Page 34 of The Professional
“I know,” Forrest said quietly, “ but that doesn’t mean I can’t chat with him when I have time. Like I said before, everyone wants to feel a connection, Rourke. Even you.”
The words startled Rourke into looking at Forrest, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Is that your way of telling me you’re playing with my need for connection to get what you want?”
“What?” Forrest laughed. “You’re a very suspicious person. No, I’m not. I actually like you.”
“Yeah? You don’t know me, Forrest.”
“I can read you.” He pulled them to a stop in front of an ice cream parlor and turned to look at Rourke, his green eyes twinkling. “For example, you follow the rules because you’re afraid of breaking them like your father did. You’re religious, but not crazy about it. You wear that cross around your neck because you believe in a higher power, you don’t know what that being is, though. It’s not necessarily God that you believe in.”
“How do you know that?” Rourke’s lips twitched and he hid the smile that threatened to curl at his mouth by ducking his head.
“Because you don’t bless your food before you eat, you don’t thank God, and you don’t pray. Shall I continue?”
Rourke shook his head and tapped Forrest on the nose. “Don’t get all high and mighty. You’re right, I don’t do any of those things aroundyou.”
Forrest’s nose crinkled. “So you do those things, just not around me. Why?”
Rourke pulled Forrest into the empty parlor. He didn’t expect it to be crowded, especially considering it was freezing outside and not many people were after something cold. They could buy coffee in here, too, and it was nice to get out of the cold and into the heated store.
Forrest tugged on his arm when he didn’t answer. “Do you think I’d be insulted by it?”
“No.” Then he sighed. “Maybe. Some people are.”
“Well I wouldn’t be,” Forrest argued quietly, ignoring the jovial man that came out from an open door behind the selection of ice cream. He hung back, clearly aware of the quiet conversation Rourke and Forrest were having. “I don’t care what people believe, Rourke, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”
“You’re right, though,” Rourke whispered. “I believe in a higher power, maybe even God, but I’m not obsessed with my religion. So I don’t pray all the time, or bless my food. I mostly do that when I’m around my family.”
“Oh.” Forrest’s grip on his arm loosened.
“Come on, do you want ice cream or not?”
That seemed to put the spring back into Forrest’s step. He shifted closer to the glass-fronted display case, staring at the wide range of flavors. Rourke hung right behind him, frowning at some of the selections that didn’t sound very enticing.
“Hello, Forrest,” the clerk finally said with a grin.
“Hey, Mr. Morello.” They chatted for a bit, talking about the weather and how slow the store had been. Rourke took the chance to walk along the case, analyzing the ice cream and gelato until he decided he wasn’t crazy enough to have something cold.
“Rourke, did you want anything? My treat.” Forrest nudged him with his shoulder, grinning.
“I’ll just have a small cappuccino with two sugars.”
The man behind the counter nodded and then Forrest paid him.
Rourke grabbed a table. One other person sat in the store—a woman in the corner with her nose stuck in a book—and there were at least ten places to choose from. Rourke chose one by the window so they could watch passersby.
Forrest plopped into the seat opposite to him and showed him his cup of ice cream. “Rainbow. Want some?”
Rourke almost said no, but Forrest shoved a spoonful in his face, and he didn’t have a choice but to open his mouth. He sucked on the plastic spoon and swallowed the ice cream. The coldness made him shiver, but it tasted sweet on his tongue.
Forrest watched him carefully, licking his own lips. “You missed some.”
“No, I didn’t—”
Forrest leaned over, grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him into a hot kiss that had Rourke’s blood heating up until the chill of the cold food was nothing but a memory. Forrest poked his tongue into Rourke’s mouth, and Rourke grabbed his face, deepening the kiss until Forrest whimpered against his lips.
Someone cleared their throat and Rourke broke the kiss to smile apologetically at the clerk. He smiled, clearly expecting no apology, and placed the takeout cup on the table in front of Rourke before walking away.
Forrest blinked dazedly at Rourke, face flushed and lips already swollen. “Wow. You’re an amazing kisser.”
