Twin glares of death should’ve reduced Keith to ashes. Instead, he leaned against the wall of Bo and Lucky’s cube, smirk firmly in place.
“Oh, Keith?” Lisa appeared, breathless.
Keith turned. “Yes?”
“Mr. Smith would like to see you in his office. To… discuss your latest report.” She sealed her lips in a tight line, but laughter shone in her eyes.
The asshole of the year spun on his heel and trounced off.
Lucky had to ask, “Did Walter really ask for him?”
“Oh yes.” Lisa collapsed into giggles, hanging on to the cube wall for support. “Seems Keith’s last report contained the words toMary Had a Little Lamb, among other things. The boss is… concerned. Thank you, Lucky. I really appreciate your help.” She snickered again and wandered away.
“Mary Had a Little Lamb?” Bo asked. “What’s she talking about?”
“Oh, nothing.” With about three more years of practice, Lucky might master looking innocent.
“Lucky.” Bo’s tone nearly matched Lucky’s mother’s when he’d tormented one of his younger brothers as a kid.
Time to fess up. “Keith didn’t heed my warning and made Lisa do his work again. I… helped.”
Bo winced. “Helped, how?”
“Remember the kid’s bookGreen Eggs and Ham?” Lucky used to read the story to his nephews.
“Yes.” Bo folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Lucky rolled his shoulders. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I rewrote it. Kind of. ‘I should not make Lisa do my work, I should not be a stupid jerk, I won’t make Lisa type again…’ I don’t remember all the rest. But the ending is clear enough. ‘I do not like you, Keith my man.’”
Bo managed a straight face for all of a half minute and released a cackle. “You didn’t!”
“Sure did.”
“You know you’ve just won a valuable ally, right? Lisa knows about as much of what goes on around here as Walter does.”
“I’d rather have you bent over my desk.” Lucky’s attempted leer fell short.
“How about you save that thought?”
“Till when?”
Bo glanced right and left, then brushed his lips over Lucky’s. “Till we get home.”
***
Lucky raced Bo up the sidewalk to their house. Neighbors might get an eyeful. Let ‘em.
Bo won the race, leaving Lucky to fumble to get the door open while he stood on one foot and yanked his shoe off.
He grabbed Bo and fused their mouths. The door sprung open. Together they fell through the doorway. Lucky tossed the shoe God knew where and slammed Bo against the wall.
“Clothes! Off! Now!” Lucky grabbed either side of Bo’s button-down shirt and ripped, buttons pinging off the walls.
“My shirt!” Bo cried.
“I’ll get you a new one.” Lucky ran his lips down newly exposed skin. “I’ll get you a dozen.” He slid to his knees, working Bo’s belt loose. “I’ll get you three dozen.”
He slipped the leather from the last loop and let go. The belt vanished before hitting the floor. “Damn, it, Moose!”
