Walker flushed. "Perhaps you could teach me."
"I can do that. You should check your phone to see if you've received anything more about the gas station robbery."
"At least they didn't interrupt us again."
Mark grimaced. "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to look Barrett in the eyes on Tuesday."
"I'm damn sure he's not going to be able to look you in the eyes," Walker muttered.
"At least they were cool about it," Mark said.
"We were lucky they didn't shoot us," Walker said.
"That's a bit excessive for a gas station robbery."
"I didn't mean the robbery."
Walker rubbed his heart as he thought about the moment he'd believed all his teenage nightmares had come true. Then he realized Mark was studying him closely.
"What?"
"You weren't thinking about the robbery. You were thinking about them finding us in bed together, weren’t you?"
"Didn't it bother you?" Walker challenged.
Mark shrugged. "Not really. Barrett knows I'm gay. It's not like they caught us in the middle of fucking. Be back in a few minutes."
Walker was glad Mark was out of the room and he didn't have to hide his flinch. Mark had effectively told him how casually he thought about this weekend. Any ideas Walker had about this being more than a hook-up for Mark had just been demolished. He took a deep breath. It was better that he knew the score. He'd gotten more than he expected, and he should be grateful for this amazing time with Mark.
He went over to the table and looked at the half-chopped onion. He could do the other half; he was a grown man.
When Mark returned, Walker was running his thumb under the cold water. He'd managed most of the chopping unscathed which was a miracle.
Mark exclaimed, “Are you all right?”
Walker held up his thumb. "Minor injury."
To be honest, he was proud of how far he'd gotten before the knife had slipped and sliced his thumb.
Mark chuckled, but it was gentle and not too mocking. He looked at the cut. "You're right, just a minor injury. "
He nudged Walker to one side and pulled out a medical kit from the cabinet under the sink. "Sit down, and I’ll make it all better."
Walker sat on one of the chairs. "Are you going to kiss it better?"
"I can do that."
Mark took Walker's hand in his and brought his thumb up to his lips. "There, there. All better now."
Walker studied his thumb. He could barely see where he’d sliced it. Did Mark have some sort of healing mojo as well as his physical therapy? Mark laughed when he asked that question.
"Not that I know of."
He dug around in their kit for a few minutes and came up with an antiseptic wipe and a plaster. "Dinosaur bandage or normal Band Aid? Or you can have a Disney Princess if you want, although they're very pink."
"There's nothing wrong with pink," Walker said. Mark raised an eyebrow and Walker flushed. "I like the color pink."
"Never let me deny a man his Princess."
He wiped the small cut which was barely bleeding now and covered it with a bright pink bandage. Walker studied it carefully, recognizing the yellow dress of Belle from Beauty and the Beast.
"Is that one all right?" Mark asked. "You could have Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?"
"Belle is fine."
Belle was his favorite although he wouldn’t admit it in a million years.
"Are your nieces into princesses?" Mark asked.
Walker shook his head. “Sophie is into NASCAR racing like her dad, and Hayley's a soccer fan. I don't think either of them have been into princesses. It's a great disappointment."
"My niece likes Disney princesses. When you meet her, you can watch the movies together. She’ll be thrilled."
And the world shifted again. Once more Mark was hinting there might be more to their relationship than one weekend. But it might just be a laugh and a joke. Walker couldn't take it too seriously. His heart wouldn’t survive.
Mark cleared away the med kit and then looked at the onions Walker had chopped before his accident. "Not too bad. Probably a good idea you didn't attack the carrots."
"I live on takeout," Walker protested. "Chopping vegetables is beyond me."
"I’ll learn ya, young’un. But maybe not today. One accident is enough."
Walker agreed with that idea, content to watch Mark prepare the dinner.
They talked about inconsequential stuff as Mark cooked. Mark was into sports like he was, but whereas Mark preferred baseball, Walker was into football.
"Not soccer?" Mark asked.
Walker shrugged. "I don't mind, but it's not really my thing. I prefer rugby if it's not football."
Neither of them were into hockey although Mark had played it as a teenager. Both confessed to drooling over sports stars, although Walker had kept it hidden from his family, whereas Mark had had posters on the wall.
"I'm sorry you had to hide so much," Mark said.
"I should have been honest. At least I would have known where I stood. I love my folks, and by not telling them, I may be doing them an injustice." Walker looked down at the pink bandage on his thumb, already curling a little. "I’m not going to be able to hide it at work, am I?"
"Do you trust Doyle to keep his mouth shut?"
Walker took a while to answer. "If you'd asked me that during training I would have said no, definitely not."
"And now?"
"Now I'm not sure. I think he's grown up, and maybe he's realized following Collins all those months was a really bad move."
Walker wasn't sure he trusted Doyle with his private life, but he knew the man would have his back in the field and that was all that really mattered. He didn't have to be friends with him. He knew Mitch and his team were as close friends as they could be, but that was rare. Most teams did their job and went their separate ways at the end of an assignment. Walker liked Costa and they'd met up for beer and wings when their teams were playing together, but he hadn't socialized with Collins or Doyle.
"Doyle told you to call him in the event of an emergency, and he told you he knew where you were. Maybe he is getting the idea of what a real team is about."
"Were you close with yours?" Walker asked.
"Maybe not as incestuous as Mitch's, but yeah, pretty damn close. When I got injured, I realized I was completely alone. I'd lost my job, my team, my brothers, and my friends because they were all the same people. I was too bitter to stay friends with them. I swore blind I'd never do that again, which is why I moved away."
"Raines didn't," Walker pointed out. "He kept all the same friends."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but those guys can't go a day without breathing the same air. Look at them now. Four of them are back at the agency in different roles including Riley, and you know Si would be back there like a shot if he got the chance. Del is already talking about taking a training job if one becomes available."
"I thought his wife hated the agency."
"She does, but Del is miserable working for her father. And if he takes the training job he won't be away for months at a time in the field."