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"Sick," Ten hissed at her. "Leave him the fuck alone."
"Damn." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I was going to have you do an auction night since we hadn't done one in a while, but if there's only going to be four of you working—"
"We can handle it," I was quick to speak up. Auction nights brought in a shit ton of cash, and I could always do with more cash, especially since I was going to be spending more on a babysitter now.
"Well, then . . . handle it." Jessie waved a hand in my direction, which basically told me I was in charge. Then she turned away and marched toward the exit, leaving us to 'handle it' by ourselves.
"What's auction night?" Mason was the first to ask after she was gone.
"Oh, baby, are you in for a treat." Ten rubbed his hands together gleefully. "The customers have a little bidding war—only on a ladies' night, mind you—for some lucky woman willing to pay the most to have the bartender of her choice personally cater to her for the rest of the evening."
"The best part is the guy who's chosen gets fifty percent of the take," I told him.
Mason's eyebrows furrowed and he glanced over at Quinn, whose eyes had grown to twice their normal size.
"We're going to auction off . . . ourselves?" Quinn sounded scandalized.
"Hey, it's fun." Ten knocked him in the shoulder, roughing him up a little. "All you have to do is flirt and talk to the broad until closing and make sure her drink never runs out. All the chicks dig it."
"And you get fifty percent of the haul," I repeated.
But neither Quinn nor Mason seemed all that enthused by the idea.
"Dude." Ten pointed at my back and shook his head. "You might want to clean that shit up. No woman's going to choose you with baby crap on your back." Then he shook his head and muttered something about me being a dad before he loped off to finish rearranging the tables.
But, shit, he was right. I pulled my phone from my pocket, hoping Tristy would be willing to run a new shirt down to me. No way did I have enough time to go home, change, and hurry back before we opened. Except she must've already taken advantage of her freedom for the night. She didn't answer the apartment phone, and I'd never gotten her a cell phone because I just couldn't afford one for her too.
"Dammit." I disconnected. After shoving my phone back into my pocket, I grabbed the back collar of my shirt and ripped it off over my head so I could see just how bad off I was.
"I'm going to try to rinse this off," I told whoever was willing to listen. But when I looked up, it was Mason I caught staring.
"Whoa," he said, gaping at my bare chest. "You have the words Tinker Bell and Skylar tattooed over your heart."
I slapped my hand over the tat, protective of it. I think I would've rather listened to him bash my nipple ring than mention that specific tattoo.
"Yeah," I said, furrowing my brow and ready to kick ass if he made one disparaging remark about the family I'd always craved but was starting to realize I'd never get. "What about it?"
"Nothing." He shook his head but kept staring at the area I continued to conceal. Lifting his gaze, he finally added, "It's just . . . strangely ironic. I mean . . . " He squinted slightly. "Isn't Tinker Bell what you kept calling Eva the other week when she was here with Reese?"
Fuck.
My mouth went bone dry as I stared back at Mason. But how the hell had he remembered that? He should've been preoccupied with that cougar claiming she was carrying his kid.
"E . . . Eva?" I croaked, frowning as if I had no idea who he was talking about. "She was the pregnant blonde, right? Your . . . your girl's cousin or something like that."
Damn it, now I was being overly stupid. He was going to know I was faking it. And yep, he narrowed his eyes, probably wondering what the hell was up with me.
I shrugged. "She had Tinker Bell on her shirt. What else was I supposed to call her?"
"Nothing, I guess. I don't know." Mason waved a hand. "Ignore me. It was just a shock to see that name on top of Skylar, that's all."
I crinkled my brow, totally confused. "Wait. Why? Who's Skylar?"
Mason let out a breath before saying, "No one. I mean, not yet. That's what Eva's going to name her daughter when she's born."
"What?" I plopped onto a stool and gaped slack-jawed at him. But, no. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. My vision went momentarily black. I thought I was going to pass out, but all too soon, I blinked Mason back into focus.
"Hey, are you okay?"
