Jim refocused on the pair of them. What had been painfully lacking over dinner when Vin had looked at Devina was totally and completely showing now: His eyes were locked on the woman in front of him, and Jim was willing to bet his left nut that if he’d asked the guy anything from what she was wearing to how tall she was to what, if any, perfume she wore, the answer coming back would have been one hundred percent accurate.

Jim frowned more deeply…. What if he was wrong? What if Devina wasn’t Vin’s right path?

“Please, Vin,” the woman said. “Let him take you back.”

Whatever. There was time to worry about that stuff later. Right now, he had to get Vin home. “Give me your keys, my man.”

“Please,” the woman prompted.

Vin actually did it. Palmed up the ringle-jingle, or in the M6’s case the black fob, and handed it over to Jim.

“How will you get back to your bike?” Vin asked.

Jim clapped his ass pocket, thinking he’d cab it—and found that he’d been as illegal as Adrian. No wallet. Which meant no license and no cash for a taxi.

Shit, the bike wasn’t registered or insured either.

Jim’s expression seemed to speak for itself as Vin laughed a little. “No plate on that Harley you rolled in on. No license for you, either?”

“Hadn’t expected to come this far on it. But don’t you worry. I’ll obey all traffic laws.”

“Is your car a stick?” the woman asked Vin. When he nodded, she shook her head. “That’s a shame, because I can’t drive a manual. But maybe I can follow you both and drive you”—she nodded at Jim—“back to wherever you live.”

“Here will be fine.”

“You’re going to call a flatbed for the bike?” the woman said. “Because you are way illegal.”

“Yeah. A flatbed. I’ll get one of those.”

Okay, it was time for the kind of good-bye that didn’t require an audience.

Vin pointed to his car. “Considering you have the key, you mind warming that up?”

Jim’s brow rose. “I might be acting like your chauffeur, but I’m not wearing a cap and uniform. So if you want some privacy, just ask for it.” The guy turned and gave Marie-Terese a nod. “I’ll meet you out in front of the Commodore.”

She nodded back. “See you there.”

Vin watched the guy get behind the wheel of the M6 and shut the door. A moment later, the engine turned over and a thumping vibrated. Stereo was on. Nice touch.

Marie-Terese shook her head. “You really need to go to the doctor.”

“Would you feel better if I told you I’ve been doing that since I was eleven?”

“No.”