A Preacher's Passion by Lutishia Lovely

bubbly.”
    Darius laughed. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just that you’re my best friend in the world. It’s hard not to share everything with you.”
    This had the desired effect, as complimenting Bo always did. “Go on in there and take those clothes off, boy,” Bo said with a grin. “And don’t worry, double-oh-eight will give you a break tonight.”
    After a quick change into cashmere sweats, Darius joined Bo on the couch. “What’s TYS?” he asked, taking the champagne flute Bo held out to him.
    “To—yo’—self,” Bo said, punctuating every word. He lifted his glass. “Cheers.”
    They spent several moments in companionable silence, enjoying the champagne. Two flutes later, Bo decided he did want to hear what had happened with Stacy, and Darius obliged him. Bo couldn’t have been happier that Stacy was harping on Darius about Bo always being around, and that she kept bugging Darius for them to get engaged. Watching Darius’s reactions to her pleas had helped Bo change his strategy. He’d become the patient, noncomplaining (well, not much anyway), empathizing partner, the one always there with a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to hear. Bo figured that the more Stacy showed her ass, and the less he did, the faster Darius would realize which one of them he truly wanted.
    Bo walked into the kitchen and came back with a snack tray of mini sandwiches and a pile of colorful root vegetable chips.
    “Thank you, baby,” Darius exclaimed. “I was just sitting here trying to remember the last time I ate.”
    Bo set the tray down and headed toward the bedroom.
    “Did that skank ho fuck you senseless and leave your stomach empty?” he asked over his shoulder.
    Darius laughed. “Something like that. And, Bo, I’ve told you. Stop calling her that. It’s not right—disrespectful to women in general and Stacy in particular. Bo, do you hear me?”
    “Sorry,” Bo mumbled, with as much sincerity as there was pork in a kosher butcher shop.
    Darius finished a salami and turkey combo with melted provolone cheese in three bites. “She can’t cook like you anyway,” he said when Bo returned to the room. “These are so good. What did you do, zap them in the microwave?”
    “No, baby, only the best for you. Those are oven baked, and I got the rolls from this kosher bakery in Fairfax. They’re made fresh every day.”
    Darius reached for another sandwich, this one a savory roast beef paired with roasted red and pepperoncini peppers, arugula, and Cabrales blue cheese. The savory combo burst upon his palette with the first bite. He enjoyed the flavors, his eyes closed as he slowly chewed.
    Bo fairly preened with satisfaction. “I knew you’d like that one; it’s my favorite.”
    Darius finished the first and immediately took a second bite. “Mine too,” he said around a mouthful of beef.
    The CD player switched from Joss Stone to Whitney Houston’s Greatest Hits. With “You Give Good Love” playing in the background, it seemed to Bo the perfect time to give Darius his surprise. He casually handed Darius a luxuriously wrapped packet, held together with a golden seal.
    “What’s this?”
    “Open it and find out.”
    Darius opened the packet and pulled out the contents. On top was a brochure with pictures of châteaus, a river, and nightlife scenes. Opening it, Darius saw they were pictures of Quebec, Canada.
    “What’s this?” Darius repeated. “You going somewhere?”
    “Not without you,” Bo said as he snuggled closer to Darius. Darius had told Bo months ago about wanting to visit Quebec, Canada, after seeing a television documentary on the province. Bo had begun planning a holiday trip shortly after that conversation. Quebec was one of three cities in Canada that performed and recognized same-sex marriages, a subject Bo and Darius had also casually discussed.
    Darius opened the second brochure. It was a flight itinerary, outlining a trip to take place over the Thanksgiving holidays. “First class!