She blinked at him several times. “But Ned begins with an N.”
A smile broke out at that ridiculous comment.
She turned back to the armor and tucked a strand of dark, wavy hair behind her ear before hovering her fingers over the armor. “I’m wondering if it’s authentic. The filigree work is fantastic, but steel wouldn’t patina like this, which makes me think it’s a replica. It’s a decent imitation, based on mid-to late-sixteenth century probably. It would have been for ceremonial use instead of functional. They wouldn’t have spent that kind of money on a suit of armor that was going to get hacked on by swords and shot up with arrow bolts.”
She reminded him of Angie when she got excited about something. She was adorable. “Are you a historian?”
“Art history major.” She looked down and stepped back from the armor. “Sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes.”
“Don’t apologize for being passionate about something.”
Her smile lit up her face, and it sent a jolt of desire through him as the image of her smiling up at him, her thick dark hair spread around her face, flashed through his mind.
“What are you passionate about?” she asked.
He froze. No one had ever asked him that before. Not in a nonsexual kind of way, and he didn’t think that’s what she was asking about.
He almost said protecting kids, but that would lead to awkward questions about why they needed protection, and he didn’t want to scare her off. His mind was oddly calm for the first time in twenty-four hours. He wanted to keep talking to this woman who gave him a small history lesson on the club mascot in the middle of a party, especially if it distracted him.
“Choppers.”
“Motorcycles or helicopters?” she asked.
“Custom motorcycles. I build them.” He wasn’t sure why he told her that instead of security specialist. They’d always been a hobby, something he did because he loved building with his hands. “A long time ago, I wanted to be the next East Coast Choppers and have my own big-name shop.”
“Why don’t you?”
He crossed his arms and shrugged. “Life got in the way.”
“Hate it when it does that.” She leaned forward, close to his upper arm. “Who drew that?”
He looked at the tattoo she was pointing at. “Same guy who tattooed it.”
“Wow. He’s a really good artist.”
An irrational spark of jealousy ignited in his chest.
She leaned back and looked him down and back up. She rocked back on her heels a little when she raised her head from her examination. “You are sexy.”
He couldn’t have stopped his grin if someone had offered him money. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re agreeing with something I said.”
“What did you say?” She shook her head. “Wait. Not you. Julia said you were sexy.”
Tink frowned. “You know Julia?” She didn’t seem like the kind of woman Julia would be friends with.
“Nope. Just met her. Dani yelled at her.”
That didn’t surprise him at all. Dani did not like Julia. “You know Dani?”
“Just met her too. I like her better than Julia, though.”
Tink shook his head. Who was this woman? “What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
