his eyes on the kid and tried to figure his opening. By the time he removed the keys, he knew the drizzle of sweat skating down his spine had nothing to do with wearing a leather jacket in hotter than usual May sunshine.
Approach an admiral? He had that down pat. He knew the protocol on engaging a working girl on the docks of a foreign country, a militant with a nervous expression or a snitch in the Afghan mountains.
But a kid?
Diego grimaced. He didn’t like to admit that he was totally clueless. But reality was reality. And yeah, he was clueless. He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he watched the boy push his bike closer.
The kid raised his hand to shield his eyes. Even from a dozen yards away, it was easy to see him slide a glance toward his front door, then back Diego’s way.
Giving the door a considering look himself, Diego had a brief vision of Lansky’s theory being true. That Ramsey was inside there, alive and well, kicking back with a beer. Would he be flashing that shit-eating grin of his, looking as if he owned the world? Or would he take one look at Diego and shoot him dead, destroying yet another piece of the brotherhood that the team honored so highly?
Diego’s teeth clenched tight and hard as he turned toward the door of his current abode instead of kicking in the neighbor’s door to find out.
“Hey, mister,” the young voice called.
“Yeah?” Shoulders braced, he froze halfway between the sidewalk and the door. After a long moment, he turned his head to look. That’s when he noticed the bicycle’s chain dangling, its greasy loop of metal scraping along the sidewalk.
“You know anything about bikes?” The kid jerked his chin toward the Harley. “That’s yours, right? So you probably know how to fix ’em and stuff, maybe?”
“You need help fixing your bike?”
The kid looked at him, then at the chain drooping sadly on the sidewalk. Didn’t need to be a mind reader or have jack worth of experience with kids to hear the unspoken “duh” loud and clear.
Diego snorted, amused at his previous hesitation.
“Sure. I can help.” He strode over to take the bike in hand. His gaze tracked the larger sprocket the chain was hanging from, noting the damage to the smaller one behind it.
“This is supposed to be hooked over here,” he pointed out, poking at the chain. He noted the broken teeth, figuring that’s why the chain had slipped.
“I keep putting it there, but it won’t stay.” The kid nudged the chain with a worn tennis shoe, but his eyes stayed on Diego. “I thought you knew bikes.”
“I know how to fix that one.” Diego tilted his head toward the Harley. “We’ll have to see what I can do with yours.”
He dropped into a crouch, flipping the bike to rest upside down on the cement. A couple of tweaks of his fingers had the chain in place.
“It’s not going to stay there,” he noted. “You need to replace this part.”
“Can’t you fix that, too?” The boy’s eyes slid toward his house and whatever he saw there had his bottom lip poking out. “Can’t you try?”
“Why?” Diego followed his gaze, then gave the kid a closer look. He was clean, well-dressed and had an open, easy expression. None of that said abuse to Diego. But, again, what did he know about kids? “You gonna get in trouble over it?”
“Maybe.” One of those sneakers scuffed at the sidewalk as the kid wrinkled his nose. “Can you tell how it got broke just looking at it? Could it have just sorta, you know, fell off?”
“Could these teeth on this sprocket have just sorta fell off?” he repeated, tapping the part in question.
“Yeah. Could it?” His brows drawn tight enough to furrow his freckles, the kid fingered the sprocket. Testing the other teeth, probably.
“Your parents stupid?”
“My mom’s not stupid.” The kids 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.