It seemed to sting his very heart!

Pouring another, Morrison noted, "This wine's got a robust flavor."

Forrest looked up, his gaze piercing. "And yet you handle it well?"

"As you sip, there's a sweetness," Morrison replied as he refilled his glass.

"Are we still talking about the wine?" Forrest's eyes were searching.

With a smile, Morrison countered, "Is that what you're asking about?"

Their true topic remained cloaked in ambiguity.

Exchanging smiles, they shared a moment of mutual understanding.

Raising his glass, Forrest toasted, "You're luckier than I am."

Morrison didn't argue.

They drained their glasses together once more.

Morrison was quick to pour another round.

“Won't there be consequences if you return drunk?" Forrest inquired.

"Perhaps." Morrison grinned, his tone light.

He was reluctant to overindulge.

Yet seeing Forrest's troubled state, Morrison was ready to match him drink for drink, if it would ease his mind.

Forrest, his lips quivering slightly, pressed, “Doesn't that scare you?"

“I fear nothing," Morrison declared firmly.

“Why would a woman choose to be a medical examiner, facing death daily? Doesn't fear touch her?"

Forrest had opposed Laura's decision from the start, hoping she would pursue a less daunting profession than that of a forensic expert.