I shrugged, wondering why it wasn’t blatantly obvious to him like it was to me. “The trouble with Suzanne, and now with your manager and the

studio people… not to mention the things that the tabloids will print about you being with me. That surely is going to cause problems for you. I don’t

want to damage your career, Ryan!”

He laughed at me. “Oh, Honey! You are not the cause of my stress. And all the press about our relationship is doing the opposite of damaging

my career, so please stop thinking that way! Sweetheart, you are the only thing keeping me from jumping off the roof!”

I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t care about any of that. And I’ll hire my own security team if it ever comes down to it.” He shrugged. “Regardless, that’s not for you to

worry about.”

I looked at him, slightly shocked. “Despite what you say, I will worry about it. Anything that troubles you troubles me.”

He sighed heavily.

“Taryn, I think you realize by now that being involved with me comes at a hefty price. I told you before it was difficult for me to have any kind of

relationship, and all of this bullshit is why. I hope and pray that in a year or so when I’m done with this trilogy and move on to other projects that this

craziness will die down. But right now, it is what it is. Security teams, secrets, lies, hiding, insane schedule, it comes with the territory. It’s my life.”

He took my hand in his. “My crazy life is going to become your crazy life. It’s happening already. Are you willing to put up with all the craziness

and nonsense and love me anyway?”

I did not hesitate with my reply. “Yes, absolutely,” I breathed out. “What about you? Are you willing to do the same? Put up with all the nonsense

to keep loving me?”

“Absolutely! Without question!” He grinned.

Ryan’s warm hand brushed across my neck, pulling me in for a kiss.

It was almost seven o’clock when Pete called to inform me that they were parking almost two blocks away since my street was quite busy.

Ryan and I waited in the dark bar for our friends. I didn’t want to turn the lights on and give the paparazzi any reason to wake up prematurely.

Ryan looked adorable in my dad’s gray flannel shirt and a fresh white T-shirt underneath. He called his bodyguard Mike and made arrangements to

get picked up in the morning. I was elated knowing that he was definitely staying with me tonight.

I stood by the door, waiting for their knock, although I didn’t need to wait – the moment they paused at my door the cameras started to flash.

“Hurry, come in.” I waved, trying to hide as best I could behind most of the door.

It angered me that the paparazzi were taking pictures of anyone who entered my pub. A twinge of panic ebbed up my spine thinking about how

things would be tomorrow when I had to unlock the doors to let the public inside.

Pete was balancing three pizza boxes in front of him. “All right, where’s the fucking President?” he called out.

I turned the lights on and Pete nodded to Ryan, who was leaning on the bar.

“Oh, hey Ryan!” Pete boomed. “You see the President around here?”

“Only Presidents that are here are in my pocket, Pete.” Ryan shook his hand.

“Rumor has it that Brad Pitt is visiting,” Marie joked on her way in. “Oh, it’s just you, Ryan. Somebody should go out there and tell them that Brad

isn’t in the building. What a freaking disappointment.”

“Nice to see you too, Marie!” He squeezed her shoulders and pretended to choke her.

“Gary, good to see you, man!” Ryan shook Gary’s hand.

“Hey Ryan! Ready to lose big tonight?” Gary teased.

Tammy gave me a hug with one arm; she had a cake pan with a lid on it in her other hand. She gave Ryan a one-arm hug too. “I made a new

dessert I’d like everyone to try.”

Pete placed the pizzas on our big, center table. The aroma of melted mozzarella and tomato sauce filled the room and everyone was

mentioning how hungry they were. I tapped a pitcher of beer and we all took our familiar seats to eat and drink.

Ryan grabbed a slice and stood up from the table.

“Pete, can I talk to you a minute?” He motioned with his head for Pete to follow him. The two of them disappeared into the kitchen. I wondered

what that was all about.

“Taryn, there are a lot of people out there.” Marie nodded to the door. She looked over her shoulder to see where Ryan was. “How long has the

crowd been there?”

“Since yesterday. Ryan and I went to Cal and Kelly’s for dinner. His fans coated my car with love notes too.”

“How can he stand that?” Tammy asked, shuddering from the thought.

“It’s difficult. Those girls out there are all whacko! One of them grabbed his arm when we were speed-walking to my car. I was actually relieved

that we were surrounded by the photographers; it was like they created a circle around us to keep the girls out.”

“I know, I saw the pictures,” Marie whispered. “Tar, you’re on the freaking Internet! Just search for his name and the pictures they took come

right up. You looked great, by the way. I liked the gray sweater dress with your leather jacket and black boots.”

For a moment everything went dim. I felt like I could pass out from hearing the confirmation that my picture was now on the Internet, forever

associated to Ryan Christensen.

Ryan and Pete walked out of the kitchen; they were both laughing at something, although Pete looked a little worried.

I squinted at Ryan and gave him a questioning nod. He leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear.

“I gave Pete a few bucks for the plywood and I paid him for the pizzas. And I thanked him for being a great friend and for taking care of the

window and everything.”

I squeezed his leg. Ryan was truly a good man, down to the core.

After we finished eating, we started our usual game of poker.

“How’s your business doing, Tammy?” Ryan asked somewhat over-casually, tossing his cards into the center of the table.

“Good! It’s hard to keep up though, trying to make all the food in our kitchen at home. Hopefully I’ll get a few more jobs and then we might be

able to afford looking for a shop somewhere.”

“Why don’t you let her use your kitchen, Tar?” Ryan suggested. “You have that huge kitchen back there that you don’t use.”

My memory recalled conversations I had with Pete about that and the reasons why it never happened. I was also wise enough to sense I was

being set up. I launched my counter-defense.

“I’ve thought about that before, Ryan, but the kitchen as it stands isn’t fit for cooking and baking. New gas lines need to be run and all the

appliances need to be replaced. Even the copper piping needs to be removed and replaced. It’s an expensive disaster back there. That’s why I

don’t serve food in the bar.”

“Well, look into it and see how much it would cost,” Ryan stated.

I shook my head, wondering why he cared and hoping he would let it go.

“What?” he asked.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Please drop it. I can’t. I already have one huge loan I’m paying on for the renovations I did to the

poolroom, stage, and sound system. I can’t afford it.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” he dismissed.

“Figure what out?” I wondered.

He tapped me in the foot and scratched his nose.

Several rounds of poker later, I was losing big-time. My game was off tonight; I had a hard time reading everyone’s tells. Ryan smiled devilishly

every time he won more of my chips.

“A few more hands like this and you’ll have to ante with clothing,” Ryan slyly suggested, kicking me in the foot.

“I’m not drunk enough for strip poker,” I muttered.

Ryan abruptly sat up and joked, “Where’s the tequila?”

“Not so fast! I still have a few chips left!” I defended.