“Eva Peron.”
“Emily?”
“Emily Dickenson.”
“Rachel.”
“Character from Friends.” She patted her belly with her free hand. “But this is your kid. My opinion doesn’t matter.”
Charlotte? Not voice an opinion? Who was this woman and what had she done with Lucky’s sister? “Not even as Auntie?” C’mon. Charlotte Lucklighter had an opinion about everything and wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Well, I helped pick the name for Dallas’s little girl, but she’s named for Mom.” Charlotte glanced at Lucky, an apology in her eyes. During the time Lucky’s family shunned him, his brother returned any gifts Lucky sent, and even now, Lucky only saw his niece on rare occasions. To her, he wasn’t Uncle Lucky. Not yet, at least. Charlotte disappeared back into the kitchen.
Bo closed his laptop the third time Andro hit the keyboard, and set it aside to make baby talk, which caused Andro to laugh.
Lucky and Bo, playing with their child. Who’d have ever thought? Clanging from the kitchen announced his sister’s whereabouts, since she preferred for them to start the day together rather than eat breakfast alone in her little kitchenette. Soon she’d holler, “Breakfast is ready!”
Please let Bo have made the coffee. You’d think someone who didn’t drink the stuff wouldn’t make it so good. Biscuits and coffee, known in the family as hockey pucks and paint thinner when touched by Charlotte’s hands.
Bless her heart.
Cooking skills aside, Lucky, Bo, Alejandro, Ty, Charlotte and baby made the perfect little family.
The perfect, domestic moment.
Perfect moments ended, and the reality of Lucky’s job waited outside the door. With work in an hour and at least one man who wanted Lucky dead out there somewhere, domestic bliss couldn’t last.
Why did adulting have to be so hard?
