"Nothing," she tried to say, but I knew—
"Oh, no." I rolled out my hand, coaxing her to keep talking. "It's definitely something. Now spill it."
Her face flushed as she motioned to the phone. "It's a date, right? November twentieth?"
My stomach clenched as I nodded. But, shit, if the same thing had happened to her on the same day that it happened to me, I was going to freak.
"Is it your birthday?" she hedged. When I shook my head, she guessed, "Your baby's birthday? Your wife's."
I laughed. "No. It's no one's birthday. It's just . . . a special date."
The day I'd met her, had sex with her, fallen in love with her, and pretty much became utterly and completely obsessed with her . . . or rather, the day I'd had my glimpses and learned she existed.
"Your wedding day?" she started in with more guesses, not letting up.
Since there was no way I was going to tell her why November twentieth was special to me, I asked, "Why do you care? What's that date mean to you?"
She hesitated before meeting my gaze. "It's my birthday."
I gulped. Shit.
What were the odds I'd be shown a vision of her ten years ago on her birthday?
A strange cold prickle rose up the back of my neck. Fucking voodoo shit. This was beginning to creep me out. When I shifted away from her, her eyes widened.
"What? What's it mean to you?" she asked.
"Not telling," I said and quickly re-entered the passcode because my phone's screen had gone dead again. She huffed in irritation, but I distracted her as quickly as I could by pulling up Fighter's mug shot and spinning my phone around for her to see him.
And, yep. Just like that, her mind was jerked elsewhere. Oh, the power of an adorable kid.
"What a little cutie," she cooed. "What's her name?"
My chest swelled out with pride—my boy certainly was a little cutie—right before I scowled. "His name is Julian."
She blinked, and then pointed at the picture. "But he's wearing pink. Why do you have a pink onesie on a boy?"
"Uh . . . he's . . . a big supporter of breast cancer awareness?" I posed it as a question, hoping I didn't have to confess that all of my kid's clothes were hand-me-downs from Mrs. Rojas youngest daughter.
Eva laughed, warming my whole heart with the amazing sound. "And apparently he's not at all insecure about his masculinity," she quipped.
With a snort, I shot back, "My boy? Oh, hell no. We Ryans invented masculinity, thank you very much."
She smiled at me, her entire face lighting up. "I think I'm going to like you, Pick Ryan," she stated, making my heart pound in my chest.
No, the real, live woman in front of me wasn't quite as I'd imagined she'd be for the last ten years. But some parts of her were even better. And that glow on her face was one of them.
I had a very bad feeling I was going to end up more than liking her in return.
"Yo, Pick!" Ten appeared, thrusting a cordless microphone at me. "You're going to emcee this thing tonight, right?"
"Sure," I said, glad to focus on him before I admitted something completely embarrassing to Eva.
"Well, let's get to it, already," Ten pressed. "I've got some cash to win, fucker."
I turned back to Eva as I took control of the microphone. "I gotta go," I told her, not wanting to leave her side.
Her return smile was sad. "So I see."
I would've stayed, just a second longer. I needed more time with her. But Ten was already dragging me away.
Chapter 10
PICK
As Ten climbed onto the bar's main countertop, dragging me behind him, I sent Eva a small smile of farewell and followed him up. Once I was higher than everyone else in the place, I waved my hand to get their attention. Then I turned on the mic and called into the sound system.
"Hello, everyone! We've got a little something planned for all you sexy things out there to celebrate ladies' night this evening. Can I get a hell yeah?"
A round of screams followed, a bunch of chicks waving their drinks in the air and getting in on the fun.
I smiled and pointed at the rowdiest bunch. "Yeah, that's what I like to hear, right there." Crooking my finger at them, I motioned them closer. "So, I'm going to need all you single honeys in the house who're desperate to burn some cash on your favorite bartender to shift closer to the front, please. We're going to have us a little auction."
The women who'd been through this before screamed and scrambled toward the bar. After waiting until a good portion of the room had shoved their way to where they wanted to be to watch the main event, I explained the rules of the auction. And then I introduced the players after motioning Mason and Quinn to join Ten and me.