Weighing the offer, Tobias took a hard look at the guy he’d worked with since he’d first come to town. Kent was ex-military, in his early twenties. He was outgoing, honest, clean cut, and a little chatty for Tobias. Or at least for the man he’d become. The first week Tobias had worked there, Kent had told him about his plight with PTSD. He’d said Cheddar had helped him through some tough times, as did a therapist, realizing too late that if Tobias had wanted to know about his life, he’d have asked. Needless to say, Kent no longer tried to push conversation on him, and he rarely asked about Tobias’s life, which Tobias appreciated. But while Kent seemed to be troubled enough by Tobias’s vibe to ask about it, Tobias saw something new in Kent that sent a streak of jealousy ripping through him.

Kent was the type of guy Madigan should be hanging out with. He’d handled his demons and had something to offer her, like conversation and a positive outlook. Tobias might have stuck to his guns and stayed away from her for the past couple of days, despite desperately wanting to see her again, but that didn’t mean he was going to hand-feed her to another guy.

He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I’ve worked with you for a few months now, and if this is good, then I’m Mary Poppins.”

Tobias hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “You want me to go get you an umbrella so you can float up to the roof?”

Kent shook his head and went into the shop. Tobias ducked under the hood again, thankful for the respite. Well, except for Cheddar, standing sentinel at his side.

A little while later two high-pitched horn beeps sounded, and Tobias peered out from under the hood just in time to see Madigan climbing off her Vespa, round sunglasses hiding her eyes. A flash of heat engulfed him, but he wondered if she’d come to give him hell for the way he’d hightailed it out of her place.

She pulled off her helmet, and he saw her shaking out her hair in slow motion, his mind sprinting back to when she’d ridden him, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, pink nipples poking out between those glossy locks. His dick jerked behind his zipper, and his mind jumped to when she’d turned around, riding him backward. But as she strutted toward him in a dressy white tank top, high-waisted blue linen shorts, and sexy-as-sin strappy, wedged white sandals, the way her smile lit him up inside had him cursing under his breath.

“Hey, broody.” She lifted her hand, dangling a paper bag. “I brought you lunch to make up for fixing my Vespa.”

What the…? Before he could form a sentence, Cheddar bounded out to her, and she crouched with open arms.