Page 112 of Protecting What's Mine

“Dead bodies,” he deadpanned. “Almost got my ass stuck in that tiny guest closet.”

She laughed. She’d been doing more of that lately. It was all part of his diabolical plan to keep her here permanently.

“Well, speaking of garages. I was wondering if you had time to help me with something?” she said.

Asking for help with anything was a monumental task for Dreamy.

He wiped his hands on the rag and threw it on the workbench. “Name it, and it’s yours.”

“First, I need you to not freak out and go all Manly Man on me.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I need you to help me drop off my SUV at Shorty’s Garage for an oil change.”

“Uh-huh,” he said again. Counting backward from ten.

She was watching him closely. “You’re not happy,” she observed.

“I’m not,” he agreed evenly. “But Iamchoosing to trust your judgment.”

She beamed up at him and made him feel like a hero.

“Thank you, Chief Sexy Pants.”

“Let me get Betsy out of the garage, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“You’re drivingthat?” she asked, green eyes wide.

“Don’t talk about Betsy that way,” he said, finding his discarded sweatshirt and pulling it on over his head.

“What I meant to say is Betsy road legal?”

He patted her vintage license plate. “She sure is. I usually fill her up with kids for the Fourth of July parade. She loves the attention.”

“You’re a heck of a guy, Lincoln Reed.”

He followed her to the garage and waited while she dropped her keys in the overnight box. When she climbed in next to him, Sunshine firmly between them, he handed her a sweatshirt and cranked the heat.

“It’s not that long of a ride home,” she insisted.

“I’m taking my favorite girls for a leisurely drive. You got a problem with that, Dreamy?”

She grinned and ducked into the oversized BFD sweatshirt. “Nope. I’ve got time.”

THE NEXT DAYLinc carved out some time of his own. He wasn’t “overstepping boundaries.” He was doing his girlfriend a thoughtful favor by picking up her SUV for her. If he happened to have words with one of the mechanics at the garage, well, then so be it.

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” he told Kelly as she swung into the garage’s parking lot. It looked like it was a busy day for Shorty and his crew. Vehicles were on lifts inside open garage bays, more were stacked in the parking lot waiting for their tire rotations, oil changes, and noise checks.

“Happy to make sure you don’t get arrested,” she said, parking and unclasping her seat belt.

“You don’t have to come in with me,” he argued.

“You asked me to drive you. Not Brody,” she said simply.

It was true. Brody would have let Linc stir the pot and waited on the sidelines until punches were thrown. Then he’d jump in. Kelly Wu and her mom vibes would ensure that bloodshed would be kept to a minimum.

“I have to talk to him,” Linc insisted.