“I can’t thank you enough,” her mom, Becky, said. “I don’t know where we’d be without your help these last few months.”
Tinker ran a hand over his short beard. “It’s all part of what VACA does.”
“Let me thank you with dinner. You can come over tonight.” Becky looked at him with stars in her eyes.
He knew it was more than the hero worship her daughter had. Becky had been dropping hints that she’d welcome more than the occasional drive-by he did as part of VACA—Veterans Against Child Abuse. She was sweet, but he knew her type—a woman who defined herself by her man. There was nothing wrong with it as long as the man valued her.
“It’s against VACA rules,” he said gently.
She knew that. And even if it wasn’t against the rules, he wouldn’t get involved with a woman in such a raw and emotional state. Some men might take advantage, but he did not. Plus, she had SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP written all over her. He didn’t do serious, and he didn’t do single moms—too big of a chance the kid would get attached. He was not fit to be a substitute father figure, and he wouldn’t let a kid get emotionally involved.
“Are we ever going to see you again?” Melanie’s bottom lip trembled.
“Of course. The whole club’s taking you to school on Monday.”
Her mouth opened in awe and her eyes sparkled. “Really?”
“Yeah. Your mom didn’t tell you?” He shifted his gaze to Becky.
She looked down. “I didn’t want to get her hopes up.”
Tinker pressed his lips together, then gave his attention back to her daughter. “We’ll be at your house at 7:45 to pick you up. I got to get back to work. Can I get a hug before I go?”
Melanie reached for his neck, and he hugged her close. She kissed his cheek and said, “Thanks for making me brave.”
He swallowed hard. Twice. “Thanks for being brave.”
The wrench slipped and he scraped his knuckles against the engine block. “Shit!”
Tinker dropped the wrench and shook his hand.
“You better not get any blood on Graham’s floor.”
He looked to his right as Paige, one of his bosses, approached from across the garage. In her four-inch heels and tight, knee-length skirt, she didn’t look like she would be the chief operations officer for a security company that sometimes ran tactical operations in non-permissible environments.
But Paige was a chameleon. She was as comfortable running face-first down a wall or staring down the sights of an M4 as she was schmoozing new clients.
She was an attractive woman. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d thought about suggesting a hot and dirty fling since she’d held a similar viewpoint on relationships. But even if she didn’t sign his paychecks, he didn’t shit where he ate.
And she’d recently settled into domestic bliss with her boyfriend. Come to think of it, he’d lost a few of his teammates to long-term relationships. Nash had fallen for Addison, who sometimes joined them for training and operations. Shane was ass-deep in the Guatemalan jungle protecting some pyramid his woman found. Fuck. Tinker hoped that shit wasn’t catching.
“How’d it go today?”
He checked out her arm as she rested both on the frame of the truck he was working on, no indication her wound bothered her. She’d been shot a few months ago. It had been his fault. He’d waited for the shooter to spill his guts instead of taking the guy out as soon as he could.
“She did good. Prosecutor’s going for max time with no chance of parole.”
She nodded. “How are you?”
He glanced at her sideways before twisting the cap off the wiper fluid reservoir. He knew it was full—he’d filled it three days ago—but busy hands and all that shit.
“Do we have any jobs coming up?”
“Feeling the need to shoot something?”
“Something like that.” He screwed the cap back on.
“Dani’s here. I’m sure she’d be happy to get in the ring with you.”
