He hadn’t had orange cake in twenty years. He’d never let his mother know, even if they were still talking, but mocha might be his new favorite.
“Presents!” Rett handed him a package the moment Lucky laid his fork down, derailing his side trip to Never-Will-Be-Again-Land. Tyrone ducked behind Mrs. Griggs when his mother stood up.
Eager faces all around. Opening a gift from her in public might not be such a good idea. No telling what she got him. Then again, it couldn’t be too bad with her kid present.
Mama used to make him open presents carefully to save the wrapping paper. He ripped into the package, leaving only shreds. The aroma hit his nose a moment before he registered the bag sitting in front of him. “Two pounds of Starbucks decaf.” Bo elbowed him into good manners. “Thanks.” That elbow had gotten a good workout lately.
But Rett sure knew how the gift-giving thing worked.
“Ours next.” Walter slid an envelope down the table. Braves tickets.
“Now you gotta make sure me and Bo are in town to watch the game.” And Lucky damned sure would pay Walter back for his part in the surprise party with a B-flat serenade.
Oh! Maybe a rousing rendition ofAchy Breaky Heart.In the car. Where the boss couldn’t escape.
Walter scrubbed icing off his face with a napkin. “Duly noted.”
The present from Lisa and her husband didn’t shake worth a damn. Gift cards. And good luck getting Mrs. Griggs’s hand-knitted cat sweater on the little fur ball currently batting paper through the grass. Overall, not exactly the kind of gifts he’d gotten back in his drug lord boy toy days.
Thank God.
Lucky dug his buzzing cellphone out of his pocket. The only people who ever called him after working hours were all here. He checked the caller ID and froze.
Oh shit.
Charlotte.
What the hell? She never called. They texted each other or e-mailed, but they never, ever spoke. And he’d already gotten her birthday card.
Hearing her voice would only hammer home what a shitty brother he’d been, getting involved with the wrong people and going to jail. No matter what, she stood by him, God bless her misguided heart.
Bo peered over Lucky’s arm. “Aren’t you going to answer?”
“Huh?”
“The phone. Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”
Whatever made her break their normal pattern had to be bad news. Lucky shook his head and dropped his phone on the table. She wouldn’t call in birthday wishes.
Bo reached for the phone. “Someone really should answer.”
“You answer.”
The phone stopped buzzing. Good. Maybe she’d leave a message.
The buzzing started again.
Bo sighed and picked up the phone. “Hello? No, it’s Bo. That’s all right. I completely understand. He’s here.” The smile fled Bo’s face and his voice. He held out the phone with a shaky hand. “Lucky, you need to take this.”
Chapter Three
Hard to tell whose hand trembled more, Lucky’s or Bo’s. Their fingers connected when Lucky took the phone. Bo held Lucky’s hand a moment before letting go. Holy hell. Must be something awful.
“Let’s all go inside.” Bo herded their guests out of earshot.
“Richie? Richie!” came from the tiny speaker.
Staring didn’t make the phone disappear. Lucky braced for the worst. “Hello?”
