“Dr. Phil gets all his best stuff from me.”
“Just tell me about this charity thing so I can get to bed and think about the sex I won’t be having tonight.”
Gibson paused as if ready to push the topic, but then relented. “Fine. The charity project. It would involve music.”
“Excellent.”
“And would be helping my lovely sister-in-law out.”
“Making sexy Tessa happy. Good.”
“You’d be working with kids.”
“Aaaand . . . I’m out.”
Gibson scoffed. “You have something against kids?”
“I’m inked up, curse like a convict, and have piercings in questionable places. Parents don’t want me near their children, and kids freak me out.”
“Bullshit. How can you be freaked out? You’re one of them.”
“Sorry, Gib.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“I’m not a kid person.” He could still smell the stench of the house he’d grown up in. The overstuffed diaper pails. The spoiling government-issued baby formula. His younger siblings seeking him out when their mom had to work or when her boyfriend of the month was in a vengeful mood. That deep, terrifying feeling that lived in Pike that he was in over his head. That he’d never be enough to make it okay for them.
And he’d been one hundred percent right on that.
“This would be the older group, not the little ones.”
The dredged-up memories sent a sick feeling rolling through him, making his skin go clammy. “Can’t I just write a check or donate proceeds from a show or something?”
Gibson blew out a breath. “No, they need your expertise not your money. Just hear me out. Tessa has a great idea for a fund-raiser, but she needs someone with experience in producing music. All the money would go toward the college fund and resources for the after-school program. You know what the charity’s about. These kids don’t have a lot, man. You and I both know what that’s like.”
Fuck. “You’re really going for the jugular here, Gib.”
“Just speaking the truth.”
Yeah, that, and Gibson was a brilliant PR guy who knew how to pitch things. Monty laid his head on Pike’s chest, and Pike scratched behind Monty’s ear. “You’ve even got my dog giving me the don’t-be-a-bastard look.”
Gibson chuckled. “I sneak him treats when I’m there. He’s on my side.”
Pike ran a hand over his face. This was a bad idea. But even he wasn’t a big enough asshole to turn his back on kids who needed help. It was places like Bluebonnet that had helped his family when they needed it. He and his siblings probably never would’ve gotten a Christmas gift or decent coats if not for community programs. What kind of hypocrite would it make him if he said no? But the thought of working with children made him want to run for the damn hills. “What exactly do they want me to do?”
He could almost hear Gibson’s victory grin over the phone. “It won’t be a big deal at all.”
Pike closed his eyes. Famous last words.