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Gary bit his lip. “Maybe… twenty?”
“Twenty? You’re joking. Have theytastedyour food?”
Gary’s cheeks went adorably pink. “Yes, but there are other factors people consider when booking a caterer. One of them is reviews from past clients, and I don’t have any.” His expression darkened. “At least none that I’d trust to talk to any humans.”
Finn’s brows drew together. “Humans?”
“I mean, you know,people.” He grabbed Finn’s hands, his grip almost too tight in his obvious excitement. “But this job? I didn’t even have to submit a bid.Theycame tome, through a referral from Peyton, and they’re paying me more than I’d have dared ask.” His gaze drifted up, his smile dreamy. “My first wedding cake.”
“That’s amazing.” Finn dropped a kiss on Gary’s forehead. “Congratulations.”
Gary peeked up at Finn from under his lashes. “That’s not all. They’ll need a server to assist me. And I was wondering… Could I hire you?”
Finn’s breath hitched.A job.A paycheck.A chance I could survive without begging Tanner for money.The weight on his shoulders lessened for an instant before it slammed back down, heavier than before. He slid his hands free from Gary’s grasp.
“Is this some kind of pity hire?”
“Pity? Seriously?” Gary narrowed his eyes, leaning forward to point at Finn’s nose. “Pity is thelastthing on my mind when I think about you, especially when we just mauled each other in front of Cerber— and Ozzie. Butneedis another thing. I need someone to help me.”
He lifted his palms between them. An invitation. Finn sighed—no pride anymore, remember?—and took the offer, fitting his hands over Gary’s.
“Okay, I’m listening. Tell me about it.”
“Melina and Peyton will have to run the bakery while I’m away, and probably while I’m trying to get the cake recipe right, so they won’t have the bandwidth to do much more. You need a job. The money is coming from the client,specificallyfor a server. It’s a win-win, Finn.” Gary bounced a little on Finn’s thighs—distracting… gah!—and pumped a fist, grinning up at the sky. “Take that, Homer! I’m a poet too!”
Finn had to laugh at Gary’s clear joy. Besides, if he were honest with himself, that knee-jerk reaction, that inclination to refuse, was rooted in a life that was no longer his. As his father’s son, privileged within the pack, he’d have considered this kind of work beneath him.
No, scratch that. Hisfatherwould have considered the work beneathhis son.
If Finn didn’t want to be his father’s son anymore—and he most definitely did not—he needed to leave those attitudes and values in the past.
Don’t live for him anymore. Live for myself.
And maybe—if he were very lucky—he could livewithsomeone else, couldsharea life with someone like Gary, whose light could brighten even Finn’s shadowed soul.
“All right. I’ll do it, but—”
“Yay!” Gary flung himself at Finn, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. And I do. But don’t I need some kind of license to do this?”
Gary half-shrugged and stood, holding out a hand to draw Finn to his feet too. “You’ll need a food-handler’s license, but you have thirty days to take the exam. If you like the work, maybe…” He bit his lip again. “Do you think you might consider working with me more? If this takes off the way the client thinks, I’ll have enough work that I’ll need more help, both in the bakery and in the catering side hustle. We can use this as a test case. To see how well we work together and whether it’s something you’d like to pursue.” Another coy look from under his lashes. “While we pursueotherthings, too. I have a lot of…recipesI’d like for us to test.”
“I’d like that.” He smiled down at Gary, feeling lighter than any time in the last year or more. “When do we start?”
Gary’s flirtatious expression vanished, replaced with obvious whites-around-the-eyes panic. “Oh, gods. The ceremony’s onSaturday.” He clutched the front of Finn’s shirt. “I only havetwo days—no, a day and a half because it’s got to be noon, right? A day and a half to figure out how to make a wedding cake.”
“You’ve never done one before?”
Gary shook his head. “There’s never been a call for anything over three layers at the bakery. This one—gods, Finn. Eight tiers!”
“In that case, we’d better get to work.” He laid his hands over Gary’s, holding them against his chest. “I may not have bakery experience, but I can be your manual labor. I’ll do the grunt work while you make your magic.” He moved their joined hands to his stomach. “And I’m more than happy to test any of your recipes.” He peered down into Gary’s face, smiling crookedly. “The ones involving cake or the ones that involve you and me.”
Gary beamed at him. “You’re the best.”
“Hold that thought until I’ve actually done anything.”
“Oh, you’ve already donesomething.” Gary lifted onto his toes and kissed Finn softly. Then, his expression turning businesslike, he freed his hands and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “I need to do some research,” he said, typing furiously. “And I’ll definitely need to shop for ingredients before we head back to the bakery.”
