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Angela Thomas, Gideon’s partner, looked up from her desk and then sighed when she saw Grady’s face. “If he punches you, I’m not gonna do a damn thing to stop him,” she told Gideon.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Gideon sputtered.
“Not when you’re deliberately antagonising the station grump.”
“Why do I get that title?” Grady grumbled. “Greer is way more of an asshole than me.”
“I said grump, not asshole. And he’s never here, so how could he earn that title?” Angela said. She leaned back in her chair and linked her fingers behind her head. She gave Grady a smile he could only describe as predatory because she was terrifying. “He’s the office ghost. You’re the office grump. Gideon is the office idiot—”
“Hey!”
“I shouldn’t ask, because this entire conversation is ridiculous, but what am I?” Quinn wanted to know.
“You’re the office sweetheart.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Really?” Angela said, feigning ignorance. “I’ve been told it’s my best feature.”
“Who told you that?” Grady said, scowling. He shoved his mug away with disgust—what a waste of a perfectly good coffee—and went back to the reports and autopsy findings he was reading over.
“Grady!”
Grady’s head jerked up in surprise at Lake’s voice. He was walking towards Grady with a bounce to his step that should have been illegal this time of the day. His hair looked wet from sweat, swept to the side, and his face was red, probably from the heat outside, but it could be sunburned. Despite that, he still looked like he was ready for another whole day of work. Just thinking about it made Grady exhausted.
The uniform, though…fuck.He filled it out… far too well for Grady’s peace of mind. The green camo jacket had “McKenna” written on a tag across his chest, above his heart, and stretched tight enough to show some definition without being obscene. The pants were similar, though a tad tighter fit, ending with solid-black combat boots with intricate laces.Fuck.For a ridiculous human being, he looked fucking incredible. Grady silently urged Lake to turn just a little so he could see that round ass shaped by the camo.
This was so fucking stupid. Lusting after straight boys was never on Grady’s agenda.Ever.Even gay men made him wary at the moment. He’d been burned twice now and wasn’t planning to sign up for that again in this lifetime. Who needed relationships anyway? They were nothing but trouble. Fake bliss that was just setting you up to have your heart ripped out and stood on. Thanks, but no thanks.
“How did you get in here?” Grady asked. The officer at the front desk shouldn’t have just let someone come waltzing in by themselves. Especially not this deep into the station.
“It’s the uniform,” Lake said, beaming at him. “It makes me seem trustworthy.”
Grady bet they were too busy looking at his ass, more like. And he had a feeling that Lake could charm the fur off a lion. He had that easy-going friendliness that put people at ease.
Lake lifted the clean and ironed shirt that had been tucked over his arm, and Grady recognised it as his own.
“I came to bring your shirt back,” Lake said. “Thanks for letting me wear it, big guy.”
Grady made sure to keep his gaze on Lake and not on the eerily quiet room around him. He just knew all pairs of eyes were on them. Lake didn’t need help to draw attention to himself.
“You could have just dropped it at my house.” In hindsight, that statement probably made this entire situation sound worse. He was fairly certain that Quinn had just made a choking noise.
“I did think about keeping it to sleep in, since it’s so cosy, but I figured it was probably best to return it.”
Jesus Christ. Did Lake even hear himself talking? Was he doing this onpurpose?He had to be. Straight or not, the innuendos were clear for anyone to hear.
“Ooh, marshmallow!” Lake said excitedly, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Grady’s drink. “In your coffee? I didn’t know we were allowed to do that!”
“We’re not. It’s illegal.” It had to be somewhere. It was an affront to nature.
“Well, get your cuffs out because I’m gonna be breaking the law later tonight,” Lake said, rubbing his hands together.
That had definitely been Quinn choking. He didn’t even have a drink.
Grady leaned back in his chair and wished he were anywhere but there. He gestured at his mug. “Have at it. If you do it now, it will save us the trouble of chasing you down.”
“Efficiency. I approve.” Lake draped Grady’s shirt over Grady’s shoulder and then picked the mug up with two hands, inhaling deeply. “That smells good.” He sounded surprised. “I thought cop coffee was disgusting.”
