would Stephan Fucking Mangiardi take those things away. Not while Lucky still drew breath.

“I’m trying.”

Lucky bit back “try harder.” Bo didn’t need his shit. He needed caring and support: things Lucky wasn’t qualified to give. “What do you need me to do?”

Bo’s sigh ruffled Lucky’s hair. “I don’t know. If I did I’d tell you. Be here for me? Don’t give up on me?”

“Kick your ass when you try to give up?” Damn. Had Lucky said that out loud?

Bo let out a weak chuckle. “Yeah, that too, I suppose.”

Lucky brought his hands up to frame Bo’s face and lifted until their gazes met. Sadness shouldn’t be in Bo’s eyes.

They’d have the house, they’d live together. They’d make a life. Lucky would kill or die to turn the dream into reality. But at the moment Bo struggled to keep his head above water. Telling him about the house might stress him out even more.

Lucky touched their lips together, easy and undemanding. Judging by the leather, Bo planned for a little rough and tumble, no thinking, no feeling, simply fucking. Lucky did the same thing when life caught him by the balls.

Another way of running. Time for Bo to turn and face his fears. Let Lucky help him fight.

Lucky breathed in Bo’s leather and cologne scent, chasing back the memory of hospital smell that had clung to his skin not too long ago, and ran a hand feather light up Bo’s arms. With all the tenderness he could muster he enfolded Bo in his arms.

If Bo decided his future wasn’t with the SNB, fine, as long as the future included a redneck bantam rooster son of a bitch.

Without realizing how he got there, Lucky found himself back by the bed, connected at the mouth with Bo. Bo’s cock pushed out the front of the leather thong, and Lucky rearranged his erection more comfortably in his jeans.

They moved as one, onto the bed, facing each other.

Bo broke the kiss, his dark gaze boring into Lucky’s. “Make me forget.”

“How ‘bout I give you better memories?” Lucky sat up, yanked his shirt off, and made short work of his shoes, socks, and pants.

Bo reached for the buckle on his chaps.

Lucky whispered, “Leave them,” pushed Bo onto the bed, and slid down, taking the leather-covered bulge into his mouth.

Moans from above drove Lucky on, and he ran his tongue up Bo’s bare chest and back down again, gripping the belt on the chaps. Nice handhold there.

Bo arched up, buried both hands in Lucky’s hair and shoved him back southward.
Yeah, yeah. Put me where you want me.

Lucky pulled the leather thong to one side and took one of Bo’s balls into his mouth, groaning against his mouthful. God, how he’d missed this. Bo’s scent was muskier here and damned if the smell of leather and man didn’t do funny things to Lucky’s insides. Wiry hair tickled his nose.

The music played on, smooth, smoky jazz to drown out any outside noises. The chaps cradled Bo’s ass. Lucky cupped the rounded globes in his hands and bit the exposed part of Bo’s inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to add a little spice. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in kink. This wasn’t about play.

Tonight had to reseal their bond. They’d spent too much time sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

Lucky loved Bo with his mouth as much as he dared. Certain things didn’t need discussing tonight. He pulled back, sliding his hands over leather-covered thighs and to Bo’s groin.

After a few fumbles he untied the thong’s strings and set Bo’s hard-on free, wrapped his lips sideways around the shaft, and bathed smooth skin with his tongue. When he drew near the crown Bo stiffened. Uh-oh. Lucky retreated.

No blowjobs then. Time for plan B. Lucky slid up the bed, wrapped one hand around his cock, the other around Bo’s, gaze locked with his lover’s. Lightning burned through him straight down to his toes. Neither looked away as Lucky jacked them both off.

Even through the music their gasps and moans carried. Lucky bent and sealed their mouths, Bo’s hands on his shoulder both pulling him close and keeping him upright. Moans vibrated against Lucky’s tongue.

Bo added his hand to Lucky’s, speeding the pace. Eyes closed, he threw back his head. “Ahh…” He groaned, cock spasming in Lucky’s hand.

Lucky gripped himself tighter, stroked faster. Come sprayed from Bo, coating his stomach.

Lucky added his own spatters a moment later and collapsed in a sated heap.

They lay in each other’s arms, lightly stoking each other’s skin, Bo staring at nothing, Lucky staring at Bo. God, the man was gorgeous, even drenched in come. Especially drenched in come.

“Can I take a picture?” Lucky asked.

“What?”

“A picture. I want to take a picture of you, exactly as you look now.”