eyes shot back up, flashing with a protective kind of heat that Diego recognized, having felt it often enough over his own mom.
“Didn’t say she was. But it’s gonna take stupid to believe that pieces of metal just sorta fall off.”
“Oh.” The kid frowned at the sprocket again, then at his house. Then he gave Diego an easy smile. “Okay. Why don’t you show me how to fix it, maybe? Then I can do it myself if it falls off again.”
“Better plan,” Diego agreed, skimming a finger under the chain to dislodge it. “Here’s what you do.”
He proceeded to take the kid through the steps, then walked him through how to replace the sprocket.
“Your dad should be able to replace it, no problem,” he added, tossing out a line. “But this way you know how, too.”
The kid wasn’t biting. His eyes stayed locked on the chain for a few seconds; then he shrugged.
“It wouldn’t do any good to take it apart unless I had the new, what’d you call it?” He raised clear blue eyes.
“Sprocket.”
“Yeah.” After contemplating for another second, he shook his head. “Even if I had enough money, I’d still have to ask Mom for a ride to the store. So she’d know.”
“Moms usually do.”
“Yeah.” The kid tossed off his gloomy expression. “Still, thanks for the help, mister.”
Damn.
“Hang on. Maybe I can tweak it a little.” Telling himself it was just a way to keep the kid talking until he mentioned his father, Diego unlatched the saddlebag on his Hog and pulled out a few tools.
“You’re cool. Thanks tons. You got any kids?”
“I’m not married,” Diego answered automatically, watching the kid out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.
“Okay.” The expectant expression didn’t change. After a second, his blue eyes flashed with impatience. “So? You got any kids?”
Laughing under his breath, Diego shook his head.
“So you live here alone?” The boy glanced toward the house, a small line creasing his freckled brow.
“For now.” Diego tilted his head toward the kid’s house. “You live there alone?”
“’Course not,” the boy said with a laugh, shaking his head at what was obviously a stupid question. “It’s me and my mom living there.”
“Just the two of you, hmm?” Was it wrong to lead a kid on? Diego knew his motives were solid. Still, the boy was so open and, well, sweet, that Diego had to twitch his shoulders to shake off the sudden discomfort.
“Just us now. Used to be Andi and Matt, but we were here a lot cuz mom was decorating things. Then Matt moved out cuz he had issues and it was us and Andi. Then Andi went to live the high life, so it’s me and Mom.”
Andy and Matt? Two guys? Diego blinked and rocked back on his heels. He wasn’t sure if he was more impressed that the kid had blurted that all on a single breath or at the insight into Ramsey’s ex’s sexual habits. Remembering the photo of the blonde on the beach, he pursed his lips.
“’Course Andi’s still here all the time. Except for trips to Greece for obligation visits. My friend Jeremy is going on a trip, too. He’s going to camp. Have you ever gone to camp, mister?”
Camping, was it? After indulging the image of an oil-coated threesome in his imagination for another second, Diego gave the kid a nod.
“Sure. I’ve camped.” Sleeping in a tent in the Afghan desert counted, right? “So you’re going camping?” With who? Maybe your late, not-so-great father?
“Nah. I can’t go. I want to, cuz Jaermy is my best friend and it’d be fun. And his dad’s gonna chap’rone, too, cuz his mom’s paranoid. That’s what his dad said. That his mom won’t let him go unless his dad is there to make sure he doesn’t fall out of a tree or drown or something. That’d be cool, huh?” The kid looked pretty excited about those possibilities. “Do you got any pets? You know, like a dog or a cat or even a bird? If you’ve got a cat, it could have kittens, right?”
Blinking as the kid jumped tracks, Diego shook his head.
“No pets. But your bike is set.” Diego rose. With a quick flip of one hand, he righted the bike, then gave it a little shake for good measure. When everything stayed in place, he nudged the kickstand down and let the bike rest on it. “That should hold it for a while.”
“You’re the best, mister.” The kid had to get his smile from his mother, Diego decided. Because not once could Diego remember Ramsey’s smile making him want to offer one in return.
“Diego,” he said after a second, figuring talking was better than standing here on the sidewalk, grinning like an idiot. “You can call me Diego.”
“Cool. I’m Nathan. I’m seven. I’m gonna be a stuntman when I grow up. Or a veterinarian. I’d rather be a Jedi warrior, but Mom says we’ll see about that one. She says that about a lot of stuff. We’ll see. What are you?”
Huh? Was that a question? The kid’s expression said it was, so Diego did a mental replay.
“I’m in security,” he said, using the cover Savino had decided on.
“Bet you’re good at it.” Grabbing the bike by the handles, the kid gave it a good shake, then grinned when the chain stayed in place. “You’re good at fixing things, too. Maybe you could teach me to fix some things?”
Diego didn’t have much experience with kids—hell, he didn’t have any experience. Despite that, he had to figure this one was something special.
Before he could answer him, a delivery truck rumbled its way to a stop in front of the kid’s house. Something he’d noticed was a regular occurrence. At least once, sometimes twice a day.
“You sure get a lot of deliveries,” he observed, watching a guy in shorts carry a stack of boxes toward the door.
“Yeah. Mom gets tons of stuff. She decorates for people’s houses. She orders pillows and bowls and things like that. Sometimes she gets material and things to help her decide colors.”
Convenient. Or it would be if Ramsey were running drugs or stolen goods—that’d be a solid cover. But unless he’d shipped himself home in an ash can, it probably wasn’t pertinent. Lansky would claim otherwise, though, so Diego made a note to mention it in his next report.
He caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. All it took was a casual glance toward the house to send him rocking back on his heels.
Damn.
Not even signing for a slew of packages and fending off the flirtations of the delivery guy were enough to keep Harper Maclean from sending her son a protective frown.
So far his glimpses of her had been at a longer distance than the
