Page 57 of Fire and Smoke (Nothing Special #9)

God

It’d been four weeks since they’d taken down Mercer, and his task force was still under audit.

And surprisingly, he didn’t give a fuck.

He and Day had slept in, sometimes until noon, making love and watching stupid morning game shows.

They’d had more time to visit with family and friends, and repair things in their home.

He was almost out of activities, and he’d had enough of binge-watching TV shows, Day trying to teach him how to cook, and DIY home renovations. He’d recently built a model train, and Day had alphabetized the pantry.

Okay, he admitted, they were bored out of their fucking minds.

But he did still look forward to Ruxs and Green’s Friday poker night.

He was leaning on a picnic table in the middle of the block party, holding Day from behind.

His stomach was growling at the scent of grilled meat, roasted corn, and funnel cake. There were so many food trucks lining both sides of the streets—tacos, ribs, jerk chicken, Korean barbecue, monstrous turkey legs, ice cream, and fresh-squeezed lemonade—that he couldn’t make up his mind.

The street was closed off for two blocks in celebration of the new Briarcliff Heights apartment building renovation and the families who’d been rehoused, thanks to the task force’s nationwide GoFundMe.

Families sat at folding tables piled with food. Kids ran wild through the crowd with face paint and balloon animals. Near the intersection was a maze of bounce houses, sagging under the mass of kids.

Vendors sold everything from custom-made jewelry, T-shirts, candles to Mary Kay cosmetics.

God watched a local band performing on the main stage, as Day leaned back into him, slowly winding his hips to the beat.

Day grinned at him over his shoulder. “You gonna dance with me or just stand there pressing your cock against my ass?”

“You’re the one grinding against me like you’re auditioning for Thunder Down Under.”

Day glared over his shoulder. “Have you still been watching those videos?”

God was about to answer when a reporter came up and damn near shoved her microphone up his nose.

“Lieutenant Godfrey! How did your task force manage to get the Briar Heights building remodeled so quickly?”

God exhaled. “We had a lot of good folks helpin’. And of course the anonymous donation of seventy grand, put us over the top.”

The reporter’s eyebrows shot up.

God shrugged. “Surprised the fuck outta me too.”

“And you don’t know who it was?” She grinned.

God cocked his head to the side, glaring at the women as if she’d just asked the dumbest question he’d ever heard.

Day was already chuckling.

“Anonymous means they don’t want anyone to know it was them.”

The reporter flushed, clearing her throat before she pulled her microphone back.

“How long do you think your task force’s audit will last—”

“If you don’t mind, I really just wanna enjoy tonight without a bunch of bureaucratic work shit.”

“Of course. Well, enjoy your evening, lieutenants.”

Day shook his head at him when he was done. “You need to work on your diplomacy skills, Cash.”

“I thought I was eloquent.”

“Babe, there’s a lot of adjectives I use to describe you, but eloquent is not one.”

God took Day’s hand and led them through the dense crowd to a striped tent where Genesis and Curtis were staffing a table with a bright-red banner that read: Sign Up for your Local Rec Center .

Stacks of flyers covered the table. Gen was tossing a football with a few teenagers while Curtis was surrounded by a cluster of kids and parents, discussing the benefits of joining a center or the Atlanta Boys and Girls Club.

Curtis smiled and flashed his dimples at every kid who asked him a question.

Sometimes, it amazed him that Curtis had turned out the way he had, after being raised by two of the city’s biggest hellraisers. Ruxs and Green had fucked up a lot, but they did get one thing very right.

Their adopted son.

“Hey, Curtis. Thanks again for coming and helpin’ out today.”

God held his hands up for his brother to toss him the ball, and the moment he did, his brother beamed it at his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

God coughed. “Seriously? I told you it wasn’t my fault you didn’t meet Wes and Law.”

Gen scowled. “You wouldn’t let me come because you said you were busy with the op, and you said—hold on, let me quote—‘I’m not letting you interrupt their training with your fangirling.’”

God shrugged.

“And when they finally finished, two of the sexiest Hollywood gods left town before I even got to say hi!”

“Gen, they weren’t here for a fan convention.”

“You always have to control everything, don’t you?”

God smirked. “Yeah…haven’t you heard…? I’m God.”

Gen flung a dismissive hand in the air. “Fuck off, fuckin narcissist.”

“There are kids around!” Curtis snapped at him and Gen. “Watch your mouths or take your silly argument over there.”

People around them seemed to think they were entertaining. No matter where he and Day roamed, there was a crowd.

Ruxs and Green strolled over, both carrying paper boats piled with curly fries and wings.

“Curtis!” Green shouted. “We’re comin’ down next month and staying for the whole summer.”

Curtis smiled, taking Green’s food from him and helping himself, but Gen’s eyes widened, going pale as if he was about to be sick.

They hung out until dark fell. The music got louder and the beer trucks had much longer lines as the block party turned up several notches.

God lounged at a table with his brother and Hart. Their entire team was there, and he liked how relaxed they looked after the time off.

Day turned and gave him a slight wink while he chatted with Callum and his husband near the stage.

“Where the hell did Curtis go?” Gen asked, scanning the still-large crowd.

Before God could answer, the sky exploded into a brilliant array of colors.

The first barrage of fireworks flew high overhead, but these weren’t just normal fireworks. They split open into a massive burst of neon blue, red, and gold—Atlanta’s official colors.

The crowd went crazy.

Another set spiraled like spinning wheels, throwing showers of gold sparks that rippled down the sky like curtains.

Then came the smoke…

Billowing clouds of red, white, yellow, and then silver rose behind the explosions. Crackling comet tails streaked through the haze, leaving trails of glittering embers.

His team figured it out faster than the audience. It was Wes and Law, and the crowd began to chant their names.

The cheers were almost as loud as the window-rattling booms.

A series of fireworks burst in perfect symmetry, spraying peacock-fan shapes of emerald and sapphire light that seemed to hover in the sky before dissolving into diamond-like dust.

Ribbons of smoke twisted into tight spirals, then burst outward like blooming flowers, changing colors from deep violet to neon pink to blinding white.

Sparkling white strobes formed a web across the sky producing a waterfall of cascading silver sparks dropping so low, the crowd gasped, reaching up as though they might touch them.

Smoke seemed to glow from within, like northern lights trapped in a cloud.

The thunderous finale blasts were so powerful God felt the vibrations in his chest.

A sonic boom echoed off the buildings before brilliant red sparks gathered, coiling into words that hung inside a translucent smoke like magic and spelled out: GEN, I LOVE YOU

The crowd gasped.

Gen’s eyes went as big as saucers. “Oh my God.”

Another firework shrieked into the sky. It exploded in a burst of crimson flames, and the smoke swirled again. New letters burned through the haze: WILL YOU MARRY ME?

People were screaming. God glanced over at his brother, who was close to crying.

The final blast released a bouquet of bright-white heart-shaped smoke that burst into showers of pink sparks.

In the lingering smoke, one last message appeared: LOVE, CURTIS

The music cut out as Curtis appeared on the stage, looking more nervous than God had ever seen him.

He dropped to one knee, microphone shaking in his hand.

“Genesis Godfrey…I love you. Will you marry me?”

Gen bolted for the stage, shoving people out of his way as if he was running for a touchdown. He sprinted up the stairs, yanked Curtis off his knee, into his arms, and crushed their mouths together while the crowd and his team went crazy.

Fireworks kept bursting overhead, strobing the block in white and gold light and smoky hearts.

Ruxs yelled at God, “Bro! This kid’s making us all look bad!”

God laughed, arms crossed, soaking it all in.

Curtis was hugging Gen, the mic still on. “Is that a yes?”

Gen grabbed the mic, hair wild, face red. “Of course it’s yes, dammit!”

“Good.” Curtis beamed as he tugged on Gen’s hand. “Now, come on. I want you to meet my new friends, Wes and Law.”