Bo remained silent for a few moments, then, “Lucky?”
“Yes?”
“How many kids did your parents have?”
What kind of fool question was that? Bo knew as well as Lucky how many Lucklighters walked the earth, courtesy of his parents. “Five.”
“And you’re the oldest.”
Lucky released an exasperated snort. “You know that I am.”
“So, your parents had four more kids after you?”
“Yeah.” Bo’d met all of them. “What are you getting at?”
“Just think about it a bit, it’ll come to you.”
Bo fell asleep without explaining.
Chapter Four
The house was quiet, too quiet. Lucky leaned on the deck railing, sipping coffee and watching Moose roam ’round and ’round the yard, nose to the grass. Why did dogs make such a big fuss about where to take a dump?
Moose finally located the right bush to pee on, then kept on hunting for a place to squat. Dogs.
Cat Lucky jumped up on the railing, as if to say, “I know, right?” and leaned into Lucky’s hand.
Pink lined the horizon over the treetops in the distance, and around him the neighborhood came to life as cars trundled down the street, temporarily silencing a barely-heard lawnmower from a few streets over.
Parts of the backyard privacy fence leaned at an odd angle, and the railing supporting his weight needed a coat of water seal.
No matter what he and Bo fixed, the property continuously needed more work.
The glass door behind him slid open, and a moment later arms encircled his waist. Bo planted a soft kiss on the back of Lucky’s neck. Thank God the boys weren’t in the living room so they could PDA to their hearts content.
“Good morning,” The comforting scent of Bo combined with soap, toothpaste, and cologne. No matter what else he added to the mix, Bo still smelled like Bo.
“It’s Monday, so the jury’s still out,” Lucky growled. Damn, but he hated mornings, and Monday morning worst of all.
“Well, if the day turns out bad, I’ll make it up to you later.”
At one time, the day got better with such a promise. Now… Now “later” meant finagling time alone.
“You woke Ty up, didn’t you?” Bo nuzzled Lucky’s jaw.
“Yup.” His nephew would probably laugh at the dark blue suit, if he decided to acknowledge Lucky’s existence at all today. Lucky pulled at the silken noose around his neck.
Bo stepped to the side and let out a low whistle. “Mr. Harrison, you do clean up nice.”
Lucky scowled. He might be in a business suit, and had even combed his hair, but underneath all the window dressing lay an ex-con, redneck, tobacco farmer’s son. Bo? Lucky stepped back and appraised Bo’s hella fine body made to wear a suit. That man looked nice in anything he wore.
Or nothing at all.
No! Wait. Assless chaps. Black leather cradling the firm mounds of Bo’s ass. Yeah. Like framing for a work of art.
Lucky shifted to give his growing cock more room and shot a glance toward the living room. Empty.
Moose finished his business and raced back to the deck, paws and belly wet with dew.
