by Jay Hogan
The funeral had been a gut-wrenching tearjerker, and Josh had looked forward to blowing off some steam. Seeing the twenty-three-year-old slain officer’s young family fall apart at their loss had been one of the hardest things he’d ever witnessed. And although the man had been relatively new to the Auckland Station, his death brought home the reality of the job’s risks in the worst possible way.
Manning a shift immediately after the funeral had been all kinds of hard, but when the robbery call first went out, Josh had reluctantly made the “no go” call to Michael and taken a minute to share his crap day with the man. Plus, he’d been keen to hear if Michael had been able to make an ID at the station. Answer, he hadn’t. When later Josh had checked in with Mark, the detective told him that Michael had lingered over the image of Denton Cruz, a fact that got Mark all excited, but they’d only had a three-year-old photo to go by. It was minus tatts, jewellry, and scars. Eventually, Michael had dismissed it.
It was bad news for any imminent arrest, but on the plus side, Mark had already passed news of the ID washout to their undercover guys, who’d make sure it got through to the gangs. By the next day, the threat on Michael should have eased, if not gotten him off their radar altogether. It made no sense for them to pursue him and risk getting caught in a police backlash if Michael couldn’t ID them. It was a win as far as Josh was concerned, and it meant the doctor could head back to his place sooner than expected.
Michael had seemed equally disappointed at the cancelled booty call. “That sound you hear,” he’d grumbled, “is the butt plug hitting the washbasin.” And damn, if that image hadn’t imbedded itself in Josh’s mind for the remainder of the night. It ensured he spent the two-hour search sporting a semi.
It had been three before he’d crawled into bed. He’d been cold, wet, and without the buzz of a successful arrest to ease the bone-deep ache in his muscles. No surprise that the seven o’clock alarm came as a nasty shock. It was accompanied by thumping on the bedroom door.
“Dad, get up. We’ll be late.”
“There’s no one by that name here.” Josh groaned. “I’m pretty sure he died of an allergy to eleven-year-old girls.”
“Dad! Get up or I’ll let Paris in.”
“Go away, demon spawn,” he grumbled, dragging the bedclothes over his head. “Any real daughter of mine would never be so cruel.”
The door flew open, and Paris landed on his bed, doubling Josh in half with a paw to his groin. “Shit… watch where you’re landing, mutt.”
“Swear jar, Dad,” Sasha scolded with a grin, planting herself next to him. “Time to get up, pretty man. I’ve got a netball game to win.”
Josh rolled to his side, enfolding his daughter in a fierce bear hug. “What did you call me?”
Sasha giggled. “Pretty man, pretty man, pretty man.”
He tickled her sides until she squealed and squirmed like a jellyfish, tears rolling down her face. When he finally let go, she collapsed beside him, grinning like a loon. A second later she reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He didn’t think he could love her any more in that moment.
“Pretty man, huh?” he said with a mock scowl.
Sasha cupped his face in her hands, turning it from side to side, inspecting it. “Janice’s mom said you’re a pretty guy in an Action Man package. She said that a lot of pretty guys are gay, but to get pretty and buff together was unusual, and it makes it harder to tell.”
What the…? Josh nearly swallowed his tongue. “And she said this to you?”
Sasha laughed. “No, silly. She was talking to Holly’s mom in the library. I just overheard. Anyway, I think it’s kind of silly, ’cause Jase was gay, but he wasn’t pretty….”
Oh, he was pretty, all right. Try, pretty despicable. Josh kept his mouth shut.
She continued. “And he wasn’t obviously gay.”
Josh raised his brows.
Sasha blanched. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being obviously gay…,” she flustered.
He grinned. “Go on.”
She kept a wary eye on his face. “I just meant that if they didn’t know you, no one would think it, right? Mom didn’t pick you as gay straight off either… or not straight,” she giggled.
Sweet Jesus. What rabbit hole had he fallen down this morning? Josh couldn’t even think of a sensible response. “So, are you saying it’s better not to be obviously gay?” Truth was, he was interested to know how she saw things, especially having a gay dad.
She frowned, clearly giving the question serious thought. “I know it shouldn’t matter, but I think it’s maybe easier when you’re growing up. A lot of people are still dicks about it, like Gramma and Pop.”
He winced inwardly. Out of the mouths of babes. Not the answer he’d wish for in an ideal world but truthful as she saw it, and at this stage he’d take that. Oh God. He was gonna have to revisit the whole sex talk thing again, wasn’t he? Those conversations amounted to prodding a nest of vipers, point in case.
Josh tapped her chest with his finger. “Dicks? Not technically a swear word but not far off. Right, this conversation is done, missy. Vamoose.”
He watched her go, wishing he could erase the last five minutes from his memory.
KATIE HAD left a note saying she’d opted for a sleep-in so not to wake her. Josh briefly wondered if she was seeing someone again, but it wasn’t like her to be secretive about it. A little brotherly digging was clearly on the horizon. Payback was a bitch.
That left just the two of them when they called to pick Michael up for the game. His daughter hadn’t even raised an eyebrow on hearing Michael would be joining them. “Cool,” she’d said, barely lifting her eyes from her Candy Crush game.
Michael was waiting outside, freshly showered and looking lip-smacking delicious. The shiner added a certain bad boy element to the mix that was kind of hot. Wearing a pair of skinny light-wash jeans, black Vans, and a black woollen bomber open over a white tee, he gave Josh a huge smile followed by a wink that sent the blood straight to Josh’s groin.
Michael greeted Sasha with a friendly enough “hey,” which she returned. She made no mention of his bruised face, something Josh had forgotten to warn her about. And any concerns he might have had about the two of them hitting it off proved misplaced as they immediately embarked on a convoluted discussion about netball, Sasha’s team, the merits of their opposition, and their relative chances of a win. Michael must have done some homework on the rules of the game, and the thought did funny things to Josh’s stomach.
At the courts, Sasha pulled Josh down for a hug, whispering in his ear, “He’s, like, totally cute, Dad.” She punched his arm, then ran off to join her team. Standing up, he’d found Michael tight to his side, the smirk on Michael’s face suggesting he’d caught the exchange.
“Nice kid.” Michael clapped Josh on the shoulder. “Like, totally nice.” He grinned and headed for the bleachers, leaving Josh no option but to follow. Yeah, right. Michael was totally cute, like a great white was cute.
Despite Josh’s concerns, when the game got under way, Michael genuinely seemed to be having a good time. He asked lots of questions, cheered when Sasha’s team was doing well, and grumbled at referee calls that went against them. The whole thing put Josh in a ridiculously good mood. Then Sasha’s team scored a win in their first game, and Michael leapt to his feet, punched the air with a loud yes, and turned to high five Josh. Sasha heard and faced them from the court with a delighted grin. It was all Josh could do not to tackle him to the ground and kiss him senseless.
There was a thirty-minute break between games, and Josh spent the first part of that answering all of Michael’s questions around rules and contact. Michael had picked up that, for a theoretically noncontact sport, there seemed to be an awful lot of fairly aggressive manoeuvring in the goal circle, where Sasha played defence. Michael listened attentively, one thigh pressed hard against Josh’s, the heated contact doing funny things to Josh’s insides.
The w
hole morning was going so well, Josh couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried it might not be a good idea. Then he was reminded like a bucket of cold water to the face. In the middle of explaining a rule about shooting, he glanced up and caught sight of Jase. The fucker was talking to Sasha at her team bench, and she was smiling up at the weasel, sucking on her water bottle and clearly lapping up whatever sappy shit he was throwing her way. Josh’s good mood evaporated immediately.
“Shit.”
MICHAEL CAUGHT the expletive and followed the other man’s gaze. “Who’s that?”
Josh sighed. “The ex. Jason.”
“As in the lived together, partner ex?”
Josh nodded.
Huh. Michael studied the man with interest. Jason was chatting to an animated Sasha with an ease that spoke of long periods of time spent together. It was a close familiarity that Michael may or may not have felt a slight prick of jealousy about. Okay. That was unexpected.
It had, after all, taken a fair bit for him not to run screaming at the first sight of Sasha. Comparisons with Marcia were unavoidable. There was the age, the similar cascading copper-blond hair, olive skin, blue eyes. None of it bore up under closer examination, but the passing resemblance added up to a near-instant panic attack just the same. Michael had held it together fairly well, considering. And the more he studied Sasha, the more he saw the differences. It was enough to calm his heart and allow him to breathe.
He nudged Josh with his shoulder. “Problem?”
“What?” Josh replied, not lifting his eyes from his daughter.
Michael nodded to the ex. “Is that a problem?” he repeated.
Josh sighed, a deep frown etched on his forehead. “Nah. He’s just a jerk. Hadn’t expected to see him here today, that’s all.”
Michael continued to observe as Josh’s daughter chatted to the other man, the two of them laughing over something. Then Sasha pointed their way, and he saw Jason’s gaze laser focus on Josh before sliding sideways to Michael. The dick stared just this side of too long, then high-fived the girl and made his way toward the bleachers. This was going to be interesting.
Jason was a good-looking man and walked with the confidence of someone who knew he drew attention from both sexes, knew it and used it. In other words, full of himself—and Michael hated him on sight. There were physical similarities between himself and the other man, perhaps enough to confirm Josh had a type, and if this ex had done a number on Josh, as Michael’s gut was telling him, then no wonder Josh had given Michael the stink eye from the start. And if Josh ever learned about Michael’s track record with Simon, it would only serve to cement that impression.
Without a word to Michael, Josh left his seat and headed down to meet his ex. Michael rolled his eyes. Hey, no problem. Sure, I’ll wait here. He kicked himself for being childish and kept his eyes trained on the two men.
The ex saw Josh coming and flashed him a huge grin that had Michael’s skin crawling. He pulled Josh into a close hug that Michael could tell was unwelcome, Josh giving new meaning to the word rigid. Glancing at Sasha, Michael saw she was watching the interaction intently, maybe even hopefully. Crap. Sasha might like the ex, but watching the two men together, it was easy to see that Josh couldn’t stand the guy. Michael might not know the man or what had gone on between the two, but he tended to agree with Josh’s sentiment. Not helped by the fact that the man was way, way too handsy for Michael’s liking, touching Josh’s arms and back repeatedly as he talked.
Their discussion seemed friendly enough, with lots of shared glances at Sasha and the other team, clearly discussing the game. On one occasion, the ex indicated behind him to a young man leaning on a car in the car park, and Josh’s hands fisted at his side. Then in what was clearly a deliberate move to fuck with Josh, Jason blew the guy a kiss. Bastard.
Not that the young man seemed too thrilled about things either. He was hot, in that young, cool, aloof kind of way, hands in pockets, legs crossed, glaring. The latest boyfriend on parade, if Michael had to guess. So, this shithead liked playing games, did he? Michael couldn’t help but wonder what the hell Josh had ever seen in him. Then he thought back to his own behaviour with Simon. Yeah, pot, kettle.
He had a panicked thought. What if Josh invited the dick to sit with them? He didn’t think he could be civil to the guy for more than a few seconds, and he certainly couldn’t just sit there and watch him paw his guy. His guy? Jesus. Since when had he started thinking of Josh as his?
And why the hell was Josh just standing there, letting it happen? The shithead ex was flirting in that patronising way that said “I’m know I’m hot and I’m pretty sure you haven’t gotten over me,” blah, blah, blah. Shit. Maybe Josh would feel obliged to leave Michael to sit with that tool?
The mere thought had Michael’s blood boiling, and seconds later when the ex reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Josh’s ear, Michael was suddenly done with this asshole. Josh tugged the hair forward again, but why he didn’t just tell the jerk to keep his hands to himself, Michael had no idea. Then it hit him. Sasha. Josh was sucking it up because his daughter still liked the guy. Well, fuck that.
Michael shot to his feet, then paused. It wasn’t like he could just bowl up and interrupt uninvited. If Josh had wanted them to meet, he’d have called the guy over. He needed an excuse, and just like that, Michael had one. A few minutes later he sidled up to the men with two coffees in hand.
“Here you go, hun.” He held one out to Josh. “Just how you like it.”
The shock on dickhead’s face was worth a fucking photo. Yeah, take that, asshole. He’s too damn good for you. For me either, come to that. Now keep your fucking hands off him.
Josh’s brows peaked in surprise and his mouth quirked up, stifling a laugh. “Ah, thanks… babe.” He accepted the coffee and allowed himself to be kissed on the cheek, even blushed.
Attaboy. Michael ran a hand down Josh’s spine, settling it in the small of the man’s back, a territorial gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by dickhead. But it was the way Josh leaned into the pressure that had Michael smiling. “Gonna introduce us, hun?” he asked innocently, as if Josh’s ex hadn’t even rated a mention between them prior to then.
Josh gave a soft snort. “Sure. Michael Oliver, this is my ex, Jason Clarke. Michael’s an ER doctor.”
“Oh.” Jase offered his hand, somewhat reluctantly, Michael thought. He accepted, making sure to add a good amount of pressure to his grip, then sipped his coffee, the ensuing silence growing somewhat awkward. He studied his cup.
“Not a bad brew,” he commented. “Sorry, Jason, I would’ve brought you one had I known.”
Josh sputtered, nearly choking on his own coffee.
Jason looked between them, sceptical to say the least. “Thanks, but, ah, we’re not staying long.”
“We?” Michael made a point of looking around.
“Yeah, my boyfriend.” Jason waved toward the car park.
Michael glanced over. “Oh, well, you’re both welcome to join us.” Ow. Josh’s hand closed around his in a bone-crushing squeeze. Oops.
Jason grimaced. “Maybe another time.”
Yeah, right. He doubted the boyfriend could string more than a few adult words together. I’d hide him too, Michael thought. And Michael should know—he’d fucked more than enough just like the guy over the last couple of years.
“You’re American, I take it?” There was a slight challenge in Jason’s gaze.
Michael held up a hand. “Guilty as charged.”
Jason’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “On holiday, then?”
You wish. “No. Working here, actually. Auckland Med.”
“Oh.” Jason’s gaze narrowed. “Enjoying your stay?”
“More so, recently.” Michael glanced at Josh, pulling him closer.
“So, you’re here for a while?” Jason’s gaze slid to the courts.
Damn right I am, you shithead. He knew the guy was scoping out how serious things were
between them. Michael was happy to put him on notice. “Yeah. Not going anywhere.”
Jason raised a brow. “Get the shiner at work?”
Tricky little bastard. Michael grinned. “Disgruntled customer. Occupational hazard. Gets me plenty of sympathy, though.” He placed another kiss on Josh’s cheek, earning him a second death grip on his hand. A quick glance Sasha’s direction caught the young girl staring their way. Mmm. He might have overstepped it.
The whistle blew, and the teams took to the courts once again. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jason.” Michael slipped an arm around Josh’s shoulders. “Come on, babe, better get back to our seats.”
Josh nodded to Jason. “Good of you to turn up, Jase. I’m sure Sasha appreciates it.”
Jason placed a hand on Josh’s arm, and it was all Michael could do not to deck him there and then. He settled for a low growl, not missed by the other two men. Josh bit his lip, clearly doing his level best not to break into laughter.
Jason’s gaze slid to Michael, checking if Josh was on board with all his boyfriend’s posturing.
Don’t let me down here, wolf-man.
And just like that, Josh pulled his arm from Jason’s hand and grabbed Michael’s instead. Good man.
Jason let his arm fall to his side and continued with another ploy by saying, “I thought I might drop by next week to catch up with Sasha.”
Fuck. For all Michael wanted to give the guy a piece of his mind, he had no choice but to let Josh handle this. As it was, Josh hesitated only a second before answering.
“You know Sasha’s always happy to see you, Jase, but I’m gonna need some warning.” He glanced Michael’s way. “You know how it is.”
Attaboy. Michael couldn’t have been prouder, and the sour expression on Jason’s face indicated he’d gotten the message loud and clear.
“Sure.” The man’s tone was pissy, and for a second, Michael thought he was going to force Josh into another hug. Not happening on my watch, douchebag. Michael tugged Josh’s hand, and he didn’t bat an eye. He turned his back on Jason and followed Michael to their seats, holding his hand all the way.