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My jaw slackens. “Are you telling me you would’ve stayed faithful if you had known?”

“Obviously, because our relationship would’ve been full of honesty and trust.”

“Yeah, like a trustfund.”

Rhys snorts beside me.

Jeffrey bristles, but doesn’t give up. “My feelings for you are genuine. We deserve another shot at love. I still think about you all the time.”

“Were they genuine when you had a romantic dinner with another woman? Were you thinking about me when you were tonguing another woman’s tonsils?”

“That was a mistake. I already said that. And look”—he indicates Rhys—“you slept with your boss, so we’re totally even.”

“Except I didn’t sleep with Rhys until after we broke up.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jeffrey’s tone is unusually firm.

“Why? Because sleeping around is something every man does with every woman he runs into?” I shake my head. “Keep this up and I’m getting a restraining order.”

“Restraining order? All I’m doing is asking for a chance at redemption. And love.”

Jeffrey should’ve been a writer. He would’ve made a name for himself scripting B-movies. “You might be better off begging Trevor to adopt you. Maybeyoucan be the heir he desperately wants. He prefers one with a penis, in case you didn’t know, and the needle between your legsmightqualify.” I drop my eyes to his crotch for a second before shooting him an icy smile.

Rhys chuckles. Jeffrey turns bright red, then takes a big step forward with a glare.

I cock an eyebrow, refusing to cower. Besides, Rhys has my back. “You’re invading my personal space.”

“I won’t let you insult me. Or throw away our chance at happiness. You’ve got to learn to respect your man!”

“Didn’t you hear her?” Rhys’s tone is deadly. “Get lost, weasel.”

Jeffrey turns to Rhys, his teeth bared in frustration. “Stay the fuck away, you asshole! All you got is money anyway. She wouldn’t look at you twice if you were poor.” He jabs his finger against Rhys’s chest, punctuating each statement.

A savage gleam flashes in Rhys’s eyes as he grabs the finger and twists. Then, faster than lightning, his big fist strikes Jeffrey’s face.

Jeffrey drops to his knees with an anguished whine, all the fight draining away. Blood gushes from his nose. Guess he’s never been hit that hard.

I’d almost feel bad if he hadn’t been such a jerk…or shown signs that he’d turn into a stalker.

Rhys rolls his shoulders and inhales mightily. “Mmm. Been wanting to do that forso long.”

“Does it feel as good as you imagined?” I ask.

“Better.”

Still kneeling, Jeffrey garbles something about “bitch” and “asshole.”

I get on my toes and kiss Rhys on the cheek, workplace lobby be damned. “You really are the best.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Max

The second Rhys and I walk into Bovine Bistro, the delicious scent of sizzling beef with roasted garlic, herbs and caramelized onions hits us. My mouth starts to water and my stomach grumbles. Hopefully Rhys doesn’t hear it over the music.

A hostess in a white uniform with a black apron around her waist greets us. “Rhys Kingswood, party for two,” I say.

She checks her tablet and smiles. “This way.”