Mackenzie wasn’t exactly known for being the nicest bloke on the block. God no, far from it. He was known for being the prick who runs the police department.

Which was why it had surprised people that his husband, you, was a bumbling ex-baker who had turned to writing novels and newspaper articles. You were gentle, soft and caring. You remembered everyone, treating them as if you’d been mates years and genuinely taking interest. He knew you were like that but when they suggested you help? Never.

He had watched you come in, the lads in the office immediately suggesting you try talk to the press about being horrible to police, you strides toward him.