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“Sorry, man.”
Kain waved me off with a grunt. “Women make a man crazy. Especially when it’s new and lusty.” He arched a brow. “I’m assuming.”
“None of your goddamn business.”
He settled back and spread his arms across the back of the couch. “That’s a yes. I know how it goes.”
I gritted my teeth against asking what I wanted to know. But did I really want to know? Picturing her wrapped around Kain was enough to make my palms itch again.
His smile slowly slid away. “Look, I appreciate that you don’t make a big deal about my life outside the taproom.”
“Ronan would’ve told me if you were an ex-con or something. Not that it would make a difference to me. Long as you did your time.”
“Wow, right to prison level. My life isn’t that exciting.”
“I mean, that’s the worst I could come up with for you not wanting to talk about shit. You don’t seem to be the military type.”
Kain snorted. “Definitely not. My father passed away last year, and it fucked me up a little.”
My hands relaxed in my lap. “Jesus. I’m sorry, man.”
Of all the things I was expecting it to be about, that hadn’t topped even the secondary list. But it made sense why Ronan had been so adamant when he asked for some leeway with Kain’s background check. Not that it would show on a check.
“Who are you?”
Kain drummed his fingers on the leather arm and stared holes in the coffee table.
“Look, if it’s too much to talk about, I’m not going to give you grief about it. You come to work, you do a damn good job, and you make the taproom a ton of money. And I’d like to think we’ve become friends.”
“Fuck.”
“Or not.”
“No, man, that’s not it.” He sat forward and gripped his hands between his knees. “Now it’s a thing, and it’s gonna sound ridiculous. But once people know about me, shit gets weird.”
“You do know I have famous people in my family tree these days. Weird is kinda a staple here.”
He dropped his chin and laughed. “Actually, that’s a very good point.”
“If you don’t want to dig into your whatever, it’s cool. Just tell me one thing.”
He met my gaze with an arched brow.
“How do you know Helena?”
“That’s where it gets sticky.”
Howfucking sticky? Again, the images of her Velcro-ed to Kain’s side made my skin heat and my brain redline. And I didn’t fucking get why. I’d never been possessive about a woman in my life.
None had gotten into my head—or under my skin—in just one day. It didn’t make any goddamn sense.
She was making me crazy.
I stood up. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”
“I’m fucking rich, okay? I know Helena from working on a charity deal.” He collapsed back against the couch cushions.
I sat back down. “Not what I was expecting.”
