Page 21 of The Baby Bargain

"He hates the idea of charity." Her dark eyes fix on me. "You're the same."

"Mostly."

"That's why I… Honestly, if I can only pick one favor, I'm going to be selfish."

I try to figure out what she's getting at, but I can't. "What are you asking?"

She pushes a breath through her teeth. Sucks an inhale through her nose. Her gaze shifts to the ground—to her black shoes. To my black shoes.

She traces a line up my body.

Slowly.

Like she's savoring every inch.

Or maybe like she's analyzing me, looking for cracks, deciding what will convince me.

"There's a flood at Oddball. Forest and Holden need a place to work for a while. They're hoping they can borrow suites at Inked Hearts." Her eyes meet mine. Her voice stays even. "He's going to pretend like it's not a big deal, but it is."

"Of course." We always need more artists. We'd be lucky to have them. Even for a few months.

And, well, I could use the brownie points.

Everyone at Inked Hearts thinks I'm an asshole who doesn't participate.

They're right.

But I can't get behind the wholethe shop is my familything. I tried that at my old shop, Blacklist. I worked with my actual family. Adopted everyone else as de facto family.

It made everything with Hunter complicated.

It's one thing firing an artist for drinking on the job. It's another when he's your brother and your other brother is going to glare at you forever, both at work and at home, for it.

I learned my lesson. Business is business. Family is family. Period.

"Okay." She leans back on her heels. "Are you sure?"

"I have to ask the owners. But they'll say yes."

"Good." Her lips curl into a smile. Her brow relaxes. She wants the best for her brothers. "I… uh… Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

Her gaze shifts to the street as a Honda pulls up to the curb. The driver rolls the window down. Calls out a name.

A couple—a short guy and a tall woman—skips to the car. He opens the door for her. She giggles as he slaps her ass.

They're happy.

In love.

My lips curl into a frown instinctively.

Ariel's do the same. "How long does that last?"

"You tell me."

Her voice softens. "Is that why you don't want to help?"