Diversion 1 - Diversion (16 page)

“I can drive myself; Im not helpless.” Bo glared over breakfast, making Lucky fight a laugh. He supposed it was hard to make a case for independence while wearing an ugly green apron to match the ugly green kitchen.

“Yeah, but Im heading across town anyway.” A flash of inspiration hit, nearly blinding in its sheer brilliance. “Besides, I need to make an appointment. Why not do it in person?”

Bo paused in mid-rant, face providing an amusing, highly animated show as various anger, surprise, confusion, “Thats true.” In a move Lucky supposed meant to redeem some to the indignity of wearing a god-awful apron, he snapped, “But no making out in front of my boss! Do you have any idea the kind of expressions warred for dominance: petulance, and finally, acceptance. hell I caught at work? Be…that woman grinning at me every time she came into the pharmacy? And judging from the way the techs kept snickering, she didnt keep our little PDA to herself.”

He harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest, pushing up his biceps and further inducing Luckys laugh instinct.
What do you get when you cross a pit bull with Julia Child?

Heading off a pissing contest they didnt have time fo r, Lucky praised a fine meal with a loud belch and rose from the table. “Come on; times awastin.” He smiled sweetly, knowing Bo would want to smack the smirk off his face.

Feeling charitable, Lucky played Lady Gaga at normal volumes on the ride through Kissimmee to outlying Orlando, unwilling to admit out loud that Bo made one heck of a backup singer.

Far too soon for Luckys tastes, they arrived at the clinic. Throwing the shifter into park, Lucky bolted out of the car and around the hood to open Bos door the moment Dr. Ryerson approached. “Oh my. I wish I had a man who opened doors for me,” she commented in passing.

Bo shot the best “go to hell” death glare Lucky had ever seen. And given how many times hed witnessed variations of the particular unspoken sentiment, that was saying something. He raced ahead of the doctor, opening the clinic door and holding it for both her and Bo. The doctor giggled, Bos face flamed. Lucky swore he heard grinding teeth.

“Now you have a good day, dear,” he murmured loudl y enough for everyone in the lobby (limited to employees at the moment) to hear, swatting Bo low on the back. His finger accidentally on purpose connected with Bos bubble-butt.

Bos expression bordered on murderous. Dr. Ryerson unwittingly put herself inharms way, stepping between the two. “All right, lovebirds, tone it down. This is a family-oriented business.” Her tinkling laughter took any potential sting from the words.

Bo stalked off toward a door marked “Pharmacy,” smoke nearly pouring from him. Ryersons eyes filled with concern. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Ah, dont mind him, hell be okay. Hes still a little steamed about my old boyfriend being back in town.” Let her share
that
with the pharmacy techs,
crank my sex god status up a notch or two.

Conc ern escalated to disapproval. “Dont tell me you let him believe…”
“Oh, no!” Lucky backtracked…hard. “Id never do that. Will knows hes my one and only, but hes got a jealous streak the size of Texas.”
The doctor relaxed a bit. “I know what you mean. The man Im seeing has the exwife from hell…” She let her words trail off, but not before Lucky saw a brief flash of annoyance cross her well madeup face. Ah, the kitten had claws, and maybe the boyfriend or exwife werent the only jealous ones. Ryerson quickly changed the subject. “I supposed youre here to make an appointment, right?”
“Yes, maam.” He nodded, slipping on his harmless good ole boy persona like a well-fitting jacket.
Wrapping her taloned fingers around Luckys bicep, the petite blonde led him over to the reception desk. “Stella, youve met the new pharmacist the ladies are going crazy over?”
They are?
Luckys eyes narrowed of their own accord as he discovered his own jealous streak.
The pony-tailed woman glanced up from her computer screen, running assessing eyes over Lucky. “Dont tell me this is the lucky guy who removed “Will-licious” from the dating pool?”
Dr. Ryerson chuckled. “Thatd be the one.”
Will-licious?
Lucky growled, unused to having the tables turned on him like that. Normally,if any laughing went on, hed be the instigator, not the butt of the joke. And wasnt it unprofessional to call a coworker, or worse, an employee, “Will-licious?”
“Well, if Im
lucky
, hes luckier,” Lucky said, trying lamely to regain control of the situation. “Im one hell of a catch. How many tall, dark, and handsome men are there?”
The two women stopped laughing, sharing a puzzled glance and then raking twin gazes over Luckys blond-haired, blue-eyed, structurally impaired self. While hed never been called a troll, at least to his face, hed never been accused of being a hunk either. He waited for it, gauging the perfect moment to spring his punch line. “Exactly! Theyre a dime a dozen. But beat-up all-American shrimps like me are a rare find!”
The women snorted inelegantly, neither appearing fully convinced that the weak attempted humor merited a snicker. For a moment Lucky missed Walter. Mr. Ill-laugh-at-anything would double over with a bad case of the guffaws.
“Anyway,” Ryerson said, returning to the business at hand. “Larry needs an appointment, and Id like you to schedule him with me. Does that suit you?” Her blue-eyed gaze peered up from beneath heavily mascarad lashes that she had the nerve to bat.
Bark up the wrong tree much, lady?
“Ummm…you dont have to trouble yourself none.” Was this something she normally did for employees family members?
“Oh, no trouble. No trouble at all. Were one big happy family here.” Her winking blue eye mesmerized him, luring him in with the same fascination Unfortunately for her, mongoose, a mongoose totally immune to feminine guiles. However, as he watched, he noticed a bit of strain around her mouth and eyes, a flickering of something slithery beneath the surface.
An act. Shes putting on an act. Why?
A small area by her left eye twitched. His blood ran cold and he recalled why Charlotte now lived on the west coast, far away from where shed started. Ryersons calculating evaluation reminded him a little too much of his mood-swinging former brother-in-law. She wanted Lucky for her patient, and she damned well intended to get him.
“I reckon I wouldnt be a gentleman if I said no to an offer like that,” he replied, pouring on his own version of charm.
Gentleman? Ha!
Ten minutes later, after meeting more people whose names he hadnt a prayer of remembering, he reeled out to the parking lot and retreated to the safety of the Mazda. His mind spun with random names and faces that simply refused to match up. How the hell did so many people work in that one damned building? Hed accomplished several goals, however. Apparently, hed been welcomed into the fold, and he clutched an appointment card in a sweaty hand—his pass into Ryersons inner sanctum.
When he returned home, he fired up his laptop, sending a message to his sister, Ryerson inadvertently reminding him that he hadnt written this week.
of a small mammal watching a cobra. she practiced her reptilian wiles on a

Char,
In case I havent told you lately, I love you and the boys. Rich

He plunged back into researching Ryerson, determined to find out what made her tick. Only once did Bo text, “U there?”
Lucky punched out a response. “@ home. Nekkid.”
“Bastard.”
“U sweet talk r, u. Flattery gets u evrywhere.”
After a few moments his phone chimed again, with the message,“LOL. Member u said that.”

Lucky woke up one morning, surprised to find Bo lying against him, curled into his back. He bolted upright. Oh shit! They were both late!

Bo mumbled, words ground out against the mattress, “Its Saturday,Arts watching the doc. We get to sleep in.”
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Lucky glanced at the clock. 9:00 A.M. Damn, hed slept. He lay back down but, like it or not, he was wideawake. And hard. “Um…Bo?”
“Touch me before ten and die.”
They rolled out of bed at twelve-thirty, both a little worse for the wear.

“What you wanna do today?” Lucky stared out the window at a bright, sunny day.
“Go for a run?”
“Too hot.”
“Drive to Daytona and hit the beach?”
“Too cool. And besides, were supposed to stay in the area in case were needed.”
Bo turned on the TV and flopped down on the worn couch, flipping through channels. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“Too boring. Besides, its a nice day out.”
“But you dont want to run, you dont want to swim. What do
you
want to do?”
“We already did it. Twice.”
“What
else
do you wanna do, horn dog?”
“I thought youd never ask.” Lucky grabbed his laptop, shoving Bos legs out of the way to sit side by side on the couch.
Bo studied the screen and let out a noise dangerously close to a squeal. “Get out! You do
not
watch
South Bend Springs!”
“You tell it at the office and Ill deny it with my dying breath.”
“Tell? Why the hell would I tell anyone?” Bo nestled closer, resting his chin on Luckys shoulder. “Have they found out who Lilas baby daddy is? Oh wait! Shouldnt we make a beer and pizza run first?”

“What?” Lucky cracked open an eyelid, glaring at his partner. “Its Sunday, Im sleeping in.”
“Oh, no youre not. We wasted the whole day yesterday watching soaps. Today, we clean.”
Lucky raised his head high enough to assess the room with blurred vision. From his position in bed, he spotted two pairs of jeans, a pair of shoes, a shirt or two—all his—and what might have been the entire contents of his sock drawer. The nightstand sported three beer cans. One by one he picked them up and shook them, disappointed to find them empty. “Did you make coffee? It tastes like something died in my mouth.”
Bo sniggered. “I dont know about died but something
came
in your mouth. Twice.”
Growling didnt work with a hangover. A coffee cup appeared before his nose, the welcome fragrance of whatever Bo brewed every morning clearing out some brain fog.
Rolling to his side and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, Lucky nearly tripped over a pizza box. “Damn! Whatd we do last night?”
“You have to ask? Maybe I should get Keith to install some cameras.”
“Dont you fucking dare.” Bo was having way too much fun with this. Lucky held out his hand, taking the cup and swilling down half the contents. The coffee burned down his throat.
“Drink up, take a shower and some Advil, and clean this room.” Bo patted Luckys aching head. “Ill get the kitchen and living room. You do your bathroom, Ill do mine, and Ill wash and dry clothes if you fold and put away.”
At the moment all Lucky cared about was getting Mr. Perky out of his way and lying back down to sleep off his headache. He should have known better, for the moment his head hit the pillow, Billy Ray Cyrus wailed at full volume from the living room stereo, “Dont tell my heart…”
“Theres a reason that mans single,” Lucky muttered, kicking debris out of the way to get to the bathroom.

Bo, apparently getting used to Luckys constant need to rattle his cage at every opportunity, continued calming stirring his oatmeal. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being treated like a grownup?”

“Im heading up to Georgia to investigate the reverse distribution operation.”
Bo raised his eyes—eyes sparkling with interest. “Oh, really? Id love to see inside one of those places. In pharmacy school we learned about the supply chain, but its hard to imagine the start to finish process unless youve been there. And while Ive toured manufacturing plants, Ive never seen product actually destroyed. We pack outdates in a box and someone comes and gets them. End of story.”
“Ill be sure to take lots of pictures.” Lucky tried for a disarming smile. Based on his breakfast companions wrinkled- nosed disgust, he missed the target completely. He let the matter drop for now. Truth was, he dreaded being gone overnight, sleeping in a bedwithout Bos calming presence. “I wont be home tonight,” he groused, gratified at his partners slight wince.
“Im sure Ill survive. Only, do me a favor?”
“Maybe.”
“Dont drink too much caffeine? Its bad for you.”
“Gee. I didnt know you cared.”
Bo muttered, “Of course I care,” around a mouthful of oatmeal raisin mush. Or maybe hed said, “Take care.”
“I should be back tomorrow night.” Lucky stumbled for appropriate parting words. Somehow, “Later, dude!” fell short of a proper goodbye to his… partner? Fuck buddy? Not-an-actualfriend-but-still-gets-benefits?
Jeez, man. Get a grip. Youll only be gone one night!
“Need help packing?” In the brightly lit kitchen, Bos eyes glowed with an inner fire. A wall clock ticked off the moments, Lucky feeling hed missed something he should be doing, Bo waiting expectantly for him to figure it out and follow through.
In the end, he managed a lame, “No, I got it, thanks. Ill see you when I get back.” He turned and forced himself not to run away. Cursing himself for a coward, he hid in his room until the rumble of Bos Escort faded into the distance. He made a circuit through the house before leaving, wondering why it suddenly felt lonely.

Four hours later, his ride lengthened by stops for coffee and a resulting visit to a rest stop, Lucky found the hotel where hed spend the night. His nerves jangled and a sense of restlessness crept into his arms and legs, not to mention a headache throbbed with every heartbeat. And though hed measured out the sugar himself at Starbucks, his normal brew of choice tasted more like sickly sweet syrup than coffee.

He trotted to the hotel office to obtain a key and a large, square package, which he threw onto the queen bed once in his room. Depression crept in, knowing hed be sleeping alone tonight, especially after satisfying his curiosity about Elledges drug disposal operation. Uncovering other peoples dirt usually provided a keen sense of satisfaction, and the rush of entering the snake pit without getting bitten always left him with the hard-on from hell. Plus, hed have an eager audience for his exploits in Bo, whod hang on every word, tossing out the occasional question and giving Lucky a chance to be the smart one.