SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

“What was that?” Bull asked, letting Fox go.

“A movie sounds perfect!” Fox grabbed him around his waist and pulled him back in. “We should go search the showtimes?”

“The Cinemark only has two showtimes, at six and—”

A long moan followed by a passionate grunt made Bull stop midsentence. He glared at the clueless look on Fox’s face as if he hadn’t heard that very distinct sound.

Bull narrowed his eyes and walked up on Fox, and the moment he started to retreat, he knew something was up. Fox was too damn bold to back down from anything. He didn’t stop advancing until Fox’s back was pressed against the door. He pursed his lips, but Bull clamped his hand over Fox’s mouth before he could make a sound.

“Don’t you even think about trying to whistle again.” Bull towered over Fox. “Have I fallen into one of your traps?”

Fox shook his head vehemently until another strangled groan coming from deep inside the barn made Bull lower his hand. Fox pfft’d as if he still didn’t know what was happening. “Jesus, Bull. What in the world are you putting in these horses’ hay? Spanish fly.”

Bull snorted. “Really.”

“I guess it’s mating… um, breeding season or something, huh?”

Bull struggled to keep a straight face. “If I did live breeding, it’d be done in the stallion’s residence… not a barn.”

“Well, someone better check on those poor mares because—”

“Fuuuck, Rid. Oh my god, baby, your mouth.”

Bull gave Fox a hard glower, almost daring him to keep trying to fool him.

Fox squeezed his eyes closed and threw his hands in the air as if he’d given up. “Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me! Who sneaks in a fuck on the job, then moans like they’re making a fuckin’ porno?” Fox yelled inside the barn doors.

“So, you’re covering for Dale now?” Bull shook his head.

Fox let Bull wrap him in his arms. “You’re right… this place is making me soft.”

Garvin trotted up to the gate on a dun quarter horse and asked what was going on. “You guys expecting the president?”

He and Fox had gotten lost in their kiss, which was why neither of them saw the line of black Escalades rolling up the driveway towards his house until it was too late. Bull’s grip began to tighten around his lover’s waist as men started filing out of the vehicles.

Fox sighed. “Just when I thought he’d given up.”

Bull’s eyes caught and held on to the tallest one in the black leather coat, who’d slammed the door to the front SUV so hard, the rest of the staff that was still wrapping up turned in that direction. The guy’s entire image screamed leader. But Bull thought Ivan Hart was Fox’s captain.

“Who is that?” Bull asked.

Fox turned and gave him a grave expression. “Who else? It’s God.”

Fox walked with Bull as slowly as he could across the property until they were at his porch. Bull had waved for his staff to get back to work, but it was clear they were more interested in God and the huge show of force he’d brought with him rather than clocking out for the day. Bull leaned on the porch railing and gazed down at him.

“So that’s them, huh?” Bull mumbled.

“Yep.” Fox sighed, glancing across the couple hundred feet where four of the narcotics team’s enforcers, Ruxs, Green, Steele, and Tech, stood with God’s husband and partner, Day. But what really had Fox messed up was his own team getting out of the last two trucks. Hart and his sergeant, Dinah, stood like leaders in front of their four shield men when Fox noticed how they were all dressed.

Fuck. They were suited up for an op.

“How you doing, Bull?” Hart called across the immaculate lawn.

Bull dipped his head once. “Good to see you, Hart. Sorry it has to be like this.”

“It doesn’t.” Hart walked forward and stood next to God near his front vehicle as he asked, “Fox. How you holding up, man?”

“I was fine, ten minutes ago,” he grated.

“All right, enough!” God snapped. “Playtime is fuckin’ over, Fox. You think you can just come out here, have fun, use department resources, shoot up fuckin’ bars on the side of the highway, and no one’ll notice?”

Fox shrugged. “I have a right to defend myself, with or without a badge.”

“You’ve fucked with my time long enough, Tucker.” God moved forward, his jaw clenched, his voice terrifying. “Let’s go. Now.”

Fox didn’t move. “Was I not clear the first time I said it, God?”

Fox met his teammates’ eyes, wishing they could see what was really happening with him. He loved them all, they were great friends, but Fox was living his own life. Apparently, God didn’t understand that. A man who lived and breathed Atlanta blue. Nothing was more important to him or his husband than their jobs. But that was their life.