Though his heart filled with the hope of Ty’s forgiveness, he’d do everything in his power to keep the kid away from drug enforcement.
Too many uncertainties.
Then again, life was uncertain.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Lucky hid in his cube. No other word worked but coward. No way, no how was he leaving his desk or going home anytime soon.
Not withthemthere. He shivered. At home Charlotte and Rett talked nonstop about kids, men, and when said kids weren’t around, things that made Lucky suddenly remember something urgent to attend to in another room.
He’d done the hard part, driving a U-Haul from Spokane to Atlanta. Kinda fun, reliving his old eighteen-wheeler fantasies.
In the meantime, he’d gotten to know his nephew throughout a surprisingly nice road trip. Ty snapped selfies of himself and Uncle Lucky, posting them to social media, then checking his phone every five minutes and giving an update of how many likes he’d gotten from friends.
Lucky had taken more than a few pictures himself.
Now boxes and boxes and boxes spread out in his living room, both spare bedrooms, and if he looked really hard he might find the Harley amidst all the furniture stored in the garage.
This morning he’d gone into the guest bathroom and found a bra hanging from the towel rod. What was the world coming to?
He loved having his sister and nephews near, but he’d gotten settled into a bachelor routine. Then he’d gotten used to having Bo around.
No. He’d discovered that life wasn’t worth living without Bo.
No more getting friendly with his man in the kitchen. If his sister knew what happened one day on the counter, she’d still be spraying bleach water.
Only until she found a place of her own. By then, he’d be so used to her presence he wouldn’t want her to leave. She’d also offered to help him and Bo become parents by carrying Bo’s child. Well, having her underfoot beat worrying about her. What if she fell in with some bad element?
Hmm… Maybe he shouldn’t have shot down Jimmy the Annoyingly Perky Agent from Virginia when the guy wanted to date Charlotte.
Now the guy had transferred to the Atlanta office, damn it all to hell. Jimmy seeing Charlotte might not be the best situation, since Lucky would be his boss for the foreseeable future.
Outranking the man gave Lucky strategic advantage. Not that he needed to defend his sister’s honor or anything. If a date didn’t treat Charlotte with respect, she’d have him laid out on the floor before Lucky ever got there.
She’d toughened up a lot since leaving her loser of an ex-husband.
Today after work his sister and the woman who’d elbowed her way into Lucky’s life were going shopping, and to a bar later while Bo and Lucky occupied Ty and Rett’s son. How’d that happen?
More than likely Charlotte and Rett would be talking about him.
Scheming.
Plotting dinner parties and cookouts, and all kinds of things involving lots of people invading Lucky’s personal space.
Like the reasons he wouldn’t leave his cube: the rookies who followed him like a pack of puppies any chance they got, whispering, “It’s him! It’s really him!” like groupies. Hadn’t they heard he was a card-carrying sonofabitch better avoided at all costs?
He’d better work harder on his asshole reputation.
Bo smirked at him from across their shared cubicle. “You know you can only hide in here for so long before the new recruits find you.” He snickered. “Want me to go get you more coffee?
The mere mention of coffee made Lucky wince. No hope for it now, he’d have to venture out of his cube before a full bladder got the better of him.
He poked his head out of the cube. Good. Not a soul in sight.
The moment he stepped into the hallway he cringed at the, “Oh, there you are, Mr. Harrison. Have you got a moment? I’d like to ask you something.”
Lucky didn’t even bother to see his pursuer, either Jimmy, wanting Lucky to fix him up with Charlotte, or some snot-nosed youngster who wanted to show off police academy knowledge by asking Lucky too many fucking questions.
