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My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. When I turned to Farrow to see if he’d just heard what I’d heard, I saw that his jaw had dropped in sheer shock.
We spun back to a gray-faced Indigo.
Fearing he just might pass out, I cleared my throat delicately, but I also had to know, so I whispered, “I’m sorry, but did you just say he?”
Sweat dripped down the side of his face. Sending me a warning glance, he lifted his finger as if daring me to comment further.
So Farrow elected himself to be our collective spokesperson and blurted, “Not that it matters, but I thought you preferred women.”
“I do!” Indigo snapped, appearing as if he were about to burst a vein. “I’ve never had any interest otherwise.”
Farrow and I exchanged a hesitant glance before Farrow spoke again, saying, “Are you sure?”
Indy narrowed his eyes heatedly. “Did you really just ask me that? I think I know which gender makes my cock hard.”
My eyebrows arched at his blunt, unrefined words. He’d never been so crude in front of me before. This male-for-a-true-love thing really had him rattled.
And Farrow utterly enjoyed rattling his cage even more. With an amused quirk of his lips, he said, “Well, maybe you’ll learn to change your mind.”
“Change my—?” Indigo started incredulously, only to decide arguing with Farrow must not be worth it. Lofting his chin haughtily, he announced, “People are what they are and prefer what they prefer, and no amount of force or cajoling is going to get me to change my predisposition. And dammit, I like women! Understood?”
“Okay, fine,” I told him, patting his arm in reassurance. “Maybe, uh...” I glanced toward Farrow for assistance. He shrugged, no help at all.
With a groan, I turned back to my friend, and inspiration struck. “Maybe your truest love won’t be one of passion.”
He eyed me warily but said nothing, so I went on, encouraged. “Yeah, maybe you two are merely to become best friends. Like close brothers with an unbreakable bond.”
With a scoff, he shook his head. “I have never heard of a matched pair that wasn’t sexually compatible, too. Besides, it’d be more like a grandfather, grandson match between us, anyway, not brothers. He’s much too old to be—”
“He’s old?” I blinked in surprise, growing more and more curious by the moment. Fate sure had picked an interesting surprise for my bodyguard. “Just which fellow is it?”
Indigo blew out a breath and motioned vaguely with his finger. “The vendor with the hand cart, selling loaves of bread over there.”
Farrow and I turned together, making it incredibly obvious who we were checking out.
“Stop staring at him like that!” Indy hissed protectively. “You’ll unnerve him.”
But I was too busy blinking in surprise to conceal anything. “Oh!” I breathed.
Beside me, Farrow whirled to blink at Indigo, pointing openly as he cried, “Him?”
The stooped-over man did indeed look old enough to be our grandfather, possibly great-grandfather. He paused in selling his wares, watching us from across the market, completely aware we were discussing him.
His weathered skin wrinkled and sagged over his body like sheets on an unmade bed. With more weight pooling around his middle than most people kept, he stopped hobbling along with a lopsided limp where he’d slowly been pushing the cart and seemed to grow flustered and upset under our stare.
I honestly had no idea what to say about him. He didn’t even seem to be kind. His jowls hung loose from his pinched lips, and his bushy eyebrows were puckered in permanent displeasure as he moodily scowled at us for merely gazing upon him.
I turned to Farrow who was similarly struck as he stared, until he squinted and tipped his head to the side, saying, “You know, maybe he’s not—”
When he broke off suddenly, Indigo pressed hopefully, “Not what?”
Farrow waved a hand, dismissing whatever he’d been about to say. “Nothing.”
Indigo wilted in defeat. “Something’s just not right here,” he announced insistently. “My mark clearly recognizes him as mine. But…” He shook his head. “I’ve no idea what we would ever have in common.”
“Well, you’re not going to solve the mystery cowering over here with us,” I said, grasping for logic before giving him an encouraging push. “Just go over and start a conversation with the man. See what happens.”
That idea seemed to intimidate Indigo more than anything. He shifted a step in reverse. “But what do I say? He’ll think I’m insane if I announce that we’re—God. I can’t even say it. And yet…” Yearning ripped through his eyes as he returned his gaze to the bread vendor. “Just looking at him makes my heart—hey! Where’s he going?”
