"Pick," I pleaded. "Please don't make Mason participate in this auction."
He swerved toward me and looked down at my hand on him before lifting his face, his eyes glazed with shock. Then he shook his head. "I . . . It's not up to me, Tink. Our boss made the call."
"Then I want to talk to this asshole boss."
"Eva," Mason hissed, his jaw taut and eyes flaring with anger. "Shut. Up. It's fine."
"No." I hissed right back because he didn't look fine at all. He looked exactly the way I'd felt way too many times in the past. Turning back to Pick, I pleaded with my eyes. "He doesn't want to do it." I made sure my voice was hushed enough that Mason couldn't hear us.
But Pick totally didn't get it. Grinning, he shook his head. "It's all in good fun. There's no harm in it, and it's not like he'll be cheating on your cousin. Hell, I'm married. So it's completely—"
My mouth fell open. "You're married?"
Oh my God. Cut my heart out.
He froze, the guilt on his face thick and obvious. I suddenly felt like throwing up. I'd just flirted with a married man. And why had I not assumed he was married? I'd just learned he had a baby, for God's sake. Daddies did occasionally marry the mothers of their children. Damn, I was such an idiot.
And why did I feel so lost all of the sudden? As if he'd betrayed me.
With a small clearing of his throat, Pick ducked his face and mumbled, "Kind of."
"Kind of?" I arched an eyebrow. "That's like me saying I'm kind of pregnant. You either are or you aren't.'"
"Okay, then." He looked up at me, and I swore I saw grief and apology in his eyes. "Yes, I am, then. I'm . . . married."
Oh, hell. The one guy to ever really affect me, and he was married. I slapped him in the arm. "Why the hell did you let me flirt with you if you're married?"
His mouth opened, but all he said was, "Uh . . . "
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Looking away because it hurt too much to look at him, I saw Mason all upset behind the bar, and I remembered my mission. Turning back to Pick, I whispered, "Please. Don't make him auction himself off. You have no idea what that'll do to him."
Pick glanced at Mason and studied him a moment before shifting closer to me. "Does this have anything to do with that cougar who came in here the other week?"
Wow, he was good. But he'd already proven just how perceptive he was the last time I'd seen him. I gulped and tried not to reveal anything in my expression as I stared at him. But I had a bad feeling I gave the answer away, because Pick nodded as if he suddenly understood. After blowing out a quick breath, he spoke up loud enough for Mason to hear.
"Well, he certainly doesn't have to do it if he doesn't want to. It's not like Jessie will fire him for saying no."
"Really?" Brightening with that possibility, I turned to Mason.
Mason bit his lip, clearly tempted. "You're sure she wouldn't mind?"
Pick just snorted. "She can take it up with me if she does."
Mason nodded. "Then, no, I don't . . . I don't want to participate."
"I don't want to either," Quinn spoke up.
Cursing, Pick closed his eyes briefly before scowling at Quinn. "Jesus, guys. Okay, fine." He blew out a frustrated breath. "Neither of you have to do the actual serving. But this won't work with just Ten and I on the auction block. You'll have to stand up with us throughout the main event and pretend to participate. Then, if someone actually chooses either of you—"
"Which is a total non-issue," Ten called from across the room as he went to unlock the front doors, "because all the ladies are going to choose me."
Pick nodded. "Then we'll just tell the winner you have to work the bar tonight, and she needs to pick someone else."
I blew out a relieved breath. With a quick glance toward Mason, I saw that he had too. Good. There was one issue out of the way. Turning back to Pick, I realized I had one more thing to accomplish tonight.
Reaching out, I grabbed him by the front of his shirt.
Chapter 9
PICK
"We need to talk," she said.
Eva shocked the shit of out me when she grabbed the front of my shirt.
"Um, o . . . kay." I stumbled into step as she strode toward the back hall, dragging me along behind her. Not that I minded following her. I'd follow her anywhere she wanted to lead me, anywhere I could be alone with her. But the way she took charge and yanked me into action was hot.
Anticipation stole up the back of my neck. I knew what it felt like to thrust inside this woman. I knew exactly how she looked when she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip when she came, how her muscles clenched around my cock and her breasts arched against my chest. Yet I'd never had sex with her, never actually seen her naked, never even kissed her.