The proposal…
They were all full on greasy triple-meat pizza and hot wings, arguing over what the sports announcers were analyzing on the post-game show.
As they all helped clean up, Day cleared his throat calling for everyone’s attention. The guys started to mumble and groan, waiting on Day to say something ridiculous, as usual. His smirk was crooked, his eyes glittering with humor. God turned and threw his big arm over Day’s shoulder. “What is it, Leo? Who do you want to call out and embarrass, now?”
Day had embarrassing ammo, in the form of secrets, on all the guys, to be pulled out anytime he was ready. They all waited while Day turned slowly and faced God. They watched God drop his arm and look at Day, neither of them speaking out loud and like always, the team wondered what they were saying to each other with those looks.
“Come on, Day. What’s up? Is it about work?” Syn asked.
“Nope.” Day shook his head slowly, eyes still on God.
God frowned, looking confused.
“You want to get together tomorrow?” Curtis asked.
“Nope.” Day put one hand deep in his jacket pocket.
“It’s just really nice to be around my brothers, my family,” Day said seriously.
The team looked on, nodding their heads in agreement, still waiting to see where their lieutenant was going with this.
“Yeah, it is,” Green agreed. “You wanted to let us know how awesome we are and give us all raises?”
The guys cheered, liking Green’s idea.
But Day looked down at the hardwood floor, slowly shaking his head again. His expression was turning more and more serious, and the room was getting eerily quiet while they waited in suspense.
“Sweetheart, spit it out,” God said in his rough timbre, casually caressing the back of Day’s neck.
Day turned to face God, looking up into his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak and had to clear his throat before anything came out. The lieutenant was being uncharacteristically reserved. Day took God’s hand that was resting heavily on his neck and held it in his own. Steeling himself, Day’s voice was calm and confident, but low when he finally spoke. Pulling a black velvet box out of his pocket, he gently stroked the soft fabric, opening the box.
“Cashel… will you marry me?”
God and Day
Day
Day put the super zoom, 3-D recording binoculars to his eyes, zooming in on the American Trans warehouse about ninety yards away. He was crouched low under the grimy window, taking pictures with the high-tech device. When he was finished, he pulled the ratty, thrift store curtains that’d already been in the abandoned two-story home when they took it over to use for their stakeout.
He rubbed his throbbing temple. Once again, that bastard Artist was setting up for a huge shipment of ecstasy into Atlanta. He’d slipped through God and Day’s fingers last year, but it wasn’t going to happen again. Their special task force didn’t like failing. The team had been handpicked from Narcotics by him and his partner, God. A unique collection of nine absolute badasses that were either too damn crazy for any other precinct to handle or too fucking talented for God and Day to let work anywhere else but for them.
“You been doing that all day. Massaging your head and blowing hard every couple hours. Is that stress from being stuck in this house for two days or from God still not committing to a date for you guys’ wedding?” Syn asked, kicking his dark boots up on one of the crates strewn about the room.
Day’s sergeant was a man he trusted with his life and with his confessions. The guy was like the priest of the group. Though only in a confidant kind of way because the man was X-rated as fuck when he was around his hot partner – ex-porn star, Furious. Day could rely on Syn to give him good advice like he did everyone, but he was so fed up with this topic. He’d proposed to God in front of his whole team, and he’d said yes, but anytime Day wanted to talk details God would shut down. He’d be busy, or off to a meeting, or about to start on something, too tired, the list was endless. Actually, the big man had gotten quite creative with his excuses.
For a couple months, Day was pretty silent on the issue, just happy to be engaged for the first time in his life, and feeling blessed to have a partner that understood him, loved him, and fought by his side. A lot of law enforcement officers didn’t have that luxury. When they were on the streets, their team got results for the chief, which earned them special accommodations from the mayor. As long as they kept the dangerous streets of Atlanta clean, thereby helping the man get reelected term after term, them being lovers wasn’t an issue for the bureaucrats.