Truth & Tenderness (26 page)

“Asleep.” Evan shut the door and stepped into Matt’s personal space. “I was so fucking scared when you took off.”

Matt wrapped his arms around Evan’s waist, drawing them together those last few inches. “Pft. I can hold my own. Actually I’m a little sad I got there late. I would have loved to punch that prick in the face.”

Evan dropped his head against Matt’s shoulder. He still felt faintly sick from that gap of time before he knew where Matt was and what was happening. Losing Matt… the mere thought of it made him breathless with fear. “Stick with security for rich people, please.”

Strong hands rubbed down Evan’s back. Matt seemed to realize that jokes weren’t going to soothe Evan right now. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll take meetings and have to jog off too many lunches and you—you go to the precinct in a few hours and show those assholes that you are the kind of captain they should promote, not hide.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“Mmm. Okay, no one knows better than me what absolute dickbags they can be,” Matt whispered. “But if every good cop walks away for that reason, then they win based on sheer numbers. Don’t stay because you want to show them how great a gay captain you can be. Stay and show them what a fucking amazing cop you are.”

Evan pressed his face into the curve of Matt’s neck. They both needed showers, and more than anything, Evan wanted to say
fuck it
and hand in his resignation. “I haven’t been a great cop lately—too much bitching and moaning about paperwork.” Evan pulled away so he could look into Matt’s eyes. “I think I lost sight of some stuff.”

His work.

Matt.

“It’s probably because you’re old and need glasses,” Matt said solemnly before leaning forward and pressing a kiss against Evan’s mouth.

T
HEY
SHOWERED
together, leaning against the wall because the steamy heat took the last tiny licks of energy from their system. By the time Matt was turning off the bathroom light, he heard doors opening in the hallway—the kids were getting up, getting ready for school.

“You wanna catch them up?” he asked as Evan stumbled past.

“I left a note for Miranda.” He beelined for the bed and barely made it under the covers when he got there.

Matt shut off all the lights, then joined him, sinking into the mattress with a noisy exhale. “Let’s never do anything like this ever again. My body can’t take the strain,” he muttered.

“How long before I retire?”

Matt opened his mouth to answer but fell asleep before he could.

W
HEN
HE
woke up, Evan wasn’t next to him. The sheets were cool and sunlight streamed through the windows where they’d forgotten to pull the curtains shut.

It was one in the afternoon, according to the clock on the nightstand next to him.

“Shit,” Matt muttered. That meant Evan was long gone, and Matt wanted to check on Jim and Griffin.

Downstairs, he found his phone neatly plugged in to the charger by the front door. The house was quiet and neat, and Matt swallowed the urge to hug every piece of furniture. All the chaos of the past few weeks seemed to have been exorcised from their world.

A few texts—Jim told him they were fine and not to bother coming out. He and Griffin were headed home, and Daisy was off to the penthouse. Another from Evan, asking him to come down to the precinct when he woke up.

Matt frowned.

Was he really going to do it? Quit the force? Matt couldn’t blame him, but Christ, Evan was supposed to be the Eliot Ness of the NYPD. A straight arrow who rose above the rest of the assholes. Not the guy who said
fuck it
and mic dropped out.

With a heavy heart, Matt went upstairs to get dressed.

H
ELENA
,
IN
a sassy black suit and heels that made her taller than Evan, read through the statement and took press questions with a vaguely superior expression. Evan watched the reporters riveted to her performance as she assured the assembled that Tripp and Tracey were being held until their extradition to Oregon to face first-degree murder charges. She reminded everyone that Captain Cerelli was directly involved in the case, coordinating the efforts to bring the Ingersolls to justice.

“Their reign of unimpeded violence is at an end,” she said coolly, then shut the conference down. She gestured for Evan to go first as they stepped off the small stage and then left the room.

In the hallway, after the door slammed closed, Helena did a little touchdown dance. “Oh my God, I’m a natural!”

Evan raised his hand for a high five. “You really are.”

She smacked her palm against his. “So does this mean I got the job?”

As he straightened his tie, Evan flashed her a smile. “If I have anything to do with it….”

Helena bounced on her heels. “Fabulous. You need anything else?”

“No, I’m good. You taking off?”

“Shane and I are going over to the penthouse to hang out with Daisy. Then I think we’re driving up to see Griffin and Jim.”

“Give everyone my love, okay?” He squeezed her arm, already excited to imagine seeing her on a daily basis again. “Hopefully we can head up there over the weekend.”

“Shane’s out buying a toy store for Sadie.” Helena pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks again.”

Helena gave him a salute. “My pleasure, Captain Cerelli. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

E
VAN
FOUND
his office occupied by Mr. Higgins and Mr. Alsta. He didn’t even blink or acknowledge them until he was sitting at his desk.

“Come to congratulate me?” he asked dryly as the two men exchanged unreadable looks.

“You managed to contain the situation,” Mr. Higgins said reluctantly.

“I’m delivering a pair of dangerous serial killers to the Oregon authorities and helping to close several cold-case murders.”

Mr. Alsta sighed as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Fine. The press is excellent and just salacious enough for them to keep coming back. That woman—”

“Helena Abbott.”

“Decorated police officer and quite adept at dealing with the mess. You want to keep her around?”

Evan couldn’t contain the smile entirely as he steepled his fingers under his chin. “She’s going to have to be wooed.”

Alsta looked at Higgins, who rolled his eyes. “We’ll get her a good package.”

“Great.” Evan regarded them both for a moment. “I guess we’re done for now.”

Mr. Higgins scowled as he stood. “No more scandals like this, Cerelli. That’s not why….” He shut his mouth tightly as he walked to the door.

“Whatever reason you hired me,” Evan said slowly, “you ended up with a good cop. And I’m going to show you both how little I need your interference.” He grinned widely. “How much you should be afraid if I decide I want your jobs next.”

W
HEN
M
ATT
arrived, the precinct was abuzz and Evan’s door was open. A few detectives lingered, and Matt recognized Jesse from GOAL leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, Matt!” Jesse moved quickly to extend his hand. “Great work.”

Matt shrugged, demurely batting his eyelashes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m retired.”

Jesse gave him a light punch in the arm. “Of course, my mistake. But I’m taking my detective’s exam soon—any pointers you want to give, I’m here to listen.”

Matt’s ego did a little stretch and preen. “You got my cell number, right? Gimme a call and we’ll have a sit-down.”

They chatted a bit more before Jesse had to leave for patrol. The rest of the detectives crowded around Evan’s desk took their leave one by one, all giving Matt a friendly greeting before the place emptied out.

“You’re a folk hero. If you and Jim want free beers, I suggest you start showing up every Friday night,” Evan said with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair.

“That sounds like something I can get behind.” Matt dropped into the chair across from Evan. “You didn’t quit.”

“Nope. I got Helena the PR job, though.” He looked pleased as punch.

“Nice. Sounds like a full day.”

Evan gestured around his office with open arms. “It’s not much, but I’m willing to keep it warm for the next captain.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “So not quitting but looking at your next promotion?”

“I got this really amazing pep talk and it made me realize that my job is only worth doing if I believe it is.”

“I said that?”

Evan threw a paperclip at him. “If I want to make a difference, I have to take advantage of my position.” Evan raised a finger. “No dirty jokes.”

Matt did a quick lip zip.

“And that means putting up with the bullshit until I’m in charge and I can make changes.”

Matt unzipped. “So are you saying I’m eventually going to be the first lady of New York City?”

“Maybe you start practicing telling people what you’re wearing, just in case.”

Looking down at his hastily chosen outfit of jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweat jacket, Matt shrugged. “Sears?”

M
ATT
HAD
taken the subway to the city, so he and Evan walked to his car shoulder to shoulder. The kids were waiting; dinner had to be eaten. They had plans for the weekend to check on their friends and plans for the summer when all the family could arrange a week or two to be together.

Evan felt the pieces falling slowly into place: another year, another lesson, another way to make things easier. Maybe they’d never find the perfect solution to everything. Maybe it would never be easy.

“I love you,” Evan said when they reached the car.

Matt paused at the passenger’s side, his expression pleased. He leaned his arms against the roof of the car. “I love you too.”

“You know this is it, right?” Evan matched his position from the driver’s side, the rush-hour traffic buzzing behind them. “Us.”

“Yesss,” Matt said slowly. “I’ve known that for a while.”

The thought had come to Evan quietly and insistently as the day progressed. Some days he believed Matt had brought him back after Sherri died, but really, Matt made him so much better a person.

Better father. Better cop.

A better man.

“I need you to know that. I want to…to… show you how much this is forever….”

Matt’s expression went from concerned to amused to a sweet reddening on his cheeks that Evan found to be his favorite reaction, ever.

“The first time you did this—please tell me it was more romantic,” Matt murmured.

“Sherri was sitting on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test in her hand,” Evan said ruefully.

Matt started to laugh.

Summer

D
AISY
,
AN
unlimited budget, too much free time on her hands, and free rein brought them to this:

A late-summer wedding in Griffin and Jim’s backyard. “Casual” and “simple” translated into floating candles and roses in the pool, long tables under rose arbors on the stretch of property between the house and the garage, and a white runner from the back door to a spot under the big oak tree, where they would take their vows.

Then there were the white balloons and lily garlands and tiny fairy lights woven through anything that didn’t move fast enough.

Jim grumbled for all of eight minutes, mostly because when he tried to get some orange juice from the refrigerator, a catering lady kicked him out.

“Someone please bring Jim orange juice so I don’t have to drown him in the pool,” Daisy said sweetly into her headset. In her lace minidress and crown of tiny roses, she looked like an ethereal angel, though Jim doubted heaven allowed four-inch heels, a push-up bra, and language that made sailors blush.

Jim—not in his tux because of wrinkle concerns—stood like a scolded child on his back steps, waiting for orange juice and someone to save him from the spectacle that was his property.