She was happy. In general, but also to see me.
If there was something going on between the two of them, happiness would probably be the last emotion she’d feel about me. But there were no stolen glances between her and the man at my side. No forced casualness or stilted unease. No side-eye to Rhys’s close positioning to me.
That last part could’ve just been because she knew the relationship was completely fabricated, but it was still telling that there was no involuntary blip of negativity from her.
Or so I thought.
Because at my question, she shook her head. “Nope.”
Damn.
Before that culinary disappointment could sink in, she leaned closer to stage whisper, “I already saved you a whole stash.”
“Unfair,” Rhys said, even as he ate half his own cookie in one giant bite.
“Maybe if you’re nice, she’ll share.”
“Oh good, definitely all for me then,” I said, making Piper, Harlow, and the unknown woman laugh.
Rhys wasn’t as amused. “I’m nice.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
Before he could respond, a swinging door pushed open as a vaguely familiar man came from the back. He lifted his chin at Rhys before looking at me with dark, smoldering eyes.
I didn’t even know that eyes could smolder outside of romance books and cartoon princes, yet there we were.
If that wasn’t enough, he rumbled, “Hey, mama. Heard what happened. You good?”
Mama.
My God, that’s hot.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said to the man whose name I couldn’t remember. Like Harlow, I’d met him briefly when I’d stopped into the old location to check on Piper.
A lot had changed with their surroundings, but her support system seemed just as strong.
Stronger even.
“Knock it off, Xavier,” Rhys said as he used the hand he still had on my back to nudge me around the counter and into the kitchen without an invitation or explanation.
Just in time for us to interrupt some grab-ass.
Literally.
A big, blond man used his big, tattooed hand to palm a not-big butt cheek. At our appearance, he stood upright at our approach and smiled without a hint of shame. His dimples were good, though not as good as Rhys’s.
Observationally speaking, of course.
I already assumed the man was one of the Court of Mayhem members even before he rounded the woman to give an unobstructed view of the leather vest that matched the ones I’d seen at Rye. His smile stayed in place as he shook Rhys’s hand before they did one of those dude hugs with the shoulder thumps.
“Haven’t seen you around lately,” Rhys said to him.
And I can guess why…
“Could say the same about you,” the man shot back. “When’s the last time you were at the clubhouse?”
“Too long.”
