Was he ever! “Oh, hell yeah.”
If possible, Bo grinned wider. The waiter returned with an order pad. “Oh, man. We’re going to be fathers!” Bo reached across the table and took Lucky’s hand.
The waiter stopped mid-motion, pen held to the order pad. He sniffed loudly and turned on his heel.
A moment later a smiling young woman took his place. “Hi. Are you two ready to order?”
“What happened to…” Lucky cut his gaze back to where the waiter disappeared.
Their new server flapped her hand. “His mind’s so narrow it cuts off the blood flow from time to time.”
Ah, a homophobic bastard. Lucky’d give the young woman her best tip of the month and hope she rubbed the asswipe’s nose in it.
***
Bo interrupted eating his spinach lasagna every few minutes to grin. “I can’t believe it! What are you hoping for, a boy or a girl?”
Two boys, yelling and wrestling in the living room floor. Then again, Charlotte kicked his ass a few times as young ‘uns.
“Don’t matter to me.” As long as the kid looked like Bo.
At the end of their meal, Lucky asked their server, “Check, please.”
Her grin matched Bo’s. “It’s on the house. My boss overheard you talking about being dads, and saw the narrow-minded bigot storm out. He’s unemployed now, by the way.” Judging by her twinkling eyes, she wouldn’t miss him. “Luigi’s is a no-hate zone.” She lowered her voice. “Congratulations.”
As Bo and Lucky stood, so did everyone at the tables around them.
Their server met them at the door, two to-go trays in hand. “The couple at the next table treated you to dessert.”
It took him a moment to register the applause. They ambled out into the night to a chorus of “Congratulations!” from their fellow diners and the staff, who’d lined up by the cash register.
What the fuck? Were these people for real? Where was the hissing and spitting? The hellfire and brimstone sermons?
The tightness in Lucky’s chest might have been indigestion. Maybe.
An entire restaurant full of strangers thought he had this.
Maybe he did.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Lucky showered and dressed more carefully than usual, nerves jangling even more than when telling Bo about Charlotte’s news. He’d certainly never been this nervous to meet a guy, except for maybe Bo. Bo drove, leaving Lucky time to worry.
“Stop!” Bo snapped.
Lucky gave a sheepish shrug and dropped his hand back into his lap. He hadn’t been about to chew his fingernail. Nope, not at all.
Okay, maybe.
“You’re gonna do just fine.” Bo reached over and rested a hand on his knee. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”
No, but he hadn’t been in this particular saddle in a long, long time.
Bo guided him from the parking lot with a hand on his lower back, nodding and speaking to passersby. Lucky couldn’t spare the effort to snarl at their overly-perky greetings.
Neither said anything on the way up the elevator, and Bo gave an encouraging smile while helping Lucky to gown.
At last Lucky approached the rocking chair of doom. There might have been a smiling nurse involved somewhere, but all Lucky saw was a chair and a bassinet.
