Chapter 3
The Knight
Abby wandered out of the bathroom and into the room with the bar. The bar. With the Fireball. Whew. That was some dangerous stuff. She’d been expecting Goldschlager cinnamon taste, but the whiskey had been smooth and surprisingly tasty. Angela had been able to talk her into more than a few shots.
Angela was fun. And Abby was having fun.
Which kind of surprised her. She hadn’t been to a party where people just had fun in so long, she’d forgotten what it was like.
No one to schmooze. No one to impress, or make sure they were introduced to someone else, or get them to make a big donation to the school.
Just hanging out with friends and having fun.
She might be at her limit though. Of alcohol, not fun. The room was a little wonky.
Lindsey was in the front room standing really close to a tall, good-looking guy in a short-sleeved button-down. She was doing that thing with her hair where she played with the ends of it. She said it made guys think about twisting it in their hands.
Abby wrinkled her nose. The guy reminded her of Tony.
So clean-cut and put together. Not a hair out of place.
Not like the guy from earlier with the tight black T-shirt and tattoos and hair that looked like it’d never seen the inside of a gel bottle.
She’d caught glimpses of him throughout the night, and he’d gotten more attractive each time she saw him, and it wasn’t because of whiskey goggles.
Even when he was scowl-y and broody. Which was every time she’d seen him.
Probably brooding about his lover’s quarrel.
Had a guy ever brooded over her? She sighed and made a conscious effort to swerve away from Melancholy Town. She didn’t want to be that girl at the party who drunk cried. She spied the armor in the foyer and glanced around.
But she could be that girl at the party who took a closer look at the suit of armor.
Tink gritted his teeth. He still couldn’t believe Becky had shown up at the house. How had she even known about the party? She must have heard someone from VACA talking about it because they didn’t mingle socially with their clients, but she wouldn’t say how she found out.
She’d been there to find him. He would’ve blown her off and ignored her, but she’d thrown him a guilt trip about how Melanie needed a strong, dependable father figure and if he’d only give Becky a chance, she knew they’d make a great couple.
It was complete bullshit, and it pissed him off that she was using her daughter to troll for men.
He was antsy and couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t hold a decent conversation.
Couldn’t even finish a bottle of beer. He’d tried playing pool, but there was too much downtime between turns to brood and imagine all the shitty relationships Becky would continue to find herself in and, more importantly, continue to put Melanie in.
The party wasn’t providing the distraction he wanted—he needed to leave. Go for a ride to clear his head. He found Dani in the back room talking to a couple of the club members.
He caught her attention. “Hey, I’m gonna take off.”
She frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a lot of shit in my head. Gonna go for a ride.”
“Where to?”
“Edisto.”
“Be careful. Text me when you make it back.”
“Yes, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek.
“You around on Sunday?” she asked.
“Should be, why?”
“I need a sparring partner.”
Which meant she was probably going to kick his ass for the mom comment. “Where’s Eddie?”
“Got his wisdom teeth yanked today. Doesn’t want me punching him for some reason.”
“Yeah, sure.” Eddie was probably getting the better end of the deal.
He headed down the hall to the front door, waving to a couple of people as he passed. A woman was standing in front of Ned the Knight, staring intently at it.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is there something I can help you with?”
She turned her head and looked at him, her light brown eyes framed by thick dark lashes. “Do you know the origins of this?”
“Ned?”
“Who’s Ned?”
She was a little unsteady on her feet, but she wasn’t slurring.
“The suit of armor. Ned the Knight,” he said.
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.”
“Abby.” He stepped closer. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“To do what?”
“Go for a ride.”
“To where?”
He unfolded his arms and placed his hands on her hips. “Your place. My place. Any place.”
Abby glanced down at her hip. “Does it work?”
“Does what work?”
“Just asking women to go somewhere with you to have sex?”
“I wasn’t actually thinking about sex.” Weirdly, he hadn’t been. He just had an urge to have her close. Maybe go somewhere with this smart, adorable woman. “But the woman usually asks me.”
She looked like she was contemplating it but then took a step back and wagged her finger at him. “Nope. No. No way. No hot, sexy, tattooed biker guys.”
Tink grinned again. “So, you think I’m sexy and hot?”
“And tattooed.”
A woman with dark blonde hair joined them and draped her arm over Abby’s shoulders. “Whatcha doin’, Abbs?”
“Looking at the knight.”
“I can see that.” She gave Tinker an appreciative up and down.
He preferred it when Abby looked at him.
“Not that knight. That knight.” Abby pointed at the suit of armor.
“Uh-huh,” her friend said.
“I already told that one he was too sexy.” She swung her finger around to point at him.
Tink chuckled.
“Abby—are you flirting?”
“No,” Abby said indignantly. She turned an unsure gaze to Tink. “Was I flirting?” She shook her head. “I don’t flirt. Especially not with hot, sexy, tattooed biker guys.”
“Why especially?” He braced for this kiss-off.
This was the point where civilians judged him for his looks and decided he was too dangerous for their delicate sensibilities.
Because having tattoos and riding a motorcycle put him in the dredges of society column before they ever had a chance to know him.
“Because it never turns out the way it does in the books?”
That was the absolute last thing he expected to hear. “What books?”
Her friend grinned. “Yeah, Abby. What books?”
Tinker could see the blush spreading across her cheeks.
“I gotta go.” Abby spun out of her friend’s arm and walked away.
Now he was thoroughly confused. “What books?”
Her friend winked and followed Abby.
Seriously. What was so embarrassing about a book? He ran a hand through his close-cut hair and fought the urge to chase after her. He had a feeling it would make her run faster and farther, but he could feel her slipping through his fingers. Like a dream he tried to hold on to as he woke up.
“Tink.”
He turned as the club president, David “Pothole” McComb, came down the hall.
“Hey, Prez.”
“Katherine said she saw you heading this way. Are you taking off already?”
“I was, but I changed my mind.”
“Cool. Do you have time to take a look at my bike? It’s been running rough the last few days.”
Tink hesitated. He wanted to keep an eye on Abby so he could bide his time and approach her again later, but this was his club president—he couldn’t exactly blow him off for a woman. Even for the first woman who had interested him in longer than he could remember.
“Yeah. Let’s go take a look at it.”
When they finally made it back inside, hands covered in grease, he couldn’t find her or her friend.
Katherine told him Angie and Dani had left right before he and Pothole came back in, so he couldn’t even ask his sister about her new friend.
He’d ask Dani Sunday when they met to spar.
He needed to find a way to see her again.