Page 55 of The Professional
Mom flushed and giggled, shifting over to Forrest and giving him a big hug. “They were my mother’s before me. You’re just adorable. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Forrest, ma’am.”
She giggled again, and Rourke’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Oh please, call me Nadene. Ma’am and Mrs. Tormey was my monster mother-in-law.”
Forrest laughed. “Thank you, Nadene.”
“So, you work with Rourke, Forrest dear?” She hooked her arm around Forrest’s elbow and steered him over to the table, patting the chair next to her usual seat. “Park yourself here.”
“Thank you.” Forrest took the chair she’d gestured to, while she took her own.
Rourke felt aptly forgotten. He shook his head at Orla, who chuckled behind her hand, and they both took seats too. Rourke chose the one on the left side of Forrest.
“Yes. We work for Sloan,” Forrest said.
“What do you do?” she asked, grin wide and eyes shining. That told Rourke she liked him, and his heart leapt at the thought. He liked Forrest, too, but that didn’t mean he could chase a happily ever after with him. Forrest was a whore, and they’d fucked once. He didn’t know why he thought bringing Forrest here was a good idea.
“Uh….” Forrest glanced at Rourke but then continued before Rourke could say anything. “I work in sales. I sell things.”
Rourke held back a snort. It wasn’t a lie. He did sell things—his ass.
“You must be very good at it for Sloan to hire you,” she said, the corners of her eyes crinkling with her smile.
“I try,” Forrest answered. His cheeks flushed, and he dropped his head in embarrassment.
“That’s all we can do in this life. Try,” she said gently. “Sloan Killough is a very admirable man.”
“I’ve only talked to him twice. He’s very charming.” Forrest grinned, and Rourke held his breath for what came next. “I almost wish I was in Conall’s shoes.”
“Are you gay, Forrest?”
“Mom!” Rourke pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That’s not something you can just ask someone.”
She huffed at him. “It’s a valid question, Rourke.”
Forrest said, “I am, Nadene. I’ve known I prefer men since I was twelve, and I found myself crushing on my foster brother.”
“Your foster brother? So you’re a foster kid? Not Irish?”
Rourke glanced at Forrest with apology. “Mom doesn’t know when to stop asking personal questions.”
Forrest waved his hand. “It’s fine. I’m not Irish. I think I might be Scottish, but I’m not sure. I never knew my parents. Went into foster care. I bounced around for a bit before I settled with my foster family, the Brassards.”
“Are they religious folks?”
Rourke sent her a glare, but she’d learned to ignore it since Rourke hit the moody teenage age.
“Yes, ma’am. Christian.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m Catholic.”
“Rourke told me.” Forrest sent Rourke a smile.
“Are you religious?” she asked, eagerly sitting forward.
Rourke hoped to avoid all topics about religion and God, but he should have known better when it came to Mom. She defined a person’s worth by what faith they believed in and how much they attended church. She wasn’t a bad person, but her views were skewed when it came to God.
Forrest shook his head. “No. I’ve never had a reason to believe in a heaven or hell. Even though the Brassards were Christian, they didn’t practice what they preached. The only reason they took me in was to look like upstanding Christians in front of their church.”
