Tequila Mockingbird (18 page)

Really, maybe. But for all the shit things that hit us, life’s been okay. Good even. Sionn. Kane. Hell, even Brigid when she’s not too fucking crazy. Kane says he thanks God for me all the time. Kinda nice to be in there, you know?

Oh, is that what I’m hearing when he’s screaming in the middle of the night, Oh fucking God? A prayer? Shit, and here I’ve been thinking you’ve been getting some.

—
Rooftop Writing Session

I
T
’
D
BEEN
definitely a kiss. Forest was damned sure of it. It didn’t last long. And when the damned cheerful smiling woman with her white buck teeth burst in just as Forest was about to take a breath to ask for another, Connor was shoved aside and a long needle was plunged into Forest’s unsuspecting IV, sending him off into la-la land before he could tell her to get the fuck out.

If anything, he was more pissed off he hadn’t gotten a good taste of the man before the drugs took him under, and when morning hit, as bright and sunny as that damned nurse, he didn’t have it in him to ask Connor what the hell happened.

Because Forest suspected he’d been crazy from the pain, and he’d hallucinated the whole thing.

He’d been released into Connor’s care, and there’d been a quick chat about getting Forest’s things. Problem was, Forest didn’t know where exactly he and his things were supposed to be going. Hazy from the mild confusion he’d woken up with, he’d been lost in his thoughts for what seemed like an instant, but suddenly, the Hummer was pulling up in front of the Amp.

Now, instead of being able to grill Connor like he’d hoped, the world seemed to be crawling with Morgans, and he couldn’t really open up to the one he actually wanted to talk to. Two redheads and a couple of tall black-haired men. He counted four people, and then another man popped out of the back of the building. From a distance, he looked to be the other detective Forest met earlier, a supposition kind of confirmed when Kiki, the younger of the two redheads, ambled over to talk to him about something.

The building was a mess. Someone’d covered the front with plywood, but the whole building seemed to be wreathed in crime-scene tape. The two detectives he knew were stomping around the perimeter, debating something, from what Forest could see. The others milled about, and the taller of the two men spotted Connor’s Hummer, saying something unintelligible, but it caught everyone’s interest, and they turned, en masse, to stare at the vehicle.

Then they began to move toward it like a zombie herd drawn to an all-you-can-eat brain buffet.

It was like watching a scene from the
Ten Commandments
or a live-action D&D game with a cleric turning the undead. Connor held up his hand and shook his head. As one, the shambling horde stopped, then slowly backed away. Forest wondered if he could get Con to show up for studio sessions, because if it was one thing he hated, it was gathering up musicians when it was time to play. They were like the mindless dead. Or close enough.

“Dude, you parted them like the Red Sea. I’m impressed.” Forest whistled under his breath. “You do the whole salt pillar thing too?”

Connor ignored him for long enough Forest was beginning to wonder if he’d somehow offended him. Sighing, Con gripped the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white and then let go, sliding his hands down to rest in his lap.

“I’ve got to talk to you. Before we go out there. Before—shit—before everything.” Dire wasn’t a word Forest thought of often, but a tint of it was in Connor’s voice as he spoke. “We need to talk. Well, I need to talk and then see how you’re feeling. I hadn’t planned on everyone being here, so I’m sorry we’re not going to have the privacy I’d wanted.”

“And not like you can drive away. We’ve been seen.” Forest eyed the milling small crowd. “They could break out the pitchforks at any time. I guess that’s your family.”

“Not even half of them,” Con drawled. “That’s my mum. She’s going to take over your life. Whether you want her to or not. She scares the fuck out of Miki, and that’s no mean feat. He’s not someone easily shaken. The other two are my brothers, Kane and Riley. Kiki, you know.”

“And they’re here, why?” He cocked his head, taking a quick glance out of the window.

“Because you’re not going to stay here. The place is unstable, and I think someone’s trying to kill you.” Connor’s words shocked him, driving Forest into a stunned silence, and what followed did nothing to help his nerves. “And we need to talk about you and… me.”

“Yeah, I’m getting a bit confused—”

“You and me both,” Connor muttered.

“You’re straight—”

“I’m… exploring that.” The man shrugged, then turned to face him. “Forest, I need you to listen. Because what I’m going to tell you… what I’m going to ask you is going to be hard. Can you do that? Just hear me out?”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded and tried to dismiss the fact Connor’s family hovered outside, their eyes glancing curiously toward the Hummer with every passing moment. “But you kissed me, right? I didn’t read that wrong.”

“No, you got that part right. Hell, probably the only part of this that’s right.” Con rubbed at his face for a moment, then reached for Forest’s hands.

Con’s hands were warm, warmer than his own, and practically engulfed Forest’s long fingers. Still, they felt good, and Forest bit his lip before saying, “Okay. Shoot. What’s up?”

“I’ve never dated a man. Hell, I’ve never even really accepted I’ve looked at men. These past couple of weeks—with what’s happened to you—it’s changed….” He exhaled, and his grip tightened. “I got scared when the wall fell in. Like I’ve never been scared before. All of a sudden, me being—loving another man—didn’t seem like such a big fucking deal. It didn’t scare me as much as me finding you dead. Because that’s what terrified me. That I’d find you under all of those bricks, and I wouldn’t have the chance to tell you—I wanted you. I want you. In my life. However I can get that. I don’t know.”

“But you’re
straight
.” Forest blinked, unable to process what Connor was telling him. “You—fuck. Dude, you said—Con….”

“I know what I said. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Because things haven’t really changed as much as I’ve got to man up and accept who I am. Who I want to love. Shit, it changes how the world sees me, but I’ve got to be honest and say, it shouldn’t change who I am.” Connor’s blue eyes were bright, shimmering in the pale, watery light. “I don’t know you as well as I should. Hell, you don’t know me as well as I’d like. But there’s something about you that sticks with me. You make me want to be brave enough to cross this line and say I want to love a man. The question here is, will you let me have that chance?”

“So you’re gay now? Shit, that sounds… I sound stupid.” He wasn’t going to let go of Connor’s hands, but Forest didn’t know what to think. In the middle of a shit storm, he’d somehow found someplace—someone—to shelter him. But the man needed as much sheltering as Forest did, and Connor was asking Forest to be the someone to walk with him through his storms. “But you’re asking
me
to…
dude
.”

“I’m not saying I’m anything other than… well, who I should have been before. Do I like women? Yeah, some of them do it for me. It’s just that I was too fucking much of a coward to admit, some guys—you, in particular—drive me crazy too,” Connor said ruefully. “All I’m asking here is for you to just to give me a chance… that’s it. While I explore who I am. Hell, while I explore you.”

Connor’s grin was lopsided, and Forest spotted a tiny chip in one of his front teeth. It made the large man human. More human. Because up until then, Connor only needed a giant
S
on his chest, and Forest wouldn’t have taken much convincing to believe Con was a superhero. Not that he needed any convincing at all.

“Have you seen you?” Forest whispered. If he’d thought the Amp’s walls falling on him nearly killed him, he hadn’t even contemplated the danger of Connor Morgan coming out to him in a Hummer while his family looked on. “You’re like… sex and muscles and hot. And Irish. God, the accent. Kills me. And you dug me out of a fucking building! I’m having a hard time believing you’d want
me
.”

“Have you seen you?” Connor parroted, laughing at Forest’s wrinkled nose and snorted disgust. “You’re funny and a little bit too quiet, but I like making you laugh. It’s like a small gift—honeycomb for my heart. I’m finding I’ve got a preference for rough-around-the-edges, handsome blonds. I like that it doesn’t feel like I’m going to break you. Hell, you’ve survived a wall, so I’m hoping you’d be willing to try surviving my bad attempts at sex. Because I won’t know what I’m doing. It’ll all be new for me.”

“You’re a virgin?” Forest eyed him. “Yeah, pull the one between my legs. Like you’ve never worked that dick into someone.”

“Heh, no.” Connor barked a laugh. “Okay, yeah. Not a virgin, and yeah, the mechanics of sex is the same. Guess I’d also know how to work a cock—yours if I need to—if you want me to. I’ve worked my own for years.”

“I cannot believe I’m having this conversation.” Forest finally pulled a hand free so he could rub at his temple. “I’m in a coma, right? My head hurts, and my brain’s just walking me through a life simulation so I don’t get bored while everyone decides to pull the plug or not.”

“No coma,” Connor promised. “But if you
are
asleep, maybe this will wake you up.”

It was stupid. Probably the worst pickup line Forest’d ever heard. And he’d heard plenty. Mostly involving his ass and money with promises of a cock inside the first to get the second. When he’d gotten older—and just a little bit wiser—his hookups were casual, sometimes little more than a couple of shots of tequila and a head nod toward a back room.

Most of his “dates” included talking. Most had some kind of kissing involved. None—until now—included the possibility of forever.

A forever he wanted to pull over himself the exact moment Connor Morgan’s mouth touched his and took Forest’s breath when Con inhaled.

So many things were happening at once—too many for Forest to slide into his memory, even if his cracked head was willing to gather it all up anyway. The hands that’d held his a few seconds ago were cupping his face, Con’s rough calluses strangely soothing on the tender skin of his neck and jaw. The man’s mouth was wicked enough to be illegal, because whomever taught him to kiss had fallen from the heavens to hell. It was a descent from angelic bliss to deliciously sinful, with a stop in between.

He relaxed into the seat, letting Connor push him back into the upholstery. Forest opened his mouth, silently begging Connor to slide in. The man took the invitation and stole more of Forest’s lips, nipping at the tip of Forest’s tongue before plundering deeper. Forest couldn’t breathe—didn’t really want to. Connor’s mouth was a smooth, powerful glide over his lips, and when their tongues met, it turned into a delicate, sweet dance—a ballet amid the battle.

Those glorious hands were everywhere. Down the sides of Forest’s body, then across his hips, holding him down for a moment. Then he shifted so Forest could get his arms around Connor’s shoulders. He felt safe and wanton, a curious blend of sweet innocence and hot desire. There was more to sex in Connor’s kiss. Odd from a man who up until that moment, hadn’t really owned up to wanting another man, yet Forest couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

The kiss ended as it began, an explosive pop of Connor sliding around him, and then Forest was left gasping, his body aching more for the man who’d kissed him than for the oxygen his lungs seemed to be demanding. His mouth felt swollen, and more than his head ached. His cock was climbing up his thigh, trapped by his underwear, and his tongue longed for more, missing the feel of Connor’s lips and teeth.

Forest was startlingly and suddenly empty, as if Connor’d pulled free of the clench of Forest’s body—even if it was only a kiss.

And outside, the world continued to spin, although the only sound Forest heard was the crumbling smack of a brick falling clear of the wall and hitting the sidewalk below. He didn’t want to look out the window. There was an eerie silence there, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it. Not yet. Not when he could pretend his entire life existed in the confines of a giant black square car and the man nearly lounging on top of him.

“So, yeah. That chance? It’s yours.” Forest swallowed and asked, “Does the family know about the not-quite-straight? The ones probably staring at us right now?”

“A couple of them do,” Connor confessed. “None of whom are here. But shite, I guess they know now, don’t they?”

“S
O
….” K
ANE
started off, falling into step with Connor. “A guy.”

Just beyond the circle of crime tape, Forest stood with his hands shoved into his jeans. Connor’d begged one of the orderlies to toss Forest’s clothes in the wash so he’d have something clean to wear. Most of the bloodstains came out of his T-shirt, but a few spots remained, mottling the already dingy white fabric. His jeans survived pretty much intact, as did his underwear, and Connor’d spent an uncomfortable night knowing the man he lusted for lay practically naked on the bed with only a few blankets keeping his modesty.

The world felt lighter. A bit warier, but definitely lighter. Until he spotted his mother coming toward him, and then the already shy sun took the cowardly way out and hid behind a cloud, taking what little heat it’d been willing to share with it.

“A word with you, Connor Donal Morgan. Kane, you go off and make sure that boy’s safe from your sister. I’m going to have a few moments with your brother.” Brigid Morgan, scourge of Catholic school nuns and school boards alike, descended on them like a fully armed galleon cutting through pirate-infested waters. For a short woman, she always seemed larger in Connor’s mind, probably because he’d grown up with her fierce temper and even fiercer spirit.

There’d be no question of her loving him—he’d never even imagined his mother turning away from him—but oh, he’d get the hide stripped off his ass for not telling her beforehand.