Tradition: Diversion 7.2 Read online

  Shudders began deep inside. Oh, yes, yes, yes! On the edge, just a little more… Yes! Lucky shot, pearly drops splattering Bo’s stomach.

  So fucking good, every bit of tension leaving.

  He crawled onto the bed next to Bo, wrapping his arm around his man. It wasn’t the proper loving he’d like to give, but they needed to get to bed.

  “How about a post-Christmas-shopping shower for two?” Bo rasped once his breathing evened out.

  Yeah, Lucky would save the full Monty for later. They both had to work tomorrow.

  And didn’t it suck when work got in the way of Lucky’s sex life?

  Chapter 3

  The sun went down way too early. Lucky left for work in the dark, came home in the dark, thanks to his commute from his nice little house in the suburbs of Atlanta to downtown.

  From a rundown farmhouse to a house in a gated community in the suburbs. How did that happen?

  He approached the gate every bit as cantankerous as the chair from hell Lucky parked his ass in at work—when he spent a day at the office. Lately, more often than not he wound up on the streets, his pack of rookies following behind him like a bunch of slightly-below-average ducklings.

  Except for Jimmy. The agent who’d followed him home from the Virginia office tried. Hard. Maybe too hard. Lucky might cut him some slack if not for the guy’s determination to date Lucky’s sister.

  And Lucky’s sister planning to get pregnant by Lucky’s partner.

  Nope, nothing screwed up about the situation at all. There had to be a Southern joke in there somewhere.

  He idly tapped his not-quite-wedding band against the steering wheel, waiting for the damned holly-bedecked gate to open. Nothing. Okay, automatic reader wasn’t working. He tried the clicker. Still nothing.

  He rolled down the window and punched in the code. Another car stopped behind him, blowing the horn. Asshat. Like impatience would magically open the gate.

  The gate opened.

  Still grumbling, Lucky drove slowly through the neighborhood. Last year Rett tried to decorate, but the house had still looked like a poor cousin next to the better dressed houses on either side. A few had no lights, but those who’d decorated went big.

  Lucky pulled up into the driveway. Lights shone from the windows, and a wreath hung on the door, twinkling red, green and blue. Dang. Any bigger and it might pull the door out of the frame. Icicle lights hung from the eaves of the house. Even the mailbox sported greenery.

  Ah, the joys of having a teenager around who could scale up and down a ladder without having a bum ankle screaming at them. Or rather, a nephew and a few friends who wanted to escape family the day after Thanksgiving by volunteering.

  Cost Lucky four large pizzas and three two-liter drinks.

  He’d spent the time relaxing on the couch.

  Worth it.

  The living room was dark except for the lighted tree placed strategically by the window to be seen from outside. The front bedroom lights were on: Charlotte’s and Ty’s rooms, for now, until Lucky got busy and built her an apartment in the double garage.

  The decorations were hers. All Lucky owned were a few dollar-store baubles. He crept up the driveway and eased the front door open. Clomping footsteps approached at a run. Lucky braced for impact.

  “Moose, no!” Lucky’s youngest nephew cried from his usual spot on the couch in front of the TV, game controller in one hand. One hundred-twenty pounds of dog skidded to a stop, barely missing taking Lucky’s legs out from under him, and sat with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

  Wow. Quick save. Obedience training must be paying off.

  “You’re welcome!” Never taking his eyes from the TV screen, Ty threw up his free hand. “Hey, Uncle Lucky.” The sound of whatever the hell took place on the game resumed. Ty kept all games even remotely military in nature in his room, so as not to trigger Bo’s PTSD.

  Ty and Bo still wandered Atlanta on occasion, playing their favorite game on their phones. There were much worse ways for the kid to spend his time.

  The scent of pine and something Christmassy hit his nose, with undercurrents of spice, and Spaghetti Friday at odds with the Christmas atmosphere.

  The tree twinkled by the window, packages underneath the branches. Lucky swung his computer bag off his shoulder and dropped his keys into a bowl on the table by the door to join his sister’s.

  She hadn’t used Santas and reindeer, but had filled glass bowls with brightly colored ornaments and surrounded the bowls with greenery. Candles, some real, some fake, sat in the windows, or on the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

  Slurping brought his attention to the corner. Moose lifted his head from his water bowl, droplets spattering to the floor.

  The reason they kept a mop handy.

  Charlotte had strung braided garland over a blank spot on the wall, to which she’d taped Christmas cards. More today than yesterday. He stored his computer bag by the door and stepped forward to read the cards. Some were from aunts and uncles, names he didn’t know that had to be Charlotte or Ty’s friends, one from Lucky’s boss and Mrs. Boss. Rett’s son had made them a homemade card, with blocky crayon writing.

  And, of course, he could’ve picked his former landlady’s card out of a lineup: a black and white cat wearing a Santa hat and batting at the ornaments on a decorated tree.

  Throw pillows sat on the couch and chair, embroidered with green holly and red berries, or a red crocheted cardinal perched on a snow-covered branch, the result of Charlotte trying every single hobby in existence to find one she liked.

  Greenery festooned every doorway, and the rug he normally wiped his feet on gave way to one stating, “Merry Christmas, Y’all!”

  The whole house could’ve appeared in a magazine spread, advertising the perfect Christmas.

  The perfect Christmas. Lucky gave a hard swallow. How long had he dreamed of the perfect Christmas?

  At least three years. Three years in which he and the man in his life too stubborn to give up on Lucky hadn’t gotten to spend together as they’d wanted. No matter who Lucky had to shoot, they’d damned sure get their old-fashioned Christmas this year.

  He stepped into the kitchen, with its festive Christmas curtains that hadn’t been there when he’d left for work. Or rather, not that he’d noticed. Maybe he wouldn’t mention to Charlotte he thought they were new, just in case.

  A voice lured him across the floor and into the seldom-used dining room. Candles gave off a spiced apple aroma. More bowls of ornaments sat on the table and, like the decorations, the plates depicting a snowy winter scene had to come from Charlotte’s belongings.

  “There you are.” Charlotte smiled, waved, and resumed her phone call. “Yes, Mom. No, Mom. Yes, I will. Okay. See you soon!” She rose from her seat at the table and gave Lucky two hugs. “The first one’s from me. The other’s from Mom.”

  Charlotte Lucklighter was shorter than Lucky, who at five-feet-six-inches, didn’t find a whole lot of people he didn’t have to look up to—literally. They’d both had dark-blond hair growing up, but currently his younger sister wore her hair dyed a deep burgundy. The scent she wore brought back memories of Lucky at a perfume counter a few years ago choosing her Christmas gift.

  “How is she doing?” Lucky had spoken to his mother earlier but, still piecing their relationship back together after years apart made her reluctant to tell him anything except, “Oh, I’m fine.” To Charlotte she’d spill the truth.

  “Doing good. Or so she says. Daddy, too. The chunk of liver you gave him must be working.” She elbowed him playfully and smiled. The smile fell. “They’re still not doing so good together though. She’s still sleeping upstairs. But they do talk some, and meet with a counselor from church.”

  She bustled past him, in her usual energetic flurry. “C’mon. Let’s get dinner. I was setting the table when Mom called.” In true Southern fashion, all Charlotte’s words ending in ing dropped the g sound. As in “settin’” the table.
r />   Lucky followed her into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

  “You take this.” She handed him a bowl full of lettuce, cut tomatoes, onions, peppers and carrots. Not a single penis carrot in sight, not that he’d do such around his sister and nephew. Just Bo. Spaghetti noodles and a pot of sauce sat on the stove, swiped up by Charlotte without her even slowing down.

  Lucky chuckled to himself, remembering his creative vegetable carving from when he’d first met Bo. Ugh. Green stuff. He’d rather carry the family-size chunk of cheese or the sweet tea.

  Bo showed up while they placed the bowls on the table, trailed by Ty. He yanked off his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt. Oh, baby. He could keep going, but not in front of family.

  Midway through dinner Charlotte said, “Mom wants you to come up for Christmas.”

  Lucky stopped, forkful of noodles midway to his mouth. For years he’d dreamed of home, longed for home, his mother’s cooking, a houseful of relatives on Christmas day.

  But now? He cut a glance at Bo, to find Bo staring back at him.

  “What?” Charlotte asked.

  Lucky let out a sigh. This conversation might not end well. “I appreciate the invitation, I really do, but…” How could he possibly tell his family he didn’t want to see them this year? Or more accurately, there was something he’d rather do instead.

  “But? Lucky, neither one of us has been home for the holidays in ages. Mama’s got her heart set on this. Especially after Bristol.”

  Bristol. Right. While Lucky saw a bigger picture, what his brother had done, up to and including trying to kill Lucky, Sheila Lucklighter lost a son this year. Oh, the guilt! It burned! On the one hand, he should go home now that the family would welcome him, or some of them might.

  On the other hand, for years he’d longed for word, a letter, a phone call, a text, any damned thing. Nothing. He’d learned to live without them.

  What he couldn’t live without, or who he couldn’t live without, squeezed his hand under the table and saved Lucky the awkwardness of having to explain. “My folks want us to come see them too. If we go to one and not the other, there might be hard feelings. But we spent Thanksgiving with my family, so it’s only fair we spend Christmas with yours.” Bo brought Lucky’s hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the knuckles, one simple, gentle gesture, promising one hell of a lot of support. His voice dropped to a whisper, a puff of breath across the back of Lucky’s hand. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte dropped her fork into her salad. “I hadn’t thought about that. During the five minutes I was married, his folks lived close by. We went to one house for Christmas Eve and the other for Christmas Day. Maybe y’all could alternate Thanksgivings and Christmases at Mom’s and your aunt’s.”

  The reminder of Charlotte’s brief marriage soured Lucky’s stomach. He still wanted to find the bastard who’d dared hit his sister and break a few of his bones.

  Bo exchanged a look with Lucky, tagging him to step into the ring. Time for some honesty, even though Lucky couldn’t bring himself to say that being at his family’s home this year would only rub his nose in all the years he wasn’t invited.

  No, there were other truths he could share that she might understand. “The year I met Bo our case wrapped up right before Christmas.” Lucky rested a hand on his partner’s shoulder. If he’d only known then what he knew now, he wouldn’t have put the man through hell. Or not as much hell. “I went into Walter’s version of witness protection, and Bo went through Christmas thinking I’d died.”

  “Mama and Daddy did too. But I knew better.” She grinned. “I’m not so easy to fool, brother mine.”

  Lucky gave his favorite sibling a smile. “Of course, you did. The next year Bo was on assignment. I spent Christmas alone.”

  Charlotte arched a brow. “You could’ve come see me and the boys.”

  Ty jumped to Lucky’s defense. “Mom, I think I would’ve had a heart attack or something if I’d opened the front door and found my dead uncle.”

  Charlotte pursed her lips and mumbled, “But you could have.”

  Lucky shook his head. “No, I needed to be here, to help if Bo needed me.” No way could he have enjoyed the holidays, worried about Bo. Besides, he’d put a lot of effort into his plans this year.

  “Last year?” Charlotte asked, a touch of hope in her voice.

  “Last year we got called down to Mexico. Spent most of the holidays on the road, then came back to this house, mostly empty ‘cause I’d just closed on the mortgage.”

  Her face brightened. “So you and Bo want to spend Christmas together, just the two of you?”

  Bo and Lucky answered in unison, “Yes.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Ty and I were planning to go up Christmas Eve, stop by and get Todd at Clemson, but we can go sooner if you want.”

  “No!” Lucky loved his sister and nephew, wanted them here too. As long as he got his time alone with Bo.

  Charlotte picked up her fork and speared a chunk of tomato, one of the few things in the salad Lucky tolerated. “See, you should’ve just told me the truth in the first place.”

  Yes, he should’ve, and trusted his sister to have his back in this.

  Like every time before.

  Chapter 4

  Guilt stung a bit when Lucky woke before everyone else to slip from the house, but a man had to do what a man had to do, and he was flat running out of time.

  Damn, but it was hard, slipping out from under Bo’s arm when all Lucky really wanted to do was wake the man up for a good morning blow job. He tucked the covers under Bo’s chin, partly to keep him warm, partly to hide the man’s gorgeous body—too much temptation right now for Lucky to deal with. One good look at Bo’s thick cock and…

  Lucky swallowed a mouthful of drool, forcibly turned away, and left Bo snoozing. He pulled on his boxers, grabbed an armful of clothes, and tiptoed from the room.

  He slunk past his sister’s and nephew’s doors. Snoring emanated from behind one, Moose the Monster Dog likely taking up most of Ty’s bed. No telling where Cat Lucky slunk off too. Probably in bed with Charlotte.

  Traitorous animals. But now Lucky and Bo could have sex without being stared at.

  Saving them from the creepy. He dressed in the laundry room and stomped on the old boots he’d left there since he’d forgotten to grab his tennis shoes on his way out of the bedroom.

  He snatched his keys off the table by the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  Oh, damn. Busted. Lucky turned. Bo leaned against the wall in nothing but a pair of running shorts, in all his sleep-tousled glory. Blanket creases marked his face. Nothing enticed Lucky to stay more than a nearly naked Bo, a warm bed, and a day off. But he had so much to do!

  He steeled his resolve. He’d made plans, and by God, he intended to keep them. “Mrs. Griggs asked me to come help her move a few things.”

  “Oh?” Bo perked up as much as 7:00 AM on a weekend allowed. “She must have begged to get you out of bed this early. I can get dressed and come with you.”

  Lucky backpedaled so hard brakes should have squealed. “No, that’s okay. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Then why so early?” Bo cocked an eyebrow.

  Why, indeed. The only way this could be worse was if Charlotte woke up and sided with Bo.

  His sister! Family! “She’s got relatives coming in last minute, and they’ll be there around noon. She needs to clean out the guest room.” There! That sounded convincing, right?

  Bo stayed silent, allowing enough time for Lucky’s heartbeat to kick up a few notches. “So, you’ll be back by noon?”

  “Yeah.” Lucky closed the space between them, kissed his man, blurted, “See you then,” and raced out the door before Bo could get out another word—and before Lucky thought to grab a jacket. Oh, well. No going back now.

  He’d use the excuse of helping Rett put together toys for her son to sneak out tomorrow.
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  ***

  Monday morning finally came, Christmas Eve. His plans could still go terribly wrong, creating twisty feelings in the pit of Lucky’s gut.

  “Are you sure you won’t come with us to Mama and Daddy’s?” Charlotte stood by the front door, packed bags at her feet as Ty made trips to her car and back, ferrying brightly colored packages.

  Lucky put on what he hoped passed for a sad face. “Tell them we’re sorry. Maybe next year. But we’ll be there by the weekend. Save us some leftovers.”

  “We could always stay home with you.”

  Ty stopped, arms full of bags, hopeful expression on his face. “Can we, Mom?” Not too long ago, Ty would have taken any opportunity to escape from his uncle. What a difference a few months… and having a local girlfriend, made.

  “No, ya’ll go on,” Lucky said, a bit too quickly, ignoring Ty’s pleading eyes. “You haven’t spent Christmas with them in years.” Please let her not change her mind. Please, please, please.

  “Oh, right. You. Bo. Alone time.” Charlotte’s grin turned sheepish.

  Ty growled something Lucky couldn’t make out. Charlotte kissed Lucky’s cheek. “Merry Christmas!” She narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare even think about opening your gifts until Christmas Day.”

  Bo strolled out of the kitchen, enfolding Charlotte in a hug. “Drive safe, now.”

  “We will.” To her son, Charlotte said, “Let’s get movin’. We’re burnin’ daylight.”

  The door closed behind them, leaving Bo and Lucky alone.

  Hallelujah!

  ***

  Roast beef and potatoes, with plenty of veggies for Bo, waited for them at the Smith’s. Lucky tried some of everything, green or not, and nodded each time Mrs. Smith asked, “How is it?”

  No dessert, since Walter was on a diet, and Lucky followed Bo’s cue on how long they had to stay without seeming rude.

  They drove through the Smith’s neighborhood, mostly stately old houses, many that time had forgotten, most with elaborate decorations. Bo looped through the neighborhood. “Oh, those are nice,” he commented, passing a house with white lights hanging from the tree branches out front and electric candles shining from the windows, also white.