Page 6 of The Yeah Baby Series: Vol 3

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Macy

My fingersidly toyed with the hem of my sweater. I forced them down onto my lap since it was a sure sign of how nervous I was. Then again, I had reason to be uneasy considering I stuck out like a sore thumb. Or, at least, I would if anyone could see me tucked into a corner booth with Rhys sitting next to me, blocking me from everyone’s line of sight. When he’d nudged me to the side, I’d been too distracted by my scan of the elegant dining room to even realize he was doing it so he could sit next tome.

What in the hell was I doing here? The dim lighting did nothing to hide the fact that the restaurant was way nicer than the kind I was used to eating at. Not that I ate out often considering it wasn’t in my budget. Not even at a much cheaper, chain place. Then again, the more important question to ask myself was, how did I end up sitting in a booth at a place like this withRhys?

In his expertly tailored suit, with what was clearly a pricey haircut and even more expensive shoes, he looked like he could afford to eat at places like this every day of the week, three meals a day. And judging by the way the hostess greeted him by name and showed us to a corner booth without batting an eyelash over the fact that they were closing in about thirty minutes, it was entirely possible he really did eat all of his meals here. He certainly ordered like he did, without even asking me what I wanted when he ordered about half a dozen different things from the menu I hadn’t even gotten the chance tosee.

“I’m a vegetarian,” I blurted out after the waitress was out of earshot.

“What? But you said you weren’t going to eat like a rabbit!”

The shocked expression on his face made me giggle.

“Why you little—” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he realized I was messing with him. His lips turned down in a frown, but his grey eyes twinkled with humor. Swoon.

“Okay, I’m not a vegetarian,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to like what you ordered.”

“You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’tyou?”

Warmth spread throughout my chest at the implication that we’d be spending more time together in the future. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how insanely attracted to him I was or that he seemed to have Weston’s stamp of approval, but Rhys had managed to sneak past my usual defenses. “Only when you need it,” I quipped with a confidence I wasn’t feeling.

“Well this time around, I can assure you it’s unwarranted. The chef who owns this place is a client of mine. I picked each of his best dishes and figured we could share them all. I’m sure at least one of them will be to your liking. Plus, once the waitress lets him know the order is for me, he’ll send out whatever special he’s working on for tomorrow’smenu.”

It took everything I had in me not to thump my head against the table. Of course he knew the owner. He was… him. While I was… me. Except, he didn’t look at me like I was a girl he’d met while she was working at a sex toy shop. And he wasn’t treating me like it either. Although I was a virgin who was out of practice when it came to dating—had never really even been in practice before—it was hard to miss that he was trying to impress me with the fancy restaurant, the bottle of champagne that was promptly delivered to the table, and ordering for me. It was working, too. All the wooing he was doing had me interested to know more abouthim.

After several dishes had been served, I had to admit, he was right. It was all amazing. Except for the one that had a shrimp garnish. I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust, but Rhys caught my flinch, laughed, and instructed the waitress to clear it from the table.

“What exactly is it that you do with clients who own places likethis?”

I listened raptly as he told me about his work as the owner of an extremely successful investment firm. It was impressive, and his intelligence shone through while he talked about growth stocks, futures contracts, and margins. I didn’t fully understand at least half of what he explained, but I certainly enjoyed watching how animated he became while sharing his work. It was clear to me that he was happy with his career. It became equally clear how unhappy he was about what I did to earn a living when the topic came up as we were finishing ourmeal.

“How long have you worked at Dirty Players?” His voice roughened at the end of his question, as though he forced the name of my employer past hislips.

“A little more than ayear.”

“That long?” he grunted, his grey eyes flashing atme.

“Yup.” I wasn’t about to offer more information, not when he was glowering atme.

“Why—”

Whatever he was going to ask was more than likely to cause an argument between us, so it was probably for the best that he was interrupted.

“Rhys, it’s good to seeyou.”

I glanced over Rhys’s shoulder and found an attractive, and familiar, man standing in front of our table. He was about the same height as Rhys, long and lean, with sandy brown hair and sparkling green eyes… and those green orbs were aimed straight atme.

“And you brought me a gorgeous guest.”

Rhys slid his arm over my shoulders, tugging me close to his side as he glared at his friend. “I didn’t bring you shit, Owen.”

“Ahhh,” the famous chef, who I’d seen on television, sighed as he flashed me a sexy grin. “It’s like that, is it? She must be something really special to get you to give up your monk-likeways.”

“Yes, she’s special.” I felt his lips brush against the top of my head when he paused. “And she’s also none of your damn business.”

“Aww, don’t be that way, Rhys. I just want to offer her something irresistibly decadent.”

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