Page 35 of Before They Were Lovers

“Aww, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” Seasel poked her glossy bottom lip out. “If only someone would buy me flowers.”

God didn’t look up, and Seasel didn’t give up.

“I’d show my appreciation in the most unique ways,” she crooned. “Over and over and over.”

Day cringed.Yikes.

“Johnson, you have great taste. These are so pretty.” Seasel fawned over the bouquet, and Day had a mind to tell her to feel free to take them and put them on her desk.

His face was growing warm as several of the officers in the precinct began to whisper and chuckle with each other. Johnson’s advances had spread like wildfire over the last few weeks, and Day had become the butt of many jokes since.

If Johnson didn’t make such a spectacle of himself with his flashy clothes and car, he’d be a decent catch.

He was strikingly handsome, smart, and had a good job. He was confident and not afraid of his sexuality. He damn near bragged about it. He bragged about everything.

Day hated how much Johnson gloated about his powerful father, not to mention the constant name-dropping—he golfed with the mayor and had cigars and brandy with the chief every month.

All those things were a huge turnoff. Day liked the quiet, indifferent type. A man who oozed confidence and bravadowithouttrying.

“You sure you don’t want anything from the deli, God?” Seasel persisted.

God shook his head.

“You gotta eat, honey. I barely see you leave this desk, and if you do, you eat junk.” Seasel took God’s chin and forced him to look at her. “I’m gonna make you a home-cooked meal. Do you like pasta?”

God gently eased Seasel’s hand from his face.

“I do eat, just not here,” God answered.

Day met God’s eyes. His partner ate at his place at least five days a week.Hecooked for God, and he didn’t need anyone else’s help.

“Fast food doesn’t count.” She sashayed away, throwing God a sexy look over her shoulder before she turned the corner.

Over the next couple of weeks, the gifts kept coming from Johnson and Seasel, everything from rare orchids to expensive chocolates to home-cooked dishes.

Day hated it.

The gifts were an insistent reminder of the faux holiday his partner hated.

The last two years, he and God had drowned themselves in liquor and bitterness, mocking the whole ludicrous idea of a “designated day for love.”

He kind of wanted to do that again. But Johnson kept rearing his braggart head, and God had a hot woman flirting a bit harder each day in hopes of getting more than a few grunts out of him.

It was after 9:00 p.m., Day was exhausted, and he still had two more hours to go.

He went to the break lounge to make his sixth cup of coffee when Johnson came up behind him, trapping him against the counter.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Johnson, not now, okay?” Day groaned. “It’s been a long shift, and it looks like I’ll be studying all night. I don’t have—”

“You need a man to take care of you,” Johnson whispered, massaging Day’s shoulder and neck. “You’re too tense.”

Fuck.

Before Day knew it, his eyelids fluttered closed as he rolled his head to the side. Johnson had targeted the exact spot that’d been knotted with stress for days.

How the hell did the guy learn to massage like that?

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