Page 111 of Protecting What's Mine
“Imma just wait outside,” the deputy decided. “Come on, Sunny. You can hang out with me and sniff the flowers.”
Tahir and Sunshine stepped outside and closed the front door behind them.
“I know you want to pretend that it’s just you. That you’re in this alone. That whatever we’re exploring together doesn’t matter. But we both know that’s not reality. You will not be careless. And you won’t take stupid risks,” he said, his voice low.
Mack took a step forward so they were toe-to-toe. “Fine,” she growled. “Andyouwill not assume that I’m being careless or taking stupid risks. You will trust me to take care of my own damn self.”
“Fine. And you’ll allow me to back you up if you ever need it.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Awesome.” He hugged her to him hard. “Be safe, Dreamy. I’m just getting to know you.”
Her heart began a tumble dry setting in her chest.
“He wasn’t a threat,” she insisted. “Sunshine liked him. And if anything, he’s just warning me about the rest of his family.”
Linc made a grumble noise that said he wasn’t inclined to agree.
“I patched up an abscess for him, and I’m taking my car to his garage for an oil change. And I’m not stupid, Linc.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, tilting her chin up. “Still scared me.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Thank you for not using the lights and sirens.”
“I’m sorry for possibly coming close to maybe almost overreacting.”
35
“Linc?” Mackenzie O’Neil calling his name had rapidly become one of his favorite things on this earth.
“In the garage,” he yelled over the music.
They’d taken to letting themselves in and out of each other’s houses via the back door.
“What. Is. This?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.
He patted the gleaming red fender with the rag. “This is Betsy.” Betsy was an antique engine with an open-air cab and a wooden ladder. All lovingly restored with his own two hands. He’d bought her on eBay from a private seller in New York and had road-tripped with Brody to bring her home.
The restoration had taken him five years in bits and pieces and obsessive part hunting. But there was something about bringing a piece of history back to life that appealed to him. Of honoring where he came from.
“I can’t believe you have a firetruck in your garage.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never been in my garage. You should do a better job snooping on me now that we’re having sex.”
“I’ve been through your nightstand, your medicine cabinet, and the magazines you keep in the bathroom. By the way,Popular Science, Hotshot?”
“Garages are where guys always hide the good stuff,” he said, standing and laying a playful kiss on her.
“Have you been in mine?” she asked, still eyeing Betsy.
He snorted. “Dreamy, I’m a guy. I’ve been in your garage to check for fire hazards, your basement to look for bugs, rodents, and bad guys. I even stuck my head in the attic crawlspace.”
“What were you looking for up there?”
