Chapter 1

“Hey, Singer. Check this out.”

Matthew Singer turned around and looked at his fellow mechanic, Jason Owen. The burly redhead was holding a bouquet of flowers and smirking at him. He didn’t know how the other man expected him to react. Was he supposed to be envious?

“So someone sent you roses, man. Big deal,” Matthew mocked his co-worker before resuming his work under the hood of the Lincoln Continental.

He had promised the customer that he would try to identify the problem with the car before lunchtime. It had been brought in early that morning by the despairing client and he had been working on it ever since. He checked the time. Damn. Thirty minutes left before lunch and he still had no idea what the hell was wrong with this stupid piece of junk

He was not arrogant or anything, but he had been touted as one of the best mechanics in the city by many of his customers. Some of them claimed that if he couldn’t deal with their car problems, then no one else would have a clue. Unfortunately, he had not been able to find anything wrong with the Lincoln for the last couple of hours. He was tempted to tell the customer to simply buy a new car instead of having it repaired because it might be cheaper in the long run. Only his ego and sense of professionalism prevented him from doing just that.

“Ah-ha. Correction. First of all, I am holding exactly fifty red roses. According to Mr. Google, that represents ‘unconditional love.’ Someone is fucking rich and generous to have bought so many roses. They must have cost a bomb. Second, these beautiful roses are not for me.” Jason had emphasized the words “unconditional love” and his tone of voice was becoming more gleeful by the second, which Matthew knew from experience would lead to nothing good. He was proven right. “Someone, let me repeat, someone, has the hots for you, Matty-baby.”

Jason guffawed and slapped his thighs as if he had told the funniest joke ever. His whole body was shaking with laughter. Matthew heaved a resigned sigh and looked up to the sky. All right, he was looking at the inside of the car’s hood, but that was just semantics. Whatever. He had become used to the other man’s odd sense of humor after working together for many years. He turned around to face the other man and leaned back against the car before crossing both arms and pasting a smirk on his face.

“Aww, Jason Owie,” Matthew began in the most sarcastic tone he could muster. “Are you jealous of little old me? Don’t worry, my itty-bitty Owie. Papa Matty is more than willing to share a stalk or two of those roses with you. I know how to share my things. I learned that back in kindergarten, you know?”

Jason harrumphed, pushed the bouquet of roses towards Matthew’s chest none-too-gently, and gave him a middle-finger salute before walking away. Matthew snickered at the other man’s juvenile behavior. He loved getting the final word in any argument and this time was no exception. Being the winner in this argument made him feel better. Besides, Jason should have known better than to get into a battle of wits against him. He had been winning most of their arguments since day one. It occurred to him that some people, especially Jason, simply never learned to cut their losses and keep their mouths shut.

“Come on, Jase. Take a joke, man,” Matthew shouted at Jason’s retreating back. “I’m only kidding.”

“Fuck you, Matt,” Jason retorted. “Fuck you.”

“State the time and place, buddy.”

Matthew laughed out loud when Jason threw him a dirty look.

“My dick is for my girl.”

“I know, but it’s so much fun teasing you.”

“Whatever. I’m going to call Linda now. It’s almost lunch time. See you later.”

“Alright, man. Later,” Matthew replied easily before leaning closer to the bouquet of roses in his hand and taking a deep sniff. Wow. The scent was amazing.

He almost didn’t notice the small envelope that was tucked in at the edge of the bouquet because it had been slipped in slightly deeper, making it almost invisible. He pulled it out and slid out the card inside before reading the content.

Matt,

These roses are beautiful. They remind me of you, of your pretty…Damn. I can’t come up with something poetic enough. You know what? Fuck it. You’re my boyfriend and I’m allowed to be as corny as I want to be. You’re so much more beautiful than the most beautiful flower. I’m the luckiest motherfucker in the whole wide world because you love me back. I love you, Matthew Singer. Happy Valentine’s Day.