“It just seems so unlikely.” I waved my hands and moved him around since he was still holding on to me. “Nine hundred ninety-nine people out of a thousand never see a dead body outside of a funeral home. Did you know? The statistic is a little smaller than that, but it’s not large. Most people don’t see death. Most people run away from violence. You’re inferring to me that the only two men who want me or will put up with me—and let’s be clear, you volunteered Cillian, he didn’t say that himself yet—might be up to their eyeballs in this violence we aren’t talking about. I know it’s real, but it doesn’t feel real. I am hearing you, it’s just....” I shrugged, at a loss how to explain myself.
Rowen snorted and shook his head at me. “Aye, it’s real.”
“Well, that just doesn’t work.”
“Why not?” he asked with bemusement.
“I already told you. There are facts and numbers involved here.” He grabbed my elbow and steered me back to the middle of the sidewalk. I’d been paying attention to him instead of where we were going, and he was shaking his head at me. “It would be like hitting a home run twice in a row or getting hit by a bus and then elected president. It just doesn’t make sense. Humans like to tell stories. We’re steeped in myth and legend. I think most of the mob stories are just that—urban legends. It’s too outlandish that Ricky Morrisey ripped his neighbor’s dog in half and had the ass end stuffed and left it on their dining room table, all because they refused to trim their oak trees. Who does anything like that?” I took a deep breath to keep going, but he squeezed my fingers and rubbed at his temple with his other hand.
“Angel, I’m telling ye this because I do care. Ye can’t ask about our work. Ye can’t ask me. Ye can’t ask Cillian. Fallon’s aneejit, so don’t ask him, because if he tells ye, ye’ll get him into trouble. Aspen don’t talk much, but ye shouldn’t ask him, neither. I know yer mind runs away with ye, but let it go somewhere else.”
“Like to how hard your nipples might get if I nibble them?”
His mouth fell open and he laughed. “Ye’re not going to let that go, are ye?”
“Apparently not.” I casually reached down and rearranged myself as we walked, sending my dick off to the right instead of in an awkward scrunch. “Didn’t know it was something that I’d like until you brought it up, to be honest.”
The rest of our walk was more or less quiet, and we discussed everyday things like how he needed to talk to the person who cut the grass on their lawn because it was too long, and the fact that he wanted to wash their vehicles this weekend. It was so cute that he thought he and Cillian were dangerous when he was worried about the grass and what the neighbors might think.
“Let’s take this right,” Rowen said, and he led me all around his nice neighborhood and onward through a small area lit with bright lights. There were quaint decorated windows that belonged to local businesses. We passed a Korean grocery store with a vibrant sign that hilariously, to me, anyway, had Korean Grocery Store in tiny yellow letters stuck in a corner, as if the owner couldn’t care less if anyone who couldn’t read the much larger Hangul characters knew what was inside the building.
“Let’s go in,” I said with a grin. Despite the fun sign, the store was fairly standard inside, with row upon row of groceries, the main difference being that a lot of the labels were in Hangul, and much of the candy and snack foods seemed to be imported. As soon as I spotted it, I almost dragged Rowen over to a pastry display case taking up the back wall. There were breads, cookies, cakes, and even good old American doughnuts. I squeaked when I saw what I was hoping for.
“These look good.” He peeked in with interest, and I grinned.
“Most of these are rice cookies and cakes. I know they have a name. Uh....” I pointed at a square rice cake in the glass display case that was decorated beautifully with pine nuts and raisins and dried cranberries to resemble flowers. “Thejatseolgiare delicious. We had an East Asian history professor, Dr. Gim. He used to bring them in to share over boring meetings. I loved him. He had perfectly silver hair and always combed it to the side. He would teach me Korean while we waited for everyone else to stop talking.” I grinned at Rowen.
“Hm, weren’t ye supposed to be paying attention during those meetings?” Rowen’s lips twitched like he wanted to laugh.
“Well, Lor goes with me. And he takes notes on anything important.” I was quick to stand up straight so I could better defend myself. “It’s not like there’s ever a shortage of people who want to sit with me during the meetings and talk. I never pay attention,” I mumbled. The light heat of embarrassment flushed up my chest and tingled across my cheeks. I rubbed at the back of my neck.
He frowned. “Who does that now? Still this Mr. Gim?”
“Doctor. No, he left for a chair position somewhere. Now it’s Dr. Rosen.”
Rowen’s eyebrows lowered and he shook his head. “Sounds like they don’t mind that ye don’t focus. Maybe they put someone with ye to keep ye occupied.” He scowled, and I paused, tapping the display case glass. Suddenly the cakes didn’t look as good.
“You mean I have to be there, but they keep me busy like a child,” I grumbled.
“Didn’t say that.” He brought my hand up and kissed the back. “Just seems to me that if they cared about yer career as much as ye seem to think they do, they might encourage ye to keep up with the important bits of it.”
“You’re probably right,” I mumbled. “Can we go back to your place?”
He tugged me around to look at him, but I had trouble doing it, so I stared at his Adam’s apple and the way it moved in his neck. “Ye’re upset.”
“No. Yes. Maybe? Would you like dessert?”
“Aye, let’s.”
Rowen kissed my cheek and joked with me until I felt good enough to pick out the cakes for us, but even though I’d chosen the most expensive ones, he insisted on paying, and literally took my wallet from me and tucked it back in my pocket when I tried to protest.
The elderly woman who rang us up at the register was even more ancient than she was entertained by my poor attempt at Korean. She laughed. I caught what I thought was “thank you” and “have a nice night.” As I took the bag and turned to leave, she caught my hand and pressed a candy into my palm, so I thought maybe she appreciated the effort. I popped it into my mouth and was delighted with the sharp ginger kick. Rowen shook his head at me when we were back outside on the sidewalk and opened the bag. He picked out a cake with a red flower decoration on top and bit into it.
He chewed and swallowed. “Flavor’s subtle. ’S good.”
“Mm,” I agreed. Between us we finished off the treats, and he dumped the bag into a garbage can at a corner as we passed. This was nice, and in its own way as calming as a run would have been, even if it didn’t burn off as much energy. By the time we got back to the lawn at the front of his house I was in a strange mood. No one had mentioned my apartment to me, not once, and I got the feeling that if I did ask, Rowen would just tell me not to worry about it right now.
I sighed. “I’m not very good at leaving big questions alone. Especially questions that are so interesting.” Nearby a couple of crickets held a symphony, and it was a light music that almost put me in a trance when he turned to stare at me. He tipped my chin up and laid a kiss on my lips that had my toes curling in my shoes.
