Had he been too hard on the kid?
“Good night.” Bo brushed his lips over Lucky’s in the briefest of kisses. “Wake me up if you need me.” Moose and Cat Lucky trailed him down the hall.
Todd strolled out of the kitchen. “Good night, Uncle Richie.”
Lucky tried not to flinch. He’d grown unused to being “Richie.” Richie had died long ago. “Good night, Todd.” He rose and gave his nephew a hug, awkward at first, but then wholehearted. Damn, but he’d missed out on most of his nephews’ lives. If he’d been there, would things have been better or worse?
Certainly Victor’s money would have ensured they never lacked for anything—as long as Victor stayed in the picture.
As much as Lucky had loved the rich life, the clubs, the fancy restaurants, the expensive gifts, they weren’t him. No matter where he and Victor went, Lucky always felt out of place, like he didn’t belong.
Out of place. He’d felt out of place.
So did Ty.
Lucky sat on the couch, waiting for his nephew, like his father had waited on him when he’d stayed out too late.
Would Lucky one day find himself sitting in this house, waiting for his own kids to get home?
He turned out the lights and paced. What would he say to Ty when he finally got home? Did he have any right to say anything at all?
Oh, dear God! What if Ty didn’t return? Maybe he should drive around looking some more.
Lucky neared the point of snatching up his keys when the front doorknob turned.
He sucked in a deep breath, heart banging away in his chest. May he find the right words to say.
The door eased open and a slim figure slipped through, shoes in hand, creeping toward the hallway and freedom.
Lucky flipped on the lights. “Not so fast.”
Ty froze, then bristled. “What do you want?”
Lucky flinched at the venom in the words. “We’re going to talk. Come here and sit down.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I’m tired and going to bed.” Ty took a few steps toward the hall.
Lucky swallowed hard. Pride didn’t go down easy. “Please. I only want to talk.” Could Lucky follow through? He eyeballed his glowering nephew. Oh, yes. To keep his nearest and dearest safe and lay down laws, he could.
Ty stayed near the hallway. Finally, he sighed and crossed the room at a snail’s pace, flinging his tennis shoes to the floor. “Okay. I’m listening.”
And inwardly rolling his eyes, no doubt. “Sit.” Lucky patted the couch cushion beside him.
Ty pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in a stunning imitation of his mother at his age in all her teenaged, bratty glory. He sat in a chair opposite of Lucky. “Okay, I’m here. Now, shoot.”
Lucky’s heart pounded harder than it ever had when he faced down a gun. Say words he couldn’t take back and he might live with regret the rest of his life.
Oh, to make this easier. Inspiration struck. Lucky stalked to the hall closet, rose up on his toes, and fumbled around on the top shelf. A-ha!
He pulled down a full pack of Oreos. Hmm… He’d only left a few…
Bo.
Lucky returned to the couch and handed over the pack. “Don’t tell Bo about my junk food stash.” Although Bo replacing the nearly empty package meant he already knew and understood Lucky’s need to self-medicate with sugar.
He waited, holding his breath. Ty ripped open the pack and shoved a cookie into his mouth.
“Good, now I have to do the parental thing and tell you we have rules around this house for a reason.” Lucky had no right talking about rules when he usually went to great lengths to bend them to the point of breaking. “We’re all living here. If we follow the rules, we stand a chance of getting along.”
