Diversion 1 - Diversion (24 page)

Oh fuck. Im useless! Done gone and fell in love. Damn it. I do not need to be in love, especially if Bos only here to prove a point.
“Why did you come? And if the next words out of your mouth are „Walter sent me, I swear to God Ill lay you out in the floor, right here, right now. You may have learned a few things from me, but I can still kick your ass.” Lucky dropped his gaze to his coffee cup, hoping Bo wouldnt notice the mixed emotions spinning out of control in his soul.
“No, Walter didnt send me. As a matter of fact, I didnt tell him where I am. I asked for a few days off to handle some personal business.”
I wish youd handle me!
nearly slipped out. Lucky clamped his lips together before the words escaped.
Bos fingers tightened on Luckys. “Actually, ever since you left Ive had this song stuck in my head, and I cant remember the words.”
“Ya dont say.” Lucky didnt miss the momentary alarm in his former partners eyes when they locked onto the shaved part of his head, where the newly healed skin still itched like fire.
To the mans credit, he didnt ask the obvious question, instead, he said, “Yeah. What happens if she tells his achy, breaky heart?”
What? It took Lucky a moment to recall how hed tortured Bo via Billy Ray Cyruss hit. “I honestly dont know.”
“You dont? But you sang „Achy Breaky Heart all the time.”
“Only in the car with the iPod.”
“But…but…”
Despite his best intentions not to, Lucky smiled. “Im not a huge fan of country. Give me Skynyrd, Seger, and the Allmans. A little Gaga from time to time, some classical when the mood strikes. I only sang to work your nerves.”
“You what? You mean Ive been calling radio stations, dedicating that to you, hoping youd hear and realize I was searching for you, for nothing?”
Luckys smile fell, sheer horror replacing his mirth. “You didnt.”
Bos grin showed every last tooth in his head. “Gotcha!”
Lucky didnt know whether to be relieved or pissed. He settled for
Ill hear the man out.
In all seriousness, Bo said, “I cant tell you how bad it hurt, seeing you hauled off, broken and bleeding in that ambulance. I sat in the waiting room all night for you to come out of surgery.” He took his hand back to wipe at his eyes. “It almost killed me when I showed up to visit you, to find your room in ICU empty.” Closing his eyes, Bo exhaled a heavy breath. Luckys heart ached in sympathy. “And then, I saw Walter dry- eyed at your memorial service, and it finally clicked for me.”
He never realized how badly he might hurt Bo. If he had, he might have been tempted to give Walter a different answer. A lump clogged his throat. “Im sorry, Bo. I never once considered what this might do to you.”
“Its okay. That youre not dead is the important thing. I know why you did what you did. I also know that maybe Ishouldnt say this, but what we had…we were good together. Please tell me you felt it, too.”
In keeping with his new vow to be truthful whenever possible, Lucky replied. “We were good. And youve crossed my mind a time or two.”
There, I said it!
“When you left like you did, was it just to make a fresh start, or did you mean to leave me behind?” Those big brown eyes pleaded with him now.
“You dont need no two-bit, no account, ex-con hanging round, college boy. Go find yourself some nice lawyer, settle down, spend weekends at the club.”
Yeah, if thats what he needs, why do the words taste like lies coming out of my mouth?
“What if thats not what I
want
? Have you ever thought about that? And Mr. Whatever-the-hell-your-name-is-now, the way I understand it, Richmond Lucklighter is dead. Its in the papers. Whatever he did in his past is lying in the shallow, unmarked grave hes rumored to be resting in. That means youre no ex-con.” He pulled in a deep breath, averting his soulful eyes, his fight for composure obvious to someone used to reading body language as a survival skill. “I want you back, Lucky. Preferably as my partner at work as well as at home, but Ill take you any way I can get you. I need you; youre the only one who understands.”
Lucky half expected to hear, “Mr. Lucklighter? Wake up. Time for more meds.” He held his breath until he couldnt hold it anymore. “And youre sure Walter didnt put you up to this?”
“Im sure. Hed welcome you with open arms, though. Hell, even Art said hed give his eye teeth to have you back. He bawled like a baby at your memorial service.”
“Art actually said he wanted me back?” Lucky chewed on that little tidbit of information. “Keith?”
“Lets not go there. Oh, but „old faithful settled a bit of debt on that score.”
“Huh?”
“Also known as „the chair from hell. After you left someone gave the damned thing to me, but Id seen it nearly throw you a few times.” He did a damn fine impression of an evil-overlords “Muwhahahaaa…”
“What did you do?”
“Well, our friend Keith took an afternoon off and…” “You didnt.”
Bo nodded vigorously, grin broadening. “Yep. Your chair lived up to its spiteful reputation.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hitting a button and handing it over. Lucky gazed at the image of an upended chair, someones legs and feet sticking up in the air. A picture of Keiths wife and kids sat on a desk in the background. “I made copies for every bulletin board in the building. Anonymously, of course.”
If Lucky didnt already love the man, Bos giving Keith payback definitely plumped a cherry on top of a sweet deal.
He considered for a moment being back at work, having someone in his corner when it came to dealing with assholes. Next, he rolled the events of the last few weeks over in his head, struggling to sleep, waking up in an empty bed, finally slogging out the door around nine A.M. to sit at Starbucks. Trying and failing to grill portabellas properly. Drinking coffee and reading the paper in a crowded coffee shop because hed recently discovered a serious dislike for being alone. Lunch at a local diner, a mindless evening spent in front of the TV. The only time his pulse raced at all these days was when watching the evening news, or reading about some drug kingpins dethroning. Though hed rather face a firing squad than admit it, he missed putting scum out of business.
“If I came back, what about the „no fraternization thing? Do I have to keep my hands to myself while were on a stakeout?”
“After having experienced firsthand how interesting you can make surveillance, if you do keep your hands off me Ill request another partner.”
“What makes you think theyd let us be partners?”
“Walter would pretty much agree to anything to get you back. They need you, Lucky.
I
need you.”
As good as the man had become, he still needed to work on keeping his emotions off his face. With his strained smile he appeared to be one “no” away from heartbreak. Still, Lucky felt it best to issue a reality check. “Id better warn you, being legally dead hasnt changed me much. Im still an insufferable bastard.”
“Youre my insufferable bastard.”
“I drink milk from the jug.”
“I drink soy milk, remember? I have my carton, you have your jug.”
“I guzzle one hell of a lot of coffee.”
“Good. I bought Starbucks stock.”
“Youll never get to meet my folks.”
“Walter claims you; Ive already met him. And Im sure your sister is a whole lot friendlier without the shotgun.”
“I toss and turn in my sleep.”
“I can calm you down. Im your teddy bear, remember? Besides, its not like Ive never slept on a couch before.”
“I sing on stakeouts.”
Bo lurched away, feigned horror on his face. “Oh, hell, no! Sorry, but thats the deal breaker.”
Lucky swore his heart stopped.
Bo made a move to open the door, turning back around with one side of his mouth quirked up. “Not! Ill invest in ear plugs.”
Luckys heart started beating again. “You got an answer for everything, dont cha?”
“I learned from the best.”
Lucky reared back in his seat, considering. “When do you have to be back?”
“Monday.”
“Monday, huh? Four days?”
“Six. Todays Tuesday.”
Oh yeah. Maybe it is.
Luckyd always said, “If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is.” This time he added,
Fuck that. At least I know what Im getting into
. To Bo, he said, “Why dont we go back to my place?” He wriggled his brows. “In between getting reacquainted, you can call Walter and start making my demands.”
Bo released a huge, relievedsounding breath. “Sounds damned good to me.”
As they pulled out of the Starbucks parking lot, Bo added, “Oh, T-Rex? I brought the chaps…and my Christmas presents. Maybe Ill have to call in sick Monday.”

Captivated young by storytelling, Eden Winters earliest memories include spinning tales for the family's pets. Her dreams of writing professionally took a sojourn into non-fiction, with a twelve-year stint in technical documentation.

She began reading GLBT novels as a way to better understand the issues faced by a dear friend and fell in love with the M/M romance genre. During a discussion of a favorite book, a fellow aficionado said, "We could do this, you know." Good-bye gears, motors, and other authors characters; hello plots and sex scenes.

Somewhat of a nomad, Eden has visited seven countries so far. She currently calls the southern US home, and many of her stories take place in the rural South. Having successfully raised two children, she now balances the day job with hiking, rafting, spoiling her grandchildren, and stalking the wily falafel or elusive tofu pad thai at her favorite restaurants. Her musical tastes run from Ambient to Zydeco, and she's a firm believer that life is better with fur kids and Harley Davidsons.

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