God closed up the file he’d been reading and tucked it in his desk drawer, mumbling the entire time. “Being thrown out of my own department. I’m the head of this task force.”
“Well come back when your head is in the game and out of your ass.” Syn didn’t flinch when God slammed his drawer shut, shoved his chair back under his desk, and stood toe-to-toe with him. Syn looked almost bored when he responded. “If you’ve finished your tantrum… get out.”
Day wanted to run up and kiss Syn, but instead he turned and left. Syn had been recruited from Philadelphia by them for a reason. He knew how to take charge if he had to, and if something happened to the amazing team that was God and Day, they could count on Syn to run the task force.
Day waited by God’s truck, rehearsing in his head how he wanted this to play out. Being an asshole wasn’t going to cut it. Neither was being reserved. All he wanted to know was where he stood. God unlocked the doors and both of them climbed inside, not yet ready to talk. The heat radiating off of God was enough to almost suffocate him, and that horrible feeling came back full force. That feeling that his life was about to change for the worse. A complete one-eighty from how he’d felt when he’d proposed.
God turned into their driveway, which was only ten minutes from the precinct, and killed the engine, finally looking at him, but Day couldn’t look back. Couldn’t look into those gorgeous green eyes that held his heart. He felt God brush the top of his hand with his fingers, but Day still couldn’t turn to look at him.
“Leo, let’s go inside and talk.”
Day got out of the truck without a word or a glance. He held in his smart comment about God finally wanting to talk and went inside. It was only eight a.m., still early, and his stomach was starting to protest from the copious amounts of liquor still sloshing in there with no solid food to soak it up. “Are you hungry?” he asked, going straight to the kitchen.
“Sure. You can cook, I’ll talk. It’s time I get this out before it destroys us.”
God
He’d never felt more like a coward. His stomach was in his throat and his hands were sweating enough for him to have to wipe them on his jeans several times. Not much could get him upset or off his game. But Day being mad at him left him flustered, and Syn had been right to send them packing until they got their shit together. He was weak when he and his other half weren’t of one accord. His strength lay within that man. It was almost biblical. Even Sampson – the strongest man in the bible – had one weakness… his woman. Day could destroy him if he left him. God needed to get the conflict out of their relationship.
Day set a bottle of water in front of him on the breakfast bar where he sat watching Day move around his gourmet-style kitchen.
“So talk,” Day said softly, pulling items out of the pantry.
“Leo. I um… I should’ve said this before… I don’t… I don’t want a wedding.”
Day froze, standing outside the pantry, and God could see his hand shaking on the door, his body trembling. Oh shit. God hurried off the stool and clasped Day around his waist, pulling his strong back to his chest.
“You don’t wanna marry me?” Day asked, sounding broken.
God spun Day around, his words faltering and his heart shattering at the pain in his partner’s eyes. “No! Yes! Yes, I want to marry you, more than anything. I don’t want a wedding, Leo.” God gripped Day’s shoulders when his look went from painful to surprise or was it horror? “Please listen for a second. The moment you proposed I’d never felt so damn special. Never thought anyone would want a man as damaged and fucked up as I was. You knew… you knew what happened to me growing up and you still wanted me to be your partner, for life.” God let Day go and turned around, heading back to his seat, running his hand through his hair while he tried desperately to say the right thing. “But then you and Vikki started meeting and talking about a wedding and a guest list of seventy to eighty people – fuck, Leo, I don’t even like a third of those people she was inviting.”
Day kept watching God with a confused expression, but he never interrupted him. He just sat on the stool opposite him, looking on with a completely unreadable expression. Damn, he hoped Syn hadn’t set him up to fall flat on his face. Syn had been telling him for months to just spit it out, it’d be no big deal.