Lucky Baby (Crescent Cove 11)

His hands slid down to cup my ass. “I wasn’t laughing. Just wanted to feel you on top of me again, Ruby.” He brushed his nose along mine. “I really liked when you rode me this morning.”

“All right. Enough of that.” And I would not focus on the fact that everything below my waist went liquid.

Even drunk, he was potent. Especially now that I knew what he was capable of.

“I always wanted to make out in this car. So rare for them to fit me.”

“Truck bed wasn’t enough for you?”

His eyes lost the glassy drunk gleam. Instead, they became painfully direct. “I’ll never get enough, Tish.”

He rarely said my name. Just when he was disappointed in me, and when he was slipping inside me with that ridiculously adept cock of his. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to his full lower lip. The top was a slash that gave his face so much character. From a grin to a snarl, his expressions always made me want to kiss him to shut him up.

Before I could lean in and do just that, a screen door slapped.

My head popped up, and I smiled at the older woman who came outside. “Can I help you? Oh, Lucky.” Her wrinkled hand went to her neck. “Who’s your lady friend?”

Lucky sighed quietly, then he craned his neck so he could see the woman. “Hey, Mrs. Newsome.” He moved his hand up to my waist. “This is my…Ruby.”

As I struggled to get off him, my knee slid a bit too close to the very happy Lucky Jr.

He hissed and lifted me off him. “Well, that’ll ruin the mood.”

Mrs. Newsome’s eyes danced. “Ruby. What a lovely name.”

“Tish.”

The older woman looked at Lucky then back at me. “You don’t know her name, Lucky?”

I pushed my hair out of the way. “He just insists on calling me Ruby. It’s fine.”

“Oh, already at the love names stage? How nice is that? Probably because of that gorgeous red hair of yours.” She patted her short, stone-gray hair. “I had red hair once upon a time. From a bottle though. Yours looks real.”

I slid onto the seat as Lucky finally maneuvered himself in a semi-seated position. It didn’t really work with his size.

“Oh, crap.” His eyes went wide. “Where’s Butch?”

“Why are you asking me? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

He clamped a hand on the back of his neck. “Fuck, I left my dog. I got drunk and left her and she’s probably wandering the streets, crying for Daddy.”

“That’s quite a picture,” Mrs. Newsome offered.

I bent until Lucky looked me in the eye. His eyes were wheeling a bit from panic. “When did you have her last?”

“On the roof. Drinking.”

“The dog?”

“No, me. Us. Though Bess came in the middle, after Caleb.” His rapid breathing slowed to a more manageable level. “My baby is with Bess. She has to be.” He started patting his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

It took him a minute, but he found it and texted Bess with his clumsy fingers. A moment later, he dropped his head to the back of the seat with a loud exhale. “She has her. She knew we were out of control and took her to her apartment to eat goldfish crackers and watch daytime TV.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Corrupting a young mind as we speak.”

“It’s not funny. I’m a bad dad. Bad dad,” he repeated sorrowfully enough I almost felt sorry for the oaf. “I’ll make it up to her. I’ll stop drinking and change my ways.”

“Fat chance there,” I muttered.