Sometime in the night he acquired a man in his bed. Lucky shrugged off sleep long enough to pat the arm flung over his chest and drift off again.
An empty bed greeted him in the morning. Had he merely dreamed Bo came home? But no, a crumpled shirt hid his in the hamper. He eased the nursery door open and peeked inside. Apparently, Bo wasn’t the only early riser.
Lucky slipped a pair of jeans over the boxers he’d slept in and scratched his chest and yawned, then made his way into the living room.
Bo sat on the couch in sweatpants and a T-shirt, laptop on one nicely muscled thigh and Andro on the other. Occasionally he angled the giggling, keyboard-banging tyke away from the laptop.
“I’ll take him.” Lucky picked up the solid weight that was their son and held him aloft. Andro gurgled, kicking his legs and drooling. Two barely-there teeth peeked up through his bottom gums. “Did he wake you?”
“I was already up.” Bo yawned and lifted a cup of tea from the coffee table. He polished off the last dregs and scrunched his face. “Gah,” he said, mouth wide and tongue out. “It’s gone cold.”
“Want me to get you a refill?” Keeping a firm grip on his squirming son, Lucky bent and gave Bo a good morning kiss.
“No, that’s okay,” Bo murmured against Lucky’s lips. “I’d rather have you.” He grinned and swatted Lucky’s ass.
Lucky grinned back. “Don’t start nothing you ain’t gonna finish.”
Bo waggled his brows. “The kid’s got to take a nap sometime.”
Lucky strode back and forth in front of the couch, bouncing Andro in his arms. “What time did you get in last night?”
“Too late,” Bo replied on a yawn, still studying the laptop screen. “The meeting went over, as usual.”
How Lucky would love to ask more about the mysterious meeting, but Bo climbing above Lucky’s pay grade—and meeting with more people above Lucky’s pay grade—meant his partner couldn’t tell him. Too much like keeping secrets for Lucky’s tastes.
In his head he understood—there were cases he’d kept from Bo—but he couldn’t help feeling left out. Bo was in his prime, climbing the ladder, still pretty much intact after his time with SNB.
In the short years they’d been together, Lucky’d been shot, done permanent injury to an ankle, lost two fingers and a chunk of liver…
Better for Bo to wear the suit and tie and meet with corporate types than slink down the alleys Lucky frequented, trailing body parts along the way.
Andro snuggled into Lucky’s neck, squirming and blowing raspberries. Yeah, a half-hour with the drool-factory and he’d need a shower.
A black and white blob with a tail lay on the back of the couch, ignoring the world with his eyes closed. Even from a distance of three feet, Cat Lucky’s grumbling purr reached Lucky’s ears.
Bo and Lucky used to own a dog, until they’d gutted the attached garage and built Charlotte her own small apartment. Now they occasionally caught a glimpse of white fur in the back yard, but the traitorous beast long ago gave up any pretense of living with them.
At least they still had Ty staying in the house, and Lucky strongly suspected Andro was the lure that kept him there.
Andro held Ty’s heart in one pudgy little hand. Once the baby came, Ty might give up on college plans completely to be their fulltime nanny.
Lucky liked kids, but he’d better warn Ty’s girlfriend Chelsea that if they ever got married, Ty might insist on a large family.
What if their kids turned out like Chelsea’s father, Keith, the office asshole?
Brr… No. Just…no.
If Ty hadn’t had school this morning, he’d doubtless have had his favorite cousin in his lap while playing video games.
Bo smiled up at Lucky, blinking sleepy eyes, and stretched as best he could with a lapful of computer. “I tried not to wake you up. You need your sleep.” He patted the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”
Lucky squeezed in next to Bo, possibly closer than actually necessary, and noticed what occupied the computer screen. Names. Lots and lots of names. Along with a list of famous people with the name, the origin, and what the name meant in different cultures.
Andro grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. Lucky merely turned his head and tuned out his son’s trying to stand in his lap by using his hair as a pull up.
“Da, da, da, da, pffffft.”
“I agree, Andro.” Bo coaxed the hand away from Lucky’s hair in favor of his finger. “Papa does make a good climbing wall.”