Chapter Fifteen
R ebel was a stunner.
The young man had the looks and body of a runway model, but not the height.
Crow’s hands itched to touch, so he tucked them into the pockets of his coat. Rebel walked up to him and Crow grabbed the wool coat he’d bought the man. Holding out the heavy wool, Rebel slid his arms inside.
“Are you hungry?” Crow smoothed the coat over Rebel’s shoulders. It was a perfect fit and looked sexy as hell.
“I’m starving.”
Crow drew Rebel out of the store and onto the street. “There’s tons of places to eat.”
With a full belly, Rebel stood inside the Griffith Observatory gazing up at the massive mythology of the sky mural on the ceiling before looking at the murals on the walls that were paintings of the sciences, engineering, and time.
A Foucault Pendulum hung from a wire down from the ceiling and swung back and forth across the floor below.
The young man gazed over the edge of the retaining wall and down at the pendulum for several minutes.
The fall of dark curls had Crow itching to brush it back, but he couldn’t drag his eyes from Rebel’s face.
Rebel seemed to find it fascinating that the pendulum would swing along and knock over pegs below.
“It’s designed to show that the earth is turning in real-time,” Crow said and Rebel flashed him a quick smile.
Crow touched the young man’s arm and drew him through the rest of the museum before leading Rebel outside.
“What night of the week does Jimmy Lincoln go to the club?” he asked, guiding Rebel with a hand at his back to the curb. There, Crow ordered a car to take them back to the hotel.
“Fridays.”
“So, tomorrow night,” Crow murmured and slid into the back seat of the car after crowding Rebel to scoot over.
“Yeah. I should probably call the house and let him know I’ll be at the club tomorrow,” Rebel said, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.
“I doubt he knows you didn’t get the money from that couple,” Crow said. “But just in case, let’s get the cash to give him at the club. That will give you an excuse to find him there.”
“True…but that’s a lot of money.”
“How much?”
“Two thousand dollars.”
Crow wanted to laugh.
If he broke down the money he earned with each job he took, it would equal way more than two thousand an hour. Add that up, plus his inheritance from his grandfather, and he had a lot of fucking money.
Crow kept the thought to himself, though. There was no sense in stating the obvious. Rebel had to know that assassins made bank. Even the week Rebel had worked for Erebus, the guy should have come away with several grand.
Crow sent Real a text message to get him background and any information available on Jimmy Lincoln.
“What kind of jobs did you take with Erebus?” he asked, tucking his phone away.
“I didn’t.”
“Wait…what?” Crow frowned, tucking away his phone in the breast pocket of his suit. “You worked there a week before you were benched.”
“Savage said I wasn’t ready for any job until he trusted me.”
Crow frowned. “I’m sure his intentions were good.”
“Maybe. I told him to fuck off and walked out.” Rebel turned to gaze out the car window.
Crow was at a loss for words so he stayed silent.
Crow found a decent spot in their hotel lounge and slid into the booth next to Rebel.
“I love your suit.” Rebel ran his gaze over him, sending warmth deep into Crow’s gut.
“Wait until you see the one I wear tomorrow,” Crow said and there was a promise in his voice that made Rebel flush.
As the waitress approached, Rebel touched the top of his hand and whispered. “I can’t drink.”
“Isn’t that a fake ID in your wallet?” Crow smirked and barely refrained from linking their fingers.
Rebel eyed him and then snorted. “Yes, and a very good one at that.”
“I know, I checked it out.”
“You seriously don’t mind if I drink at eighteen?”
“I’m not your parent.” Crow scowled.
“Okay,” Rebel laughed and the sound caught Crow off guard.
He was sure he’d heard Rebel’s laughter before, but not this particular tone. It sounded like honey and kisses and all kinds of shit he shouldn’t be thinking about.
Keeping them away from the hotel room upstairs had been for his own sanity.
The waitress made it to their table and Rebel ordered an alcoholic drink. Crow hid his smile and handed Rebel one of the food menus.
The only reason he wasn’t making a big deal about Rebel’s underage drinking was because he was right there by the younger man’s side.
“I need to see your ID,” the waitress said and looked the card over when Rebel handed it to her. “Thanks, hon.” She handed it back.
“I’ll just have a beer on tap,” Crow said.
“Ew, I hate beer.”
The woman smiled and moved on to the next table.
“You’re lucky that ID worked,” Crow said with an amused whisper.
“Of course, it worked,” Rebel said and laughed.
The lounge grew noisy at around nine o’clock and people started dancing.
Rebel had already finished his drink and was taking sips from Crow’s second glass of beer.
“Be careful. Vodka soda doesn’t really go with beer,” Crow warned.
“I don’t care,” Rebel announced and got up on his knees in the booth. With elbows resting on the seat, Rebel bobbed to the beat of the band.
Turned sideways a bit, Crow ran his gaze over the man’s slender frame, the happy smile on Rebel’s face, and the way the new clothes fit his body perfectly.
Crow wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but Rebel turned around a bit and dipped his head down, placing a kiss on his lips.
The room stopped.
All sound faded and Crow cupped the back of Rebel’s head, sinking his fingers into rich black curls. He deepened the kiss and Rebel opened his mouth, nipping at his lips.
Explosions rocked through Crow.
As the kiss went on, the heat grew, and when Crow finally eased back, Rebel’s mouth followed him, nipping and licking.
Crow planted one hand on Rebel’s chest to keep them apart. The man panted and held his gaze.
For the love of all that was holy…
What the hell was he doing?
“What’s going on?” Crow had to ask before he did something stupid that he couldn’t take back.
“We’re doing a test run for tomorrow night. This is you being my boyfriend practice.”
Rebel smiled impishly and so help him God, Crow forgot his own name for a moment.