Page 12 of The Bartender's Baby

I waved off the concern. “And if it did, I’d be fine.”

When she didn’t respond, I sighed. “So, that’s it? His height, eyes, and his money all made you go,Hm, I think I’d like his sperm.”

She pursed her lips and clucked her tongue. Never a good sign. “Fuck you. Stop acting as if I would ever—” She stopped herself and blinked a few times, and shit.

“I’m sorry.” I bent down to eye level. “I’m sorry. It’s not my intention to make you feel bad about the situation. I’m sure Holden is perfectly nice.”

“Harrison.”

“Whatever.”

I handed her a tissue, which she dabbed at the corners of her eyes, smudging the bit of makeup she wore. Her normally golden tanned skin was sallower, and I wouldn’t bring it up now, but I planned on having groceries delivered to her house. Because this not-eating routine was going to stopnow.

“Why haven’t you told him yet?”

She hunched over, her knees pressed tight together, fingers worrying the tissue. “I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, you are,” I said because she was cool under pressure, always level-headed and even-keeled. No, she wasn’t the type to laugh with strangers or make friends easily, but she was smart. And a planner. And so damn driven, there was no way she’d be avoiding this subject if not for a good reason.

Whatever that reason was, it killed me. Because it’d been visibly killingher.

She shook her head with a sniffle, and I lowered to my knees in front of her, placing my hands on either side of her legs. Shedidn’t push me away, so I chanced a caress of her kneecaps with my fingertips and told her the truth. Or at least, some of it.

“I’m worried about you. If you want to have this baby, I’ll back you one hundred percent. A thousand percent. But I need to know the truth from you.”

Yeah, I grasped the irony.

But I couldn’t tell hermyactual truthnow.

First, because she’d laugh in my face, and my ego couldn’t handle that. And, secondly, I doubted she’d ever believe me.

I waited her out instead.

“I’m scared,” she whispered eventually, and I took the tissue from her hands to wipe away the twin tears on her cheeks while attempting to rein in my temper. I was usually a pretty chill dude, but fuck with one of my people? My fuse wasn’t just short; it was nonexistent.

I ground my molars. “Ofhim? Are you scared of him?”

“No. I’m scared of what could happen.” She pulled the elastic band out of her hair, letting down the shoulder-length locks, combing her hands through it a few times, like she needed something to do now that I’d taken the tissue from her.

I wiped it under her nose, and she huffed a watery laugh with a soft apology.

I didn’t like this. Tabitha didn’t apologize for much, so if she felt the need to, this wasbad.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

She took a few deep breaths, and after I tucked her hair behind her ears, I reached for my almost empty water bottle on the desk. “Drink this.”

She finished it off and then sat back in the chair, more clear-eyed, even as her nose remained pink at the tip. “Do you remember when you hired me?”

“Yes. Kinda. Why?”

“Do you remember what exactly happened?”

I furrowed my brow, not understanding what this had to do with anything, but I relayed what I recalled. “You were standing on the sidewalk when I walked by, and you asked if I worked here. I said I owned the place, and you asked me to hire you.”

A ghost of a smile crept across her lips. “You said you didn’t hire high schoolers.”

“Did I say that?” I pulled a face, and her shadow of a smile became a full-on grin.

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