The relief, coupled with the extra closeness, made Arthur dizzier than the view. “You’re getting brave about the height,” he said easily, like it was no big deal, like he had adorable paranormals in his lap all the time.
“Nah, still don’t like it.” Rory turned his face up to Arthur, soft skin close, dark eyes bright behind the glasses. “But I know I’m safe, ’cause you got me.”
Arthur’s heart was still stuttering from the unexpected faith when Rory’s gaze fell to his mouth. “I got you too, Ace. If you want me.”
Arthur was three hundred feet above civilization with Rory’s lips only inches away. He was bending his head before he could stop himself—
The shrill ring of a warning bell split the air. They sprang apart like guilty teenagers, Rory scooting at least three feet over. There was a loud screech as the cables on the other side of the building shifted to bring up the third lift and construction workers. Lunch was over.
Arthur ground his teeth. Rory was very carefully not looking at him. “You’ve got me too?” he said pointedly. Rory had tilted his head, had been reaching for the kiss too, Arthur wasn’t imagining this, he wasn’t the only one feeling it, hewasn’t—
Rory squirmed, still not meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Well, yeah, I mean, obviously I’ll bring you sandwiches.”
“Sandwiches.” Arthur folded his arms. “Sure,” he said lightly, narrowed eyes locked on Rory. “I hear the Italians make some good ones. I might have to get me one of those.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sandwiches?
In his armchair at the shop, Rory pulled his cap down to his nose and his knees up to his chest, curling in a ball to steep in his humiliation.
Had he really tried to pretend his shameless come-on was aboutsandwiches?
There was no way to get around it: at the top of Manhattan, he’d almost kissed Arthur.
He’d almost kissed Arthur.
He let his head fall back against the chair. Arthur’s lips had been barely breathing room from his own and he could’ve sworn Arthur’d been moving closer too. But he couldn’t’ve been, could he? Even if he’d neck with a man, a fella like that wouldn’t want Rory, a lump of coal to Arthur’s Hope Diamond.
Rory sighed, shoulders drooping. What did he know about kissing anyway? He shouldn’t be getting ideas. Arthur had offered to send both Rory and Mrs. Brodigan to a safe country paradise—why couldn’t Rory just be grateful for that?
Mrs. Brodigan poked her head into the office. “You seem particularly broody this afternoon. Something on your mind, lovey?”
I went up to the clouds where I almost kissed Ace and then tried to save face with a sandwich. Rory coughed. “I don’t understand Arthur Kenzie.”
“Ah.” She came into the small room and took her seat at her desk. “Well, I daresay he’s a complicated man, but you’re a smart lad. What’s got you puzzled?”
“I don’t know what he wants from me.”
“Well, let’s see,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s paid you for your work and sent you home in cabs with food. Far as I can tell, he wants you to be safe and whole.”
“Butwhy?” said Rory. “Why would someone like Ace care what happens to someone like me?”
“Why do firefighters care about people trapped in burning buildings? Or nurses for patients, foster parents for orphans—or soldiers, for the freedom and safety of the innocent?” Mrs. Brodigan tilted her head. “Some people see suffering that isn’t their own and still try to help, for no other reason than it’s the right thing to do.”
Rory furrowed his brow. “You think that’s all it is?”
“I think you’re looking very hard for some hidden bad intentions,” she said. “But if you ask me, all our handsome Mr. Kenzie is trying to hide is a big heart.”
A heart big enough to care about even a scruffy bastard from Hell’s Kitchen who’d told him to screw off. Rory chewed on his lip. “What do you think of him?” He quickly tapped his chest and added dryly, “His insides. I already know what you think of his outsides.”
She smiled. “I like him. Hard not to—Mr. Kenzie is a very charming young man.” Her smile faded. “And I think he’s lonely. He strikes me as a man who doesn’t thrive in solitude.”
There’s no one,Arthur had said. Apparently it’s endless bachelorhood for me.
Rory frowned. “How can Ace be lonely? He’s kind, and he’s funny, and he says and does the nicest things—”
“And now you know whatyouthink of his insides,” she said mildly.
