Chapter 6 (1/2)

Chapter four

HARDIN

Jack and Coke,” I bark.

The bald bartender glares at me as he pulls an empty glass from the rack and fills it with ice. Too bad I didn’t think to invite Vance; we could have shared a father-son drink.

Fuck, this is all so fucked-up. “Double, actually,” I modify the order.

“Got it,” the big man sarcastically responds. My eyes find the old television on the wall, and I read the captions on the bottom of the screen. The commercial is for an insurance company, and the screen is covered by a giggling baby. Why they choose to put babies in every damn commercial, I will never know.

The bartender wordlessly slides my drink across the wooden bar just as the baby makes a sound that’s presumably supposed to be even more “adorable” than giggling, and I bring the glass to my lips, allowing my mind to take me far away from here.

“WHY DID YOU BRING HOME baby products?” I had asked.

She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and pulled her hair into a ponytail. I started to worry if she had an obsession with children—it sure as hell seemed like it.

“It’s not a baby product,” Tessa had said and laughed. “It just has a baby and a father printed on the package.”

“I really don’t understand the appeal there.” I lifted the box of shaving products Tessa had brought home for me, examining the chubby cheeks of a baby and wondering what the hell a baby has to do with a shaving kit.

She shrugged. “I don’t really get it either, but I’m sure putting a baby’s image on it will help with sales.”

“Maybe for women buying their boyfriend’s or husband’s shit,” I corrected her. No man in his right mind would’ve grabbed that thing off the shelf.

“No, I’m sure fathers would buy it, too.”

“Sure.” I had ripped open the box and laid the contents out in front of me, then made eye contact with her through the mirror. “A bowl?”

“Yes, it’s for the cream. You’ll get a better shave if you use the brush.”

“And how do you know that?” I raised a brow at her, hoping she didn’t know this from experience with Noah.

Her smile was wide. “I looked it up!”

“Of course you did.” My jealousy disappeared, and she playfully kicked her feet at me. “Since you seem to be an expert in the art of shaving, come help me.”

I had always just used a simple razor and cream, but since she had clearly put thought into this, I wouldn’t deny her. And, frankly, the blooming idea of her shaving my face was a major fucking turn-on. Tessa smiled and got to her feet, joining me in front of the sink. She picked up the tube of cream and filled the bowl before swirling the brush around to create a lather.