“Remember what a little shit you were at his age?” Charlotte sounded slightly tipsy again and incredibly fond. “I’m surprised Mama and Daddy let you survive until adulthood.”
Trust Charlotte to dish out reminders he didn’t need. At Ty’s age he’d definitely been a little shit, had tried pot, beer, liquor, and a few things he wasn’t sure of. During their teens, kids were stupid. He’d also had sex. More than once.
A lot more than once.
But his nephews were so young and innocent.
“I still remember you drag racing down that old dirt road.”
Lucky winced. No matter what off-the-wall schemes Ty dreamed up, they couldn’t beat Lucky’s exploits. “You didn’t by any chance tell Ty and Todd about that, did you?”
“No. Didn’t want to encourage bad behavior. How about all the times you slipped out your bedroom window? Or jammed to heavy metal in your room and locked the door so Mama couldn’t get in and turn your stereo off.”
Yeah, he’d used loud music to hide the fact he’d slipped out. Oh. “I’ll be right back. I gotta check on something.” He slipped down the hall and eased the guestroom door open. Ty and Todd lay on the air mattress he’d gotten from Rett, backs to each other. He released a relieved breath and hurried back to the phone.
“Back,” he said.
Charlotte yawned. “Okay. I need some sleep. Tell the boys I love them and I’ll call them later.”
“Will do.” If Ty would bother listening to him at all. Lucky hung up the phone, returned to the refrigerator for more eggs, and stopped midway. He retrieved the device, thumbed through his contacts, and hit “call”.
“Good morning, Richmond,” his mother said. “You’re up early on a Sunday. What’s up?”
Lucky held his breath. He needed to do this. Should have done this years ago, if only he’d been on speaking terms with his parents then. “Mama, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for being such an asshole growing up.”
***
Lucky sat the breakfast tray, holding green tea and his third attempt at scrambled egg whites and toast—and buttering Bo up—on the nightstand and stepped back, watching Bo sleep. No, nothing creepy about that at all.
But… Damn, the man was beautiful, curled up on his side, dark brown hair sleep-tousled and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Face slack with sleep, The Dimple remained hidden.
Bo’s dimple-producing smiles rocked Lucky’s world.
He glanced at the closed door on the far wall, fighting temptation, then gave up and stepped into the room he hoped to use one day.
“When the time comes and you and Bo are ready to start a family, me having Bo’s baby is the closest thing you’ll get to your own,”Charlotte had said.
He gazed into the empty room, imagining childish giggles and toys littering the floor. Or him and Bo gently placing a sleeping baby into a crib, watching a tiny chest rise and fall.
He might not be perfect but, if given the chance, he’d damned sure give his all to be a goodfather. No doubt whatsoever of Bo’s ability to be a loving and nurturing parent. Which brought to mind an image of Bo, curled up on the couch with a miniature version of himself, reading a kid’s story.
A smile stretched across Lucky’s lips.
The technical things beyond diaper changing he’d have to learn from Charlotte. She’d be here to help.
Lucky’s heart clenched.
The perfect life. One he’d never dreamed he’d have.
With his sister’s help.
With Bo’s love.
Whatever he’d done right to end up with Bo he’d never know, but he’d stop questioning and count his blessings instead.
And try to do right by his man.
Now to summon up the nerve to once again ask his partner to make things legal, make them a family in the eyes of the world.
