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Rhys’ deep laughter filled the air. “No shit. Really?”

“Yup. The night before picture day in first grade. My mother was not pleased. My dad, however, had the picture blown up to poster size.”

“I’m gonna need to see that.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised before switching topics. “So, did you open Rye?”

“Yeah, about fifteen years ago.”

“Wow, you were young.”

I didn’t know his exact age, but guessed Rhys was somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties. He was definitely one of those lucky people that you just knew got better and better looking as they aged.

“Don’t forget wild, stupid, and reckless. I sank every last penny I had into getting this place up and running. I was sick of paying crazy money to drink shitty beer ‘cause the joint was wannabe hip. I just wanted to sit in a shitty place and drink shitty beer.”

“Sorry.” I looked around. “It’s obviously not a shitty place.”

He leaned against the wall and smiled down at me. “Yeah, fucked that up, too, huh?”

I shrugged. “Little bit.”

“So Kase said you run your own business.”

“Yeah, it’s still in the fledgling stage.”

“You like it?”

I nodded, but did it grinning. “It was a hobby that snowballed. It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it to do what I love.”

“Yeah, I get you. It’s the best fuckin’ thing in the world. Some days, swear to Christ, I don’t even wanna know what fresh hell awaits me. Always some bullshit happening, some fuckin’ paperwork to do. But doing what you love? Having the control to do whatever the fuck you want? Wouldn’t trade it.”

I’d heard all of the horror stories about starting a business so it was nice to hear something positive. “What’s your favorite thing about it?”

“Unless you makereallyfuckin’ depressing cakes, you’ll meet people on the good days. I get to meet them at the high, the low, and everything in between. The ones that come in to drink after they get the pink slip, the divorce papers, the bad news from the doctor. The ones out to celebrate, to party ‘cause life’s fuckin’ awesome. That’s what I love, meeting different people.”

I jerked my head towards the bar. “Is that how you know the Hyde guys?”

“Kinda. Jake and I go back about ten years. The rest eventually came with him. They’re a close group.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

When there was no response, I looked up at Rhys to find him watching me with assessing eyes. I had nothing to hide, but I still fought the urge to fidget. I worked hard at not letting people’s opinions matter, but no one wanted to be disliked.

I barely held in a victory dance when his dimples reappeared as he smiled at me.

“I called Jake earlier to find out about you,” Rhys admitted.

I tilted my head. “Oh?” I tried to sound indifferent. What I really wanted was a word for word transcript of the conversation.

“Kase… Well, he’s got a type, and it isn’t sweet, albeit sinful looking, bakers,” he said with a wicked smile. “I wanted to make sure Kase hadn’t hooked up with another psycho. There are a lot of users and hangers-on. You need loyal people to have your back. When Jake said you were a good chick without hesitation, well, that’s like hitting the lotto of approval.”

As much as that made me want to bust out the ultimate victory dance, I was more than a little surprised.

Mixed signals much?

“Jake doesn’t like anyone, especially women. I mean, he likes them, he just doesn’t wanna be around them unless he’s getting something, you know what I mean?” He didn’t give me a chance to think about what he meant, let alone respond, before he continued. “Anyway, when they were talking, it got me curious. Jake got your text and said he was going to take a look at a dent. When all the men jumped up to go with, I figured I’d come along and take a look for myself. Glad I did, darlin’.”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “Aren’t you sweet?”