Chapter 3

A/N: Dedicated to everyone who enjoys this story. Have a great time on wattpad and a happy New Year if we don't talk before that! ♥

*****

It's been three weeks since Rhys first visited the Milk & Cream and now I was putting in a little extra effort in getting dressed on Tuesdays and Thursdays – the two days he always came. Each time he would order the same – extra large coffee with extra cream – and each time I'd draw a wolf, doing my best not to repeat the design.

At first Tim and my other colleagues had been worried, they'd even warned the boss about our newest regular, which of course had made me afraid Rhys might get banned from the café; if that were to happen, would I ever see him again? Thankfully, I didn't get to find out. He never caused any trouble except for a bit of a perturbation with his presence and Mr. Philips deemed it unfair to kick him out based on his appearance alone. In the end, all Rhys did was sit at the bar, order a coffee and chat me up when I wasn't busy with other clients, which was often when he was here. I should probably be annoyed that he repelled my other regulars but I found it interesting to talk to him even though he could be oddly cryptic about some things.

I sighed as I gazed once again at the large mug-shaped clock above the café door. I'd been doing that a lot today; Rhys was late and I was beginning to wonder whether he'd be a no-show.

Taking a clean towel, I lazily wiped the smooth bar surface until I heard a bell ring and my head shot towards the sound. A smile bloomed on my face as I saw the familiar large figure clad in the ever-present leather jacket enter. My spirits dwindled and the grin melted away as soon as he came close enough for me to notice the dark circles under his eyes.

"Rough night?" I asked and began preparing him the usual.

"Followed by a long, long day and it is only the afternoon." The last few words were uttered through a yawn, his voice even raspier than usual. "Sorry, I'm late."

"You are? I didn't notice." I straightened my shirt while the brown liquid flowed from the machine into a mug with the café logo. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, placing his drink before him and using the flat end of a small spoon for the finishing touches of a wolf's head.

"Family stuff," he replied curtly, propping his elbow on the bar and leaning his cheek against his palm.

I nodded, knowing he wouldn't give me details. He would freely provide me with information about whatever I asked him except when it came to his family – a term I'd realized he used broadly to include his gang, not just his blood relations. Those were the occasions on which Rhys got evasive: when he talked about his family. How very Godfather-like!

Then again it was probably better that he didn't share such things; I didn't want to end up in the middle of some shady deal. Even so, I couldn't help but wonder from time to time what he and his family might be up to and of course I came up with all sorts of ideas, sometimes going as far as to imagine them as secret agents or spies. I giggled as a certain picture formed in my mind: Rhys at a fancy cocktail party, all dressed up and equipped with gadgets à la James Bond.

"What's so funny?" He asked, the coffee mug almost at his lips, but I shook my head.

"You have your secrets; I have mine," I winked.

"I don't want us to have secrets," he said gently. "And one day I'll answer the questions you have for me, but you are not ready yet."

"Ready for what?" I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows. My heart jumped as a horrifying conjecture came to mind. "Are you trying to recruit me for your gang?" I whispered at him.

His eyes bulged before he sighed and shook his head.

"I told you before, Riley: we are a family, not a gang."

I looked around for eavesdroppers; my colleagues were minding their own business, the costumers were chatting amongst themselves... No one paid attention to us, yet I leaned on the bar to get closer to him.

"Call it whatever you will but everyone in town knows you are doing something in that pub of yours." I kept my voice low as I spoke.

"Sure," he smirked. "We drink, we play cards, shoot darts..."

"You know that's not what I mean," I protested quietly.

"We live by our own rules, Riley, but we are not criminals," he said, this time serious.

"Then how come you don't allow outsiders? You must have something to hide," I persisted. If it had been anyone else from the Bullets, I wouldn't dare even hint towards such a topic; but this was Rhys and somehow with his collected and friendly demeanor, he'd earn my trust enough for me to believe he didn't want to harm me.

"I told you: we are a close-knit community," he repeated the very familiar line and took a sip of his drink.

"Something like a tribe?" I suggested and he briefly thought about that before nodding.

"I guess you could say that."

"You aren't some religious sect, are you?" I asked, frowning, but he laughed at my silly assumption.

"No, Riley, we are not a sect."

I relaxed and went to serve another costumer. I doodled an easy design of a rose and handed her the drink with a brief smile before returning to Rhys.

"You promised me last time that you'd tell me more about your family," he reminded me, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Not much to tell," I shrugged, leaning sideways on the bar. "I've never been as close to my parents as my brother was. I thought I was close to him so he was one of the first people I came out to. He called me a fag, told our parents about me, they kicked me out..." I began to enlist the events, the details too painful to elaborate on. "Grandparents didn't want me either. I have an uncle but he's a petty crook so he's more likely to ask me for money than help me out... That's it," I concluded lamely.

"And they kicked you out when you were sixteen?" His voice was cold. I gave him a nod and he posed another question: "Then you lived on the streets before Meredith took you in and when she died, you moved here?"

I repeated the affirmative gesture and he shook his head.

"I don't know how I'd survive if my family had cast me out like that," his tone softened and he spoke with such admiration that I blushed. "You are a great deal stronger than I originally thought, Riley."

"Thanks," I murmured, looking at the bar top to hide the large grin which appeared at his praise. "Do you have any plans for the weekend?" I then asked to shift the attention off me.

"I'm taking Kennedy to the movies on Friday," he replied, naming his youngest sibling – a boy of thirteen. "They are showing Rise of the Guardians... again."

I perked up.

"Really? It's one of my favorite movies ever! Jack Frost is awesome, like a cooler version of Peter Pan, and that's saying something because I love Peter Pan."

"Why don't you come with us then?" He asked, smiling at my enthusiasm.

"Like on..." 'a date', I almost shot out, but managed to catch myself before I appeared as a fool. No one brought their baby brother on a real date so 'this Friday' was what I voiced out instead.

"Yeah, tomorrow," he replied.

"I'd like that," I admitted. "I'm crazy about the movie and I can't wait to meet Ken."

"Just don't call him 'Ken'," he advised. "It reminds him of Barbie's boyfriend and he hates that."

I nodded and watched him take a large sip of the coffee, some of the cream forming a thin moustache.

"You have a bit of cream over your lip," I muttered and reached out to brush it off on impulse. The moment I touched his skin, Rhys closed his eyes and his nostrils swelled.

"Thanks," he murmured, slowly opening his eyes once I retrieved my hand. A shiver of fear and excitement ran through me at how dark they'd grown.

It was times like this that I thought he might be gay and that he came to the café because he was interested in something more than a chat. We'd talked about many things but the subject of his sexual preferences was not one of them, even when I brought up mine; he never told me which he was interested in – boys or girls, or whether it was both. What was more, he'd never – not once – flirted with me. He'd come in, he'd ask me how I was, he'd share some of his life, I'd tell him about mine and he'd walk out, leaving me a generous tip; once home, I'd wonder whether I'd imagined the gentleness in his tone and the adoration in his eyes. Perhaps he was too shy to take it further?

He had not been shy when he'd insisted on giving me a ride home, nor when he'd tracked me to my work place. Perhaps he was just a generally nice and inquisitive guy and I was seeing something more because I was starting to like him and wanted there to be more.

An easy way to stop wondering would be to just ask him; but if he said he was straight, I wouldn't even be able to hope and now, whilst I wondered, I hoped.

Besides, what were the odds of having two gay people in the same family? Alec was gay after all, or so I thought...

"Hey, Rhys, is Alec only into guys or does he go both ways?"

"No one knows what Alec is into," he replied, frowning as he usually did when he spoke about his nephew. "He uses sex to manipulate both genders and is equally careless about the feelings of either." He brought the mug to his lips but didn't take a sip, his expression contemplative. With a sigh, he put the drink back on the bar and went on: "That's what Alec does: he uses whatever it takes to get into people's heads, to make them do his bidding, and when they are no longer useful or start to bore him more than the average person – because Alec finds almost everyone boring – he'd move on to his next target; it's his favorite pastime."

"I don't like your nephew," I admitted and he smiled.

"Good; then you'll stay away from him." He lifted the beverage again, this time drinking. "I hope you like Kennedy," he added.

"I'm sure I will. From what you've told me, he's a nice kid; mischievous, but nice." I grinned. "Besides, I love children; I want to have at least five."

"At least?" He repeated, amused.

"At least," I nodded. "I want a really, really big family. And a close one too. I want us all to gather on the holidays, go hunting for Easter eggs, carve pumpkins..." I began dreaming aloud, but Rhys didn't seem to mind; on the contrary, he had leaned in closer, listening attentively. "And I want us to live in a house with a huge yard with swings and a slide in it, and everyone will have their own pet, whatever they want – dogs, cats..."

"I don't like cats," he protested as if he was a part of the fantasy and for a moment I imagined us at a park together, each holding onto a child's hand. "But I want to hear more about the dogs," his next words brought me back on track.

"Well, the children will pick their own pets, but I was thinking about a Golden Retriever; they are great dogs, absolutely amazing with children. And on Christmas, I'd dress him or her in some fancy doggy clothes and put antlers on his or hers head..."

Rhys laughed loudly at the idea, making some of the people around turn to look at him; I ignored them, too busy admiring the melodic, jolly sound which came out of his mouth.

"You never know, Riley; you might find yourself a part of a family soon."

I smiled sadly at his words and shrugged.

"I don't even have a boyfriend. And then we'd have to be assessed by child services before we could adopt." I sighed. "At least in this state we are allowed to adopt."

He became thoughtful again, silently sipping on his coffee for the next few minutes. I passed that time by running the towel over the bar again even though it was spotless. Once his coffee was all gone, he got up and paid, leaving me with a large tip as per usual.

"Soon, Riley," he said quietly. "Just a little more patience."

Was he talking about having a family? But how could he be sure of that? Was he implying something... Did I dare to hope he was?

I shook my head.

Surely Rhys didn't mean it as the two of us together; we'd known each other for only about a month. Maybe he meant me becoming a part of his other family, the not-a-gang-sort-of-a-tribe family...

"I'll see you on Friday," he added as he turned to leave. He stopped at the door to wave at me – another thing he was accustomed to – and then he was gone.

Yes, on Friday, I repeated in my head.

What would I wear?

*****

A/N: Jack Frost or Peter Pan? Which character do you enjoy more?

Do you have any ideas as to why Rhys has never flirted with Riley?

What do you think about Riley's dream of a family?

What about Rhys' remark that Riley might become a part of a family soon?

Maybe you'll get to know more about that when they meet on Friday. Speaking of which: any fashion advice for Riley? I promise to pass it on ;)

I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER AND AS ALWAYS, I'D APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT IN THE FORM OF VOTES, COMMENTS, A FOLLOW OR YOU RECOMMENDING THIS STORY TO YOUR FRIENDS.