Beckett smirked. “Aren’t I already?”
“Very much,” he murmured, puckering his lips.
Beckett’s cheeks turned pink and Rhys cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Thank you, Rhys.” Beckett’s voice was low, but enough to stop him from closing the door.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
He answered back with a jerky nod and closed the door. He walked back down the hallway, stepped into the elevator and rode it down to the ground floor. Rhys scarcely breathed until he was on the sidewalk, and even then just barely. Only once he was back in the familiarity of the limo did he relax, popping open the top button of his shirt and slouching against the seat.
Rhys’s mind raced a mile a minute, and he didn’t even realize he’d been tracing his finger over his lips with his eyes closed, recalling the tenderness of Beckett’s goodbye kiss. He had a boyfriend now. Hewasa boyfriend. But it was more than that, and worse than that, all at the same time.
Four in the evening on a Sunday, and Rhys pulled his phone out of his pocket to text his brother, but deleted it before he hit send. He already knew the answer to the question and he didn’t want to hear it in Sebastian’s smug tone anyway. He called Jeremiah instead, who sounded like he’d been expecting the call.
“Long time to talk, Rhys,” Jeremiah greeted. “Everything okay? We’re a bit outside of business hours.”
“For as much money as you make off my family, every hour is a business hour.”
Jeremiah laughed. “Fair enough. What can I do for you?”
Rhys stared out the window, watching the city whip past. There was still so much of Myers Bluff he’d yet to see, and if he truly meant to stay, there were a lot of things he still had to do. He had to prove to his brother he was a good man, he had to find the courage to properly and finally apologize to Callahan…and to offer an explanation if he wanted one, but not force it otherwise. He needed to find ways to spoil Beckett without making him run away. He needed a place to live, and when all was said and done, he would probably need a job.
If he wanted to work, because if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to.
“I wanted to talk to you about one of the accounts that we opened. Back when Sebastian was in college.”
“The one you said you didn’t want your father to know about,” Jeremiah said. “The one separate of all the family and business trusts.”
“Yeah.” Rhys scrubbed a hand down his face. “That’s the one.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
BECKETT IS MORE
In his dreams, Beckett was always more. He’d woken up Wednesday morning, fresh off a dream where he owned a restaurant. It wasn’t a big place, nothing like the three-star spot Rhys had taken him to over the weekend, but it wasn’t a fast food joint either. It was exactly what he’d always wanted, the kind of place he’d always envisioned for himself. But he’d woken up alone, sad, and hungry.
He stretched his legs, kicking down the sheets and rolling onto his back. He didn’t have to work, which was annoying, but far from the worst thing that had happened to him. He had some leftover baking supplies from the day he’d baked the cake for Audra, so he figured he would fiddle around with some cupcakes or muffins to keep himself busy.
Beckett had spoken to Rhys every day since their weekend getaway, but he hadn’t seen him yet. It was probably for the better, as it gave them both time to roll the title of boyfriend around for a while before coming together again. Beckett didn’t even know what having a boyfriend would look like to him. Would it be hand holding and PDA? Rhys didn’t strike him as the type to be overly affectionate, which made his knuckle-dusting kisses mean that much more. And he didn’t necessarily want to have sleepovers all the time because Rhys’s place was pretty cold and emotionless, and he really didn’t think Rhys would enjoy his lumpy mattress. Whatever happened, he suspected they would figure it out somehow.
With a yawn, he climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen, starting on some coffee before pulling the baking supplies out of the cabinet. He decided on plain white mini cupcakes, mostly because he didn’t have cocoa and he didn’t have zucchini to make bread. Also, as an adult, it was perfectly acceptable for him to have cupcakes for breakfast if that was what he wanted to do.
He’d just slid the tray into the oven when his phone vibrated across the counter. His first thought was Heather, trying to get him to do her a favor again at the last minute. She’d scheduled him to work the upcoming weekend, though, so he didn’t think it was. The weekend shift would be great for his bank account, but detrimental to his ability to see Rhys again, even though he also knew Rhys would sit at a table and eat his way through the menu for eight hours if that was his only chance to see Beckett. And something about that just felt perfect.
The message ended up being from Rhys.
Rhys: Morning
Me: Morning you.
Rhys: Are you working today?
Me: No. Home.
Rhys: Plans?
