“Badass out there last night, Mason,” Ruxs said in his deep voice. He stood from his desk, and his partner, Green, came up behind him and adjusted the straps on his partner’s vest without anyone giving it a second thought.
Mason didn’t know how they could be partners on the streets and lovers at home. But somehow all of them made it work.
“Yeah. You caught us a pretty big fish, Mason. Nice job,” Green added. “You looked fearless out there.”
Fearless, huh? I sure didn’t feel that way at the time. Mason held on to his outward composure and nodded at these men who went after Atlanta’s worst and got shot at on a weekly basis. Yet, they never complained. They did it with pride and passion. Detectives that had to watch maniacs put a gun to the back of their partners’ heads—men that they loved—get taken hostage, all while maintaining professionalism and the integrity of their shield.
Their hulking bravados smothered Mason as they each filed out of the office. Once they were gone, Free’s bright eyes landed on his, and a look of pure elation danced across his gorgeous features. Mason gave him an apologetic wave, hoping that maybe he wasn’t in as deep a shit as he thought.
Free pushed his chair away from his station of ten or more monitors and hurried toward him. Mason was confused as Free grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward his lab on the other side of the department. Once they were closed inside, Free dove into his arms and buried his face in his neck.
“You bloody asshole,” he said against Mason’s sensitive ear. “I thought you were going to get shot, Mase.”
Mason held Free loosely around his narrow waist, not wanting anyone to come in and see them in such a position and mistake it for something it wasn’t. He held his breath so he didn’t continue to inhale the erotic masculinity that was Lennox Freeman. “I’m fine, Free. Don’t overreact.” Mason chuckled lightly.
Free eased away, yet his face was still close enough that Mason could see the way Free’s long, brown lashes lay against his cheek while he gazed down on him. Mason exhaled and continued to increase the space between them. He would always only consider the genius a friend, but Mason was still human for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t stop his body from doing what came naturally when in the presence of a smart, sexy… tall man.
“So.” Mason clasped his hands in front of him, his forearms resting on his duty belt. “How much shit am I in with God?”
Free turned away and sat at a high-back stool in front of a stainless steel table. There were gadgets as far as Mason could see and another collage of computer monitors. “I have no idea, Mase. God, Day, and Syn have been in conferences all day.”
“Shit.” Mason swallowed. His stomach became a swarm of hornets, and he suddenly regretted those three extra boiled eggs he had for breakfast.
“God is the least of your worries.”
“I doubt that.”
“Sit down.” Free pointed at a long bench that was built into the wall.
“I should see what God wants so I can get to—”
“This won’t take but a moment.” Free put his hand in the center of Mason’s chest and shoved him until the back of his knees hit the bench and his ass hit the seat. “Because I will be damned if I ever again go through what I did last night.”
“My cell battery was low, Free. I’d just got off duty and forgot I had to take my neighbor’s dog out.” Mason rubbed his forehead and chuckled awkwardly. “Worst time ever for a phone to die, huh?”
Free glanced at him with heat blazing in his dark eyes, and Mason realized just how much his friend really cared about him. If he hadn’t run like he was an Olympic track star, Free would be mourning him at the moment. And here he was making jokes. Because it’s better than admitting how I really feel. “I should’ve charged it a little before I went out. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“You are damn right it won’t.” Free moved around his laboratory that God ensured was supplied with whatever technology Free needed. And there were certainly enough expensive machines, microscopes, and contraptions that Mason had no idea did what.
His good friend was bent over a low table, staring through a large magnifying mirror, and Mason quickly diverted his eyes when he found his eyes roaming south. I really need to go on a date or something. Mason wasn’t the love ’em and leave ’em type, but he was borderline desperate. Free was fiddling with a piece of film that was so ultra-sheer Mason was amazed it could even be manipulated. Free lifted it with a pair of tweezer-gripper-majigs, and Mason noticed the plastic was slender and oblong with microfine gold strings running through the center.