Page 18 of Fire and Smoke (Nothing Special #9)

God

Inside the quiet walls of his home, God was finally able to take a breath. Not the short, tight ones he had in the office…but a peaceful, settling one.

The city still roared and rampaged outside, but he had to take solace at some point or else he’d go crazy.

God had his sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scarred hands deep in a sink full of soapy water as he rinsed seared garlic from a pan.

Across the kitchen, Day stood barefoot in a pair of lounge pants, in front of the stove, humming to a jazz record playing on his antique turntable in the living room while stirring a skillet of red sauce simmering on the burner.

God took his cell from his back pocket, tapped his brother’s contact, and pressed the speaker button. When Genesis answered, God propped the phone on the windowsill.

“Damn, man, about time you called me back.”

“S’up, Gen.”

“You sound tired, bro.”

God didn’t respond. Of course he was tired.

“All right then, I won’t ask about work. How’s Day?”

“Actually, work isn’t terrible. I got two new additions…consultants.”

“Really?” Genesis perked up. “Who? They must be insane.”

“I guess you can say that. They did shock the hell outta me today.”

“Spit it out. Who are they?”

“Two pyrotechs.”

Genesis was quiet.

God chuckled as he rinsed the last serving spoon and put it in the rack.

“Their names are Drake and Sheppard, but they go by—”

“What the hell? Are you telling me you have the Wes and Law on your team, the special effects maniacs!”

God dried his hands and leaned against the counter, watching his husband put the finishing touches on their dinner while swaying to the music.

He bit his bottom lip as his body reacted.

“The same guys who did Ashfall Run , Kill Switch , Eclipse Zone —”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Gen. I just know they grew up in Atlanta and came back here after they—”

“I know, I know. It’s fuckin’ awesome they’re both from Atlanta. They grew up together, went to school together, then ended up in Hollywood together. But the real question is, how the hell did they end up working for you? Did they join the police academy when they left LA?”

“Um, to be honest…they saved my life.”

“I was in the car too, y’know,” Day said under his breath, but not low enough that he didn’t hear him.

Before God could respond, Gen kept rambling.

“What?! How? When? You were almost killed and didn’t tell me.”

“You know I don’t do that. I don’t want you or Mom worrying all the time.”

“Just tell me what happened, Cash.”

“Instead of me retelling one of the scariest moments of my life, I’ll just have Free send you the footage.”

“Never mind, I don’t wanna see it.”

“Like I thought.”

“And so, what…? You saw that Wes and Law are fuckin’ badasses and told them to join your insanely dangerous narcotics task force, and they said yes.”

“Kinda sorta. I may have given them an offer they couldn’t refuse…more so weren’t allowed to refuse.”

Genesis pfftd. “I don’t know how the hell you always get what you want, no matter how impossible it is.”

“I’m fighting a meth war, and the opposition are chemists… I need two men who understand that language and can show us how to fight back. And yeah, them being a little bit crazy helps.”

“Curtis and I just rewatched Fallout Horizon last night. You seriously don’t know any of their movies? Terminal Velocity was epic, Cash.”

“I don’t get much time to go to the movies, Gen.”

“Tell me about it,” Day muttered as he yanked his dish towel off his shoulder.

God frowned.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Gen said. “There’s a ton of video clips on YouTube and IG of them doing some awesome shit. You should Google them.”

“I got all the information I needed from their jackets, bro. They have no felonies, so that’s all I need to know about them.”

“Uhhhh, I don’t think you know what kinda characters you’ve recruited, Cash,” Gen sang. “Trouble clings to these guys like flies to shit. Do you really need a Ruxs-and-Green couple times ten added to your already stressful life? This could blow up in your face…literally.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence. Let’s hope I don’t have to keep them long.”

“Before they leave, you gotta let me meet them. For real. They’re geniuses. The explosive effects they did in Heat Check set an all-new bar. There’s this alley scene in there—”

“Gen, I’m getting a headache.”

“Okay, well, you and Day should have a movie night and binge their stuff.”

“I’ll be asleep before the opening scene starts.”

“He’s not lying,” Day said on his way past to put their plates on the table.

God didn’t know what was up with Day’s attitude. He’d been murmuring shit under his breath since they’d left the office.

“Hi, Leo!” Gen called out.

“Hey, Gen. Tell Curtis I said hi.”

“He’s working late tonight, but I have a surprise for him. I got us tickets to this midnight Medieval Times dinner and tournament he’s been wanting to see.”

God grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat at the table across from Day, who’d already started eating.

“Don’t you have to work early?”

“Yeah,” Gen sighed. “But it’s worth the lack of sleep to make him happy.”

“That’s very selfless of you, Genesis. I’m sure Curtis appreciates that,” Day glared at him.

“Gen, I gotta go,” he growled.

“Wait, wait, can you get me an autograph if I send a poster to—”

God hung up.

He stared at his husband for a long moment, but now he was purposefully not looking in his direction.

“Something on your mind, Leo?” he asked, loading a mound of noodles on his fork.

“Nope.”

God shook his head as Day stabbed at a meatball.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Gen and Curtis are in their car driving this way by morning.” He grinned, trying to warm the cold shoulder he was getting. “Because I’m not about to ask Law and Wes for a damn autograph.”

“If that’s what Gen wants, I’m sure Curtis will do it.”

God paused, chewing slowly. “Mm-hmm.”

Day took a long sip of his red wine, his gaze focused on his plate.

God blew out a frustrated breath and leaned back in his chair.

“What, Leo? Just say it. You know I can’t stand that passive-aggressive shit.”

Day dropped his fork with a loud clink against his plate.

“Fine, I’ll say it. It’s a Friday night, Cash, and we’re sitting here eating spaghetti and meatballs like we live in a retirement village.”

“What is it you wanna do?”

“Free and Hart invited us to dinner at that drag show downtown, and you answered no for both of us without even asking if I wanted to go.”

God let out a sarcastic laugh. “Hart didn’t even wanna go. He’s only going because—”

“Because Free loves those shows and he’s doing it for him .” Day glared. “Because a night of ridiculous entertainment is at least a small reprieve from the constant evil shit we deal with every day.”

“Day, I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass week. I don’t wanna go to some loud-ass club.”

“I had the same fuckin’ week, but you made me come home and cook instead of going out.”

“It’s not like I went in the den, kicked my feet up, and waited for you to serve me.” God threw his hands up. “I did the dishes!”

“Oh, you did the dishes,” Day droned, clapping dramatically. “Why am I sitting here when I should be on the phone with the Nobel Prize committee?”

God scowled. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Day, I said no because I’ve got work in the morning. I can’t go into the office smelling like cheap vodka, strawberry glitter, and bad choices.”

“You don’t have to go in on Saturdays, Cash. Going over reports can wait until Monday. We have an entire support staff that can do that. You go because that’s what you wanna do.”

“Don’t do that.” God pushed his plate away, his appetite fading along with his patience.

“Why? That’s all you care about. Fighting crime non-fuckin’-stop, like you’re fuckin’ Steven Seagal or some shit.

” Day got up with his near-full plate and dumped it into the sink with a loud clatter.

“Everyone else has a damn life. Ruxs and Green, Steele and Tech, hell even Fox found a way to protect and serve in a way that doesn’t involve dodging bullets, diving headfirst to the pavement, wrestling three hundred-pound men, or getting set on fire! ”

God stayed seated long after Day stormed out of the kitchen. It was too quiet when he was gone. The silence made the seconds drag by.

He pushed away from the table, took his plate to the sink, and rinsed his and Day’s plates before putting them in the dishwasher. His actions were mechanical, as his head pounded.

Damn, it’d been a long fucked-up week of meeting after meeting, with everyone from the deputy mayor to the department head of internal affairs gunning for him about his new recruits. And now this.

He hated when Day was upset. He was the light and peace in his very dark and dangerous world. And when he wasn’t happy…

God rubbed hard at his temples, which only made his headache worse.

By the time the kitchen was spotless and he’d ensured the doors were locked and the alarm was set, all the lights were already off in his bedroom.

There was a soft glow spilling from beneath the bathroom door. God shed his clothes and went in that direction.

Day was in the Jacuzzi tub, earbuds in, eyes closed, with the back of his head resting on a thick towel. Steam rose off his chest, skin slick and delectable. He looked so calm, but God knew he was anything but.

He sat on the edge of the tub, then reached over and pulled out one of Day’s earplugs.

“Can I get in with you?”

Day didn’t open his eyes. “I’m about to get out.”

God sat there a second longer, naked and frustrated, before he went to the shower and got in.

The hot water did nothing to ease his tense muscles or warm the frigid air between him and his husband.

When he went back into the bedroom, Day was already under the covers, his back to him, scrolling on his phone.

He slid under the sheets and eased in close behind Day, snaking his arm around his waist.

He kissed him gently along the back of his neck and over the curve of his shoulder, his cock already half-hard at the feel of Day’s hot skin.

“You said you were tired, Cash,” Day bit out, not turning around. “Get some rest.”

God gaped as Day slammed his phone down on the nightstand, turned off the lamp, and buried himself deeper under the blankets.

After staring in disbelief for several minutes, he rolled onto his back, threw his arm over his forehead, and stared at the slow rotation of the ceiling fan until he fell asleep.