"Is that your idea of appropriate door-answering attire?"
He relieved me of the coffee and donut box, placing them on the kitchen counter with exaggerated care. "I heard the gate. Knew it was you." He opened the Pink Pony box, his eyes widening with delight. "Maple bacon! You're my favorite person."
"I'm your favorite person even without donuts. Well, one of them." I set my keys in the little ceramic bowl Troy had made in the pottery class I'd dragged him to last fall.
"True." Rhett closed the distance between us and wrapped me in a hug that lifted me off my feet. He smelled like Irish Spring soap and something woodsy. Despite his playful demeanor, I could feel the solid strength in his arms, the product of years hauling fire hoses and carrying people to safety.
When he set me down, I took a proper look at his underwear and burst out laughing. The pink fabric was emblazoned across the back with the words "GOOD BOY" in glittery letters.
"What is that, and where did you get it?" I gestured at the jockstrap.
Rhett stepped back and struck a pose, hands on his hips. "This old thing?" He turned, giving me a view of his ass, which the jockstrap framed rather spectacularly. "You don't recognize it? Troy got it for me for Valentine's Day."
He shimmied his hips in a ridiculous dance move that made me laugh again. This was pure Rhett—unself-conscious, joyful, always ready to make others smile even at his own expense. It was one of the first things I'd fallen in love with about him.
"How was your day yesterday?" He turned back to the donuts and selected one with extra sprinkles. "Did Joe swing by?"
I nodded, grabbing my coffee from the tray. "I definitely noticed Denver's finest circling the block a few times. Very subtle."
Rhett held up his hands, strawberry glaze already on his fingers. "Hey, that was all Troy's idea. I told him we didn't need to have your brother's cop buddy driving by every hour."
"Every hour?"
"Figure of speech." Though we both knew it probably wasn't. "Just a little extra precaution. Snake prevention measures."
I rolled my eyes, but secretly, I didn't mind. After gaining nearly three hundred thousand podcast followers in the past year, the attention hadn't all been positive. The box of snakes left on my doorstep six months ago had been a terrifying reminder of how quickly online fame could spill into real-world danger. The guywas in jail now, but neither Troy nor Rhett had fully relaxed their vigilance.
"I know the stalker's locked up," Rhett said, as if reading my thoughts. "But better safe than sorry, right?" He licked glaze from his thumb, his expression softening. "We worry."
"I know you do." I stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "And I've learned to let you worry just a little. It's kind of nice, actually."
He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against his side. "So how was the podcast yesterday? Any interesting callers?"
I took a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth spread through me. "Had a woman call in with an interesting situation. Newly married couple, just moved into their dream home, and the neighbor seems determined to sleep with both of them."
"That sounds kind of hot." Rhett wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I laughed, shaking my head. "You would think that. She was actually pretty distressed about it. Said the neighbor keeps finding excuses to come over shirtless, invites them for drinks that somehow always end up with truth or dare games..."
"And you told her to fuck him, right? Both of them?" He spoke around a mouthful of donut.
"I most certainly did not." I tried to sound professional, but a smile crept into my voice. "I gave her solid advice about establishing boundaries and having a frank conversation with her husband about their comfort levels."
"Boring."
"Responsible." What I didn't mention was how the caller's story had reminded me of our own beginning—the tension, the unspoken desires, the way we'd circled each other for months before finally admitting what we all wanted. Part of me hoped they'd end up in bed together too, but professional ethics demanded I stick to the advice that would help her navigate the situation safely, whatever the outcome.
The sound of a key in the lock made both of us turn toward the door. It swung open, and there was Troy, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe, dark eyes taking in the scene before him. My heart did that familiar stutter—a mixture of disbelief and joy that this gorgeous man was part of my life.
"Well, isn't this a pretty picture." Troy's smile was slow and warm as he set his helmet and backpack down. "My two favorite people."
Unlike Rhett, who bounded home full of energy regardless of how brutal his shift had been, Troy moved with a deliberate grace that spoke of the exhaustion he was fighting. His lieutenant responsibilities kept him at the station longer, handling paperwork and debriefs that the others could skip.
I crossed to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Welcome home."
His kiss was soft but insistent, one hand coming up to cup my face while the other wrapped around my lower back, pulling me flush against him. I melted into him, breathing in the faint smokiness that clung to him no matter how many showers he took at the station.
"Missed you," he murmured against my lips.
