the mind. She deserved better.
“Yeah. He sorta has to. He’d catch hell otherwise. Why do people insist on running their kids’ lives? I wanna keep my baby safe, but if he finds someone one day who rocks his world, I’d be happy for him, no matter what color they were or where they came from.”
Okay. So far she’d not made any homophobic remarks about Bo and Lucky, not that it’d be wise to do so to her supervisor. Time to test the waters. She might set different standards for her own family. “What if he brought home a man?”
Johnson didn’t even bat an eye. “Then he better be good to my boy, or I’ll kick his ass.”
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“Hell, yeah. Love is love, baby, and sometimes we love who other folks think we shouldn’t.”
Phillip’s parents were idiots. “Johnson, if I were into women, I’d so take you home to Mama.”
She paused a minute, stared into Lucky’s eyes, handed him his coffee, and patted his cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul how nice you are. Now, get in. It’s colder’n a well digger’s butt out here.”
Home to Mama. Soon, Lucky would meet the closest woman Bo had to a mother. And fuck if he didn’t want to measure up. Casual fucks-and-forgets were a lot less complicated.
Lucky crawled into the passenger side of Johnson’s Jeep. She buckled in and pulled out into the street.
“What your man needs is a purpose in life.” The font of wisdom named Loretta Johnson kept one hand on the steering wheel and gestured with the other, coffee cup and all. “A way to feel useful. Right now he thinks he’s not good at anything and is a burden. Make him feel like you can’t live without him.”
Lucky took a sip of the cold coffee. Blech. Didn’t come close to Bo’s. “I’ve tried. He used to like cooking and cleaning. Hell, I even leave socks on the floor just to hear him bitch. But nothing. Not a word. He leaves dirty cups right where they are.”
“You’re confusing needing him and using him.” The bark returned to her voice.
What? “I do not use him!”
“But it’d be easy to do. He’s laid-back, not the type to argue much, and might take a whole lotta crap before he explodes.”
The old Bo, maybe, but the Cyrus Cooper hybrid model stood up for himself, or might if he could muster up a rat’s ass about anything.
Johnson kept her eyes on the road and her mouth running. “From what I’ve heard, he’s good at undercover work, which ought to make him feel useful. But Walter won’t risk him when he’s been under too long. You need to find another way. Does he have family around here?”
“An aunt and brother in Arkansas. But he doesn’t see them much. Too worried he’ll slip up around them, I suppose. He’s planning to visit for Thanksgiving, the first time he’ll see them since he started with the bureau.” Which made more sense now after finding out Bo had snapped and beaten a boyfriend. Christ, how badly had the man isolated himself for one simple moment beyond his control?
Bo repeated the process again and again, running when he most needed support. Like when he’d not allowed Lucky to visit in rehab. Now, stuck in Lucky’s duplex, he’d nowhere left to run… but to his mind. And it would take dynamite to blow down the doors.
“What should I do?” Right now Lucky would take all the help available and worry about his pride later.
“There has to be something or someone who needs him. Let me think about it.” She drained her coffee and tossed the cup over her shoulder into the back seat.
What would make Bo feel useful? And why didn’t he already? Lucky couldn’t survive without him…
But Lucky already had. He’d been to hell and back, served time, died, and had been reborn. In Bo’s eyes, maybe Lucky didn’t need him.
Time to do a bit of convincing.
***
Lucky packed up his laptop and joined the herd stampeding toward the elevator. He’d never been one to watch the clock and
“Yeah. He sorta has to. He’d catch hell otherwise. Why do people insist on running their kids’ lives? I wanna keep my baby safe, but if he finds someone one day who rocks his world, I’d be happy for him, no matter what color they were or where they came from.”
Okay. So far she’d not made any homophobic remarks about Bo and Lucky, not that it’d be wise to do so to her supervisor. Time to test the waters. She might set different standards for her own family. “What if he brought home a man?”
Johnson didn’t even bat an eye. “Then he better be good to my boy, or I’ll kick his ass.”
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“Hell, yeah. Love is love, baby, and sometimes we love who other folks think we shouldn’t.”
Phillip’s parents were idiots. “Johnson, if I were into women, I’d so take you home to Mama.”
She paused a minute, stared into Lucky’s eyes, handed him his coffee, and patted his cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul how nice you are. Now, get in. It’s colder’n a well digger’s butt out here.”
Home to Mama. Soon, Lucky would meet the closest woman Bo had to a mother. And fuck if he didn’t want to measure up. Casual fucks-and-forgets were a lot less complicated.
Lucky crawled into the passenger side of Johnson’s Jeep. She buckled in and pulled out into the street.
“What your man needs is a purpose in life.” The font of wisdom named Loretta Johnson kept one hand on the steering wheel and gestured with the other, coffee cup and all. “A way to feel useful. Right now he thinks he’s not good at anything and is a burden. Make him feel like you can’t live without him.”
Lucky took a sip of the cold coffee. Blech. Didn’t come close to Bo’s. “I’ve tried. He used to like cooking and cleaning. Hell, I even leave socks on the floor just to hear him bitch. But nothing. Not a word. He leaves dirty cups right where they are.”
“You’re confusing needing him and using him.” The bark returned to her voice.
What? “I do not use him!”
“But it’d be easy to do. He’s laid-back, not the type to argue much, and might take a whole lotta crap before he explodes.”
The old Bo, maybe, but the Cyrus Cooper hybrid model stood up for himself, or might if he could muster up a rat’s ass about anything.
Johnson kept her eyes on the road and her mouth running. “From what I’ve heard, he’s good at undercover work, which ought to make him feel useful. But Walter won’t risk him when he’s been under too long. You need to find another way. Does he have family around here?”
“An aunt and brother in Arkansas. But he doesn’t see them much. Too worried he’ll slip up around them, I suppose. He’s planning to visit for Thanksgiving, the first time he’ll see them since he started with the bureau.” Which made more sense now after finding out Bo had snapped and beaten a boyfriend. Christ, how badly had the man isolated himself for one simple moment beyond his control?
Bo repeated the process again and again, running when he most needed support. Like when he’d not allowed Lucky to visit in rehab. Now, stuck in Lucky’s duplex, he’d nowhere left to run… but to his mind. And it would take dynamite to blow down the doors.
“What should I do?” Right now Lucky would take all the help available and worry about his pride later.
“There has to be something or someone who needs him. Let me think about it.” She drained her coffee and tossed the cup over her shoulder into the back seat.
What would make Bo feel useful? And why didn’t he already? Lucky couldn’t survive without him…
But Lucky already had. He’d been to hell and back, served time, died, and had been reborn. In Bo’s eyes, maybe Lucky didn’t need him.
Time to do a bit of convincing.
***
Lucky packed up his laptop and joined the herd stampeding toward the elevator. He’d never been one to watch the clock and
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