His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)
He’d been coming to the Pub with God and Day since they were beat officers, and he’d still been a sergeant based at headquarters. Throughout those years, he’d definitely noticed the strong men who’d passed in and out of that front door. He had eyes, for sure. Hell, even the man sitting beside him was known to turn heads, and so did his husband, but Hart had never seen any of them like that. Probably, because a lot of the men in there were a decent size, and God was just as broad as him. He didn’t believe he was attracted to that type of man.
His leg bounced even harder. I can’t believe I’m thinking of doing this. He’s not gonna want me like that. Hart scratched at his thick beard. It’d gotten even longer since he’d been gone on assignment. He took a nervous gulp of his club soda as his inner thoughts started to attack his confidence. What if Free doesn’t like a lot of body hair either? Teresa hated it.
“You’ve got to relax,” God whispered sternly. “You’re supposed to be unwinding after a long op.”
“I am relaxed,” Hart snarled, not meeting God’s sharp green eyes. Instead, he clamped his teeth together and held his jaw tight.
“The hell you are. You look like you’re watching a gynecological exam.” God released a deep laugh, slapping him on his back.
“Fuck you, bighead. I guess I’m not as cool as you guys. I acted all nonchalant in the break room when I asked him to come out tonight—like you told me to do—and he didn’t show up. Thanks, Cash.” Hart ground his molars, feeling like a fool, mostly an old fool, “He’s young and smart, so why—”
God’s heavy hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed him firmly. The teasing glint was gone and the deep frown in the center of his forehead told him he was being dead serious, “I’ve known you a long time, Ivan. I’ve seen you bust your ass on the force and grow into a badass captain. I’ve watched you put yourself out there for everyone else, never expecting anything in return. It’s time you added a little playtime into your busy schedule. For years, your evil ex-wife beat down your pride and your self-esteem, all while you stayed faithful to her and lied to yourself. So don’t give me that bullshit that you’re not good enough. What the fuck, man? You’re one of the most confident men I know.”
Of course Hart never considered himself insecure…not as a police officer. As a lover…definitely. His wife had persistently drilled into him how big and clumsy he was. How offensive his dense body hair and oversized parts were, and the fact he couldn’t satisfy her in their marriage…or in the bedroom.
“The women love you, Hart. They’re always cooking something for you and your department, most of them hinting at asking you out.” God shrugged. “You always take it well. So well, that they don’t even know you’re turning them down.”
“I’m not intimidated by a woman trying to be nice to me. Besides, they just feel sorry for me. The single, desperate guy whose wife suddenly up and left him because he couldn’t stop knocking over her glass swans on the coffee table,” Hart grumbled. “Besides. How come none of the men ask me out, huh?”
God looked him up and down. “Are you serious?”
“Actually, I am.”
“I can easily answer that.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“It’s simple. I told you before that you have to make yourself open.”
“I don’t wanna be open. I just want to go out with Lennox Freeman one time.” Hart finished his club soda. “You don’t think he’s out of my league? Damnit.”
“You’re not listening.” God’s voice got deeper the louder it got. “I’m telling you, if you want a chance with Free then I think you have it.”
“You sure?” Hart knew he sounded pitiful, and probably looked the part, too. God was one of the very few people in his life he could always be himself around. He didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to be strong and fearless at all times, like he was around his team. He and his best friend had both seen each other at their worst.
“I’m positive.”
“You better not be pissing on my leg and telling me it’s raining, Cash. I still find it hard to believe that a man like Free is single, not to mention interested in me.” Hart thought about ordering a whisky and him and God splitting a Lyft home. His thoughts were turning depressing.
“That’s bull.” God leaned in and said, just loudly enough for him to hear his secret over the television and the old-fashioned jukebox, “Michaels thought you were hot when he first came on the team.”
Hart almost spit out his soda. He gave his friend the side-eye, “Yeah, right. He never even looked at me like that.”