Relation Read online

  Nephew? Lucky eyed the woman up and down. Every ounce of her screamed “hard-core biker.” Bo mentioned his aunt’s boyfriend giving him a motorcycle once, but he’d never imagined she’d ride—or look the part.

  He’d always pictured a matronly rural housewife type.

  How odd that Bo hadn’t told Lucky much about the woman but that she worked a lot, taught him to shoot, and kept him and his brother safe from their asshole father.

  This was Bo’s aunt? Looked like she could go a few rounds with Lucky in the boxing ring—and possibly win.

  Bo had been evasive about knowing bikers back home. What the hell?

  “Lucky, is everything…” Bo froze, crimson creeping up his face and to his ears. He shook himself and put on a more neutral face. “Oh my God! What are you doing here?” He shot past Lucky out the door, picked up the woman—nearly as large as he was—and spun her around.

  Her hard demeanor dropped. “Coming to see my nephew. What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”

  Bo sat her down and turned to Lucky. “Lucky, I’d like you to meet my Aunt Becky.”

  The woman extended a beringed hand and winked. “Folks call me Fox.” The big bear of a man from the grocery store pulled up on his black Harley, removing his helmet and jacket to place onto the seat as he climbed from the bike. The woman’s jacket and helmet lay across her purple bike. In a move eerily like a predator stalking prey, the man strolled toward the house.

  Damn, what a big man. Tattoos snaked up both arms and his neck, disappearing under the bandana tied around his head. He broke into a grin three paces from the door.

  Lucky hadn’t even realized he’d assumed a defensive stance. What? Oh. He stashed his Glock behind his back.

  “Bo! How the hell are ya?”

  Bo let out an “Ooof!” when the huge man snatched him away from the woman and wrapped him in one seriously aggressive hug.

  Well damn. The bikers from Hell who’d been following him turned out to be family? Bo’s family. And Lucky had worried about Bo’s reaction to the Lucklighters. At least Bo hadn’t tried to pull a gun on them.

  Yet.

  Nope, Charlotte had been the one to pull a gun.

  Meet the Schollenbergers.

  So, what happened when Lucky met your family? he heard the voice of Charlotte in his head ask.

  Even if just in his head Lucky caught Bo’s harsh disapproval. He tried to shoot them.

  Lucky whipped his attention back to nephew and aunt mid-argument, backing up toward the threshold. Where could he stash his gun? On second thought, he might need to keep his firepower close. Just because Bo hadn’t run screaming yet didn’t mean he could trust them.

  As much as Bo talked of reconnecting with family, there had to be some reason he hadn’t yet, though he did speak to this woman on the phone occasionally.

  Still, Bo managed to be charming and nonchalant even around the worst kind of criminals.

  “It’s not that I haven’t wanted to visit. Things have just been busy,” Bo said to the woman who’d reclaimed hugging rights.

  The human grizzly leaned against the porch column, arms across his chest and lips turned up in an indulgent smile.

  The woman growled. “Have you ever heard of Facetime? Text? Messenger?”

  Bo sighed. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. I should’ve visited.”

  “Damned right, you should have.”

  “Now, Foxy—” Mr. Tattoos began.

  “Oh, no. You’re not tag-teaming me this time. You know good and well he should’ve been home for a visit by now.” The woman glared daggers at her… husband? Boyfriend?

  Bo finally managed to wriggle free of his aunt’s grip. “Aunt Becky, Uncle Jackson, I’d like you to meet my partner, Lucky. Lucky, this is the aunt who raised me and her partner, Jackson Cole. Most folks call him Ink.”

  Neither aunt nor uncle seemed inclined to move closer and shake hands. Lucky nodded instead, the Southern equivalent. Currently holding a gun behind his back put his right hand out of commission at the moment anyway.

  The man pulled off his bandana and scrubbed a hand the size of Cleveland over his shaved head. “I guess you might can figure why they call me Ink.”

  From the top of his bald head, down his arms, up his neck, even his hands were tattooed. The only bare skin remaining was on the man’s face. Not cheap prison tattoos either, the kind tattoo artists photographed and displayed in shop windows to lure customers.

  Lucky let out a low whistle. A silver wolf howling at the moon on the man’s head was some fine work. Lucky’d never gotten into tattoos himself, but he’d met plenty of guys in prison covered in ink, as well as some of Victor’s people.

  “Come in.” Bo, probably familiar enough with the artwork not to gape like a landed fish, held the door open for the two bikers to step inside.

  Lucky’s family was redneck, Bo’s was biker. God help their kids.

  The couple’s heavy boots plodded across the living room floor.

  “Want some coffee?” Bo asked, dropping into the role of host.

  He had some explaining to do about why he’d never told Lucky much about these folks, not even when they’d been stuck in a Mexican drug tunnel, worried about dying, and swearing if they got out alive they’d try to reconnect with their families.

  Lucky had, Bo hadn’t even though they had talked about going for Thanksgiving last year.

  Aunt Becky let out a whistle, turning a 360 in the middle of the floor and taking in the great room. “Nice house. You must be doing well for yourself.”

  Lucky’s hackles rose. He didn’t know anything about this woman but that she raised Bo and taught him to shoot handguns. There also might be more reasons than Bo said why Lucky hadn’t already met her. The narrow miss at Thanksgiving could’ve been planned.

  Besides, these wouldn’t be the first relatives to come sniffing around to see what they could get.

  So far Bo hadn’t given any indication of being uncomfortable, but he’d gotten really good at acting for his undercover assignments.

  This woman’s brother had abused Bo for years. Until Bo’s family proved themselves trustworthy, Lucky would keep them in his sights and not leave Bo’s side for a moment.

  He’d also keep his gun handy.

  Why hadn’t he background checked these people already?

  Chapter 3

  “Your brother is doing okay, but poor Drew has the worst taste in girlfriends,” Becky said between sips of coffee. She quickly added, “Bless his heart.”

  “He’s never been good at seeing the bad in people,” Ink added. He preferred beer to coffee—at ten A.M. With his size and build he’d likely never managed to drink enough to get drunk.

  Yeah, Drew shared that seeing good in bad people thing with his brother. Or, Bo used to be that way. Association with the Stephan Mangiardis of the world left a man a little warped.

  “So, you’re the man Bo talks about,” Becky said abruptly, turning to Lucky, who sat beside her on the couch—per Bo’s orders. Bo sat on Becky’s other side.

  What? Bo talked about him. Lucky narrowed his eyes. “What did he say?”

  “That you’re 51 percent sweetheart and 49 percent sonofabitch, and not to push it.” She chuckled at her own joke.

  How was this woman, so down-to-earth and yet tough-as-nails, even remotely related to the asshole who’d lost custody of Bo in her favor?

  “Mind if I ask you something?” He kept his voice low while Ink entertained Bo with some story or other.

  She lifted one eyebrow in a perfect imitation of her nephew. “Why I’m a decent human being while my brother is a piece of shit?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Don’t you have family that didn’t turn out too good?”

  Yeah. Me. Not that he’d tell her the truth. Then again, Bristol had been so unlike most of the Lucklighters that he might have been swapped at birth. “My brother.”

  “There ya go.”

  Artwork trailed
up her arms, colorful fish and sea dragons. “Who did that?” Lucky nodded toward her arms.

  Becky hiked a thumb at her partner, sitting in the armchair near the couch. “Ink. He’s got his own studio. He’s damned good too. Folks come from all over the country to get inked by him. He’s won one hell of a lot of awards.”

  And had a proud as shit partner, if her grinning was anything to go by. Seeing beyond the tattoos and biker image was the caring woman who’d so fiercely defended Bo and raised him when he’d needed her.

  She couldn’t have been much older than twenty, if that, when she’d taken in her brother’s kids. Judging by Bo, they’d thrived, though he had yet to meet Bo’s brother.

  May he be nothing like Bristol.

  He relaxed a little, enough to push his Glock behind the couch cushion and finally let go. She was brash and a bit rude, definitely rough around the edges. Remind you of anyone? he heard in Charlotte’s voice.

  “So, Bo says you work with him,” Ink said, tearing his attention away from Bo, and focusing gray eyes on Lucky. The easy way the two men spoke reassured Lucky that, despite Bo’s issues with his biological father, he’d had a good, strong male influence in his life—a heavily tattooed bear of a biker.

  Only, if they got along so well, why didn’t Bo ever talk about them? Hell, in over three years of more or less togetherness he’d only seen one picture of Bo, his brother, and his aunt. Was there something going on here Lucky should know about?

  Maybe he should have performed background checks on Bo’s family. At least he’d have had some idea of what to expect. First thing Monday.

  When Lucky didn’t answer, Bo stepped in. “Yeah, he trained me on the job.”

  Lucky needed one very big question answered. “Why have you been following me?”

  “What?” Bo’s head snapped around toward Lucky so fast they’d have to check him for whiplash later.

  Aunt Becky—Lucky couldn’t bring himself to call her Fox—never even flinched. “We thought you might be the reason he stayed away.”

  When Charlotte’s husband became an abusive asshole, he’d tried to keep her isolated, away from the family who’d step in a protect her. Did they think…

  What the fuck? Lucky’s anger slipped his grip. “Why? Cause you think I’m an abusive asshole like Bo’s d—your brother?”

  Did they really think Bo would get involved with someone like that? Then again, they hadn’t seen him much lately, didn’t know the man he’d become.

  Why was Bo staring at the floor? Oh, God. Lucky looked down. Nope, they’d not left lube on the floor. In fact, the only thing out of place there was a few tufts of cat hair.

  Tapping on the sliding glass door pulled their attention to the back of the house. Moose smacked his paw against the door again, showing off his full-body wag.

  Lucky let him in. Some people didn’t like animals in the house, but this was Moose’s home. They’d talk later about Moose not barking when strangers came into the yard.

  “Oh, what a pretty dog!” Badass biker lady cooed at Moose. Now Lucky had officially seen everything.

  Moose rolled over, presenting his stomach. Belly rub whore.

  Lucky wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “What would you have done if I had been like that?”

  Becky glared for a full minute, then deflated. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. Bo wouldn’t be with you if you weren’t good to him.” She met Lucky’s eyes, hers a bit watery. “Sometimes I still see him as the boy he’d been when…”

  When the one who should’ve given his left nut to keep Bo safe hadn’t.

  Lucky smoothed down his hackles. “You want your nephew safe and happy. I respect that.

  “I do too.”

  ***

  Charlotte and Ty swept through the door promptly at lunchtime, carrying way more pizza than the family normally ordered.

  The moment she sat the boxes down she descended on Becky, pouring on so much Southern charm her interrogation came across more as polite conversation, full of lots of smiles, “You don’t say,” and a steely glint in her eye that said trust must be earned.

  By feeding them, another Southern tradition. How had she known to buy so much pizza?

  Oh. Bo must’ve texted and let her know they had guests.

  The visit progressed from glowers and mistrust in the living room to the entire family gathering around the table for pizza in the seldom-used dining room. Finally, Lucky got to sit next to his man. The kitchen table only sat four, and eating in the living room didn’t end well for anyone but Moose and Cat Lucky, who’d not yet decided to grace the newcomers with his presence.

  Pizza guaranteed he’d come out of hiding.

  Cats.

  Charlotte probably had to dust the dining room chairs before they’d settled in.

  “I couldn’t help noticing you’re wearing wedding bands.” Becky turned her attention to Bo, frowning. “You didn’t invite us to the wedding.”

  Oh, that. Bo and Lucky exchanged glances. Bo shrugged and acted as spokesman. “We didn’t get married.”

  “But you wear bands.”

  Lucky laced his fingers with Bo’s on the table. “Actually, he used you as an example of how two people can have a lasting relationship without legal papers.”

  At this, Becky and Ink locked intense gazes. She let the subject drop. There had to be more to their story than Bo said.

  “You’ve been together a few years now, right? Have the two of you considered starting a family?” Becky asked the moment the last pizza slice disappeared as if by magic into the Amazing Teenaged Garbage Gut. Ty gave Ink a run for his money on eating.

  What the fuck? Lucky might have decided not to forcefully show these people the door, but knowing him five minutes didn’t give them the right to get nosy.

  Lucky opened his mouth, and out came, “Actually, me and Bo been taking turns trying to knock each other up, but ain’t nothing took yet.”

  Charlotte and Becky spewed sweet tea. As with their spitting contests as kids, Charlotte managed a damned impressive range. Ink grinned and lifted his latest beer in salute.

  Bo buried his face in his hands, shaking his head and muttering, “No, no, no. You didn’t just say that.”

  Oh, fuck. He’d said that out loud, hadn’t he? There’d be hell to pay when Bo got him alone.

  Double fuck. “Sorry, Ty,” Lucky mumbled.

  Ty grinned and mimed tossing popcorn into his mouth. “The latest Avengers movie got nothing on this.”

  All conversation screeched to a halt. Lucky, Bo, and Charlotte eyed each other. Lucky only hoped he didn’t appear half as guilty as the other two did.

  Bo let out a sigh. “We’ve looked into a surrogate. In fact—”

  Charlotte shot out of her chair and ran for the kitchen, returning a moment later with a damp cloth to clean up the spewed tea. Nothing made a freshly mopped floor stickier than sweet tea. “Ty, why don’t you go feed the animals?”

  “But the conversation’s just getting good!” He cast a sly glance Lucky’s way. Probably hoping for a bribe to leave the room.

  “Your mama has spoken.” Lord, Lucky had been in a lot of bad positions in his life, but the one he knew better to attempt was between a parent and child. They didn’t owe this woman any answers, but if Bo chose to tell her…

  Charlotte gave her youngest son a warning glower that would’ve backed off the hardest of criminals. Ty mumbled and crept away. It wasn’t like the boy didn’t already know their plans. Maybe Charlotte didn’t feel comfortable talking about their arrangement with her kid around.

  Right now they only had an idea. They’d yet to discuss particulars.

  “Isn’t that a bit risky?” Becky asked. “Having some stranger—”

  Charlotte looked at Lucky, then Bo, who nodded.

  “I’m going to be the surrogate. Or rather, my eggs, Bo’s… Everything else.” Charlotte didn’t even bat an eye while explaining. Well, studying to become a nurse meant she had to be
matter-of-fact about such things, right? “We haven’t figured out when yet.”

  “Oh.” Ink swatted Becky on the back. “See what you get for asking too many questions? What have I done told you about getting up in other people’s personal business?”

  “What too many questions?” Becky grinned. “I’m going to be a great aunt.”

  Ink rolled his eyes and clapped a hand on Bo’s shoulder from his spot at the head of the table. “You know you might as well have told her to move in, right? You’ll never get rid of her now. You know how much she loves kids.”

  Move in? The house reached capacity about two bodies ago.

  She loved kids but never had any of her own. Lucky wouldn’t ask. Okay, he’d wouldn’t ask her, but he’d sure as hell question Bo later.

  Chapter 4

  Family or no, Lucky was going to use blackmail material if he had to, but he’d somehow get the SNB techies out here to secure the community gate so it didn’t admit every damned body. While the contrary gate let in Bo’s family—this time—it could have easily opened for Owen Landry, or some other asswipe with Lucky in their sights.

  Time to take matters into his own hands.

  He collapsed against the couch. Family. Nice thing to have—in another state. Nice, and he appreciated the hell out of them being there for Bo, but dayum! They wanted to know everything about everything.

  Aunt Becky could give Walter interrogation pointers.

  Still, why had Bo never talked about them much?

  At least they’d stayed a while then gone back to their hotel to rest before their nine-hour ride back home. Not without extracting a promise from Bo and Lucky to come for Thanksgiving this year, however.

  “I’m sorry, Lucky. When you mentioned being stalked by bikers…” Bo eased down on the couch and took Lucky’s hand. The scent of whatever he’d been cooking worked better than an aphrodisiac. Of course, any scent from Bo had the same affect.

  Lucky shifted to make his stiffie more comfortable. “I didn’t say I was stalked by bikers.”