She groaned and flopped onto her back. “A small businessman who has no social security number, dozens of last names, and never pays taxes.”

“I pay sales tax… sometimes.”

“Face it, Jack, this Repairman Jack stuff gives you a rush, and you’re hooked on it.”

Jack didn’t like to think of himself as hooked on adrenaline, but maybe it was true. He had to admit he’d had a bodacious buzz after leaving the creep and the stolen toys in front of the Center last night. He’d been completely unaware of how much he was hurting until he got home.

“Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. But let’s just say I retire—hang up the ‘Repairman Jack suit,’ as you so eloquently put it—what then?”

“Then we begin a real life together.”

Jack sighed. A life together with Gia and Vicky… now that was tempting.

And so damn strange. Back in his twenties he’d never imagined himself married or living in any traditional arrangement. And being a father? Him? No way.

But becoming involved with Gia and falling for Vicky had changed all that. He wanted them around, and wanted to be around them, all the time.

If only it were that simple.

“You mean, get married?”

“Yes, I mean get married. Is that so awful?”

“Not the ceremony. And certainly not the commitment. But going to a municipal building and registering my name somewhere…” He faked a minor seizure. “Aaaaargh!”

“You’ll use one of your fake identities—we’ll pick one with a name that sounds nice following Gia and Vicky—and that’ll be it. Easy.”

“Couldn’t we just live together?” Jack said, though he already knew the answer. But at least they were off the subject of his work.

“Sure. Soon as Vicky’s grown up and moved out and married and on her own. Until then, Vicky’s mom doesn’t shack up with anyone—not even that man Jack who Vicky and her mom love so much.”

Gia had been a Manhattanite and an artist for many years now, and seemed every bit as urbane as the next, but every so often the Iowa farm girl nestling deep within her surfaced to call the shots.

Which was okay with Jack. That Iowa farm girl was part of her appeal, part of what made her Gia.

But marriage wasn’t the problem. Repairman Jack was the real barrier to going public with the relationship. For as soon as Jack moved in with Gia and Vicky—or vice versa—he became vulnerable. He tended to make enemies in his line of work. He tried to keep his face out of his fixes, but a certain amount of exposure was unavoidable. A fair number of people with a grudge knew what he looked like. Every so often one of them found out where he lived. What followed was usually unpleasant. But because Jack lived alone, because he was very circumspect about appearing in public with anyone he cared about, the grudge guys had to deal directly with him. Fine. He could handle that. And he did. Most of them were never seen again.