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Garrett pins me with the full intensity of his smolder. “Aww, come on now. Don’t give our fierce attraction the cold shoulder. We’re way too hot for that. I’m willing to bet there’s a fire burning just for me in your—”
Joy slices through the space separating us from him. “Grace is off limits.”
“Telling me she’s forbidden fruit isn’t your wisest move.” His words are for her, yet he doesn’t remove his stare from me. “But don’t fret, sissy. I’m aware that I don’t meet her standards.”
I grumble under my breath about his wounded pride. “You don’t have to make me sound hard to please.”
His fingers lift, almost close enough to touch, before he drops his hand. “I’d never mistake you as such. If you give me the chance, I’ll prove just how easily I can please you. Over and over and—”
“Now that you mention it,” Joy cuts in. “You might be of assistance after all.”
His attention shifts to her after a delayed pause. “Oh?”
“Reliable sources report that our mutual friend is in the market for a baby daddy.” She hikes her thumb in my direction as if there’s another sap in our vicinity who’s desperate to settle down.
I hold up a hand to ward off any confusion. “No, that’s actually not—”
But Joy doesn’t take my correction into consideration. “Would you care to donate sperm purely for reproduction purposes? I’m sure your swimmers are adequate. Probably.” She suddenly folds in half and pretends to vomit. “Yuck. Why am I talking about my brother’s semen?”
“Beats me,” I muse. I’m more concerned about the crooked spin this entire conversation has taken.
“Freaking ewwwww,” she spits.
Garrett appears unfazed by her theatrics. “If you’re done being a drama queen, I’d like to hold my niece.”
“She’s sleeping.” Joy points to where her daughter is snoozing in the stroller.
“I make a decent pillow.” He mimics clutching a priceless bundle against his chest.
A telltale clench signals that my ovaries are preparing for the impending onslaught. My nails pierce into the wood bench to stop me from doing something I’ll regret, such as volunteering to be cradled in his arms. I’m saved by my new employer’s disgruntled huff.
“You’re sweaty.” She wrinkles her nose.
He glances down at his slick torso. “So? I don’t complain when Belle’s butt stinks.”
“Puh-lease,” his sister retorts. “She’s two months old. Her poops are still adorable.”
“Solid argument. We can smell adorable together.” Garrett beckons for his niece again.
Her expression twists into another impressive grimace. “At least put on a shirt. You’re dewy and moist.”
Try as I might, a whimper escapes to protest her demand. There’s little I can do to salvage my feigned indifference. But dammit, I’m not a quitter. “Yeah, do us all a favor and cover that pasty paleness. You’re scaring off my prospects.”
Joy snorts, which quickly morphs into undignified cackling. “Soulmates indeed. I figured you two would be entertaining, but I’m getting a hunch this will be something else entirely.”
“Um, thanks?”
She waves off my uncertain gratitude, managing to stem her laughter into choppy snickers. “No, no. Thank you. This might be the worst best match our town has ever seen. And this girl”—she points to herself with both thumbs—“scored a front-row seat for the fireworks. Let the denial begin.”
Ispy a certain bartender staring at me from the bowels of territory better left ignored. Again. It’s enough to derail my progress on polishing the wood counter. My hand pauses the endless task in order to give her the undivided attention she seems damn determined to receive.
“Is there something wrong?” There’s even a concerned edge to my tone.
“Why don’t you tell me?” Harper grins, not bothering to hide the fact that she’s been watching my every move since her shift started.
I straighten and toss the rag into the nearest sink. “Nothing new. Just doing my job.”
She props an elbow on the bar to indicate this will be a lengthy conversation. “You seem distracted.”
