Dan didn’t take his eyes off the kid, every single detail of his appearance and demeanor suddenly so sharply in focus. “You hiding anyone else in that house, Maggie? Any other secrets? Any other surprises?”
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s just us. Honey, this is . . . a friend of mine, Mr. . . . Gallagher.”
“You do know him.” The boy punched his fist in the air. “Yesss!”
Dan finally turned to look at Maggie. Her color was high as she gripped the dog’s collar with both hands. “This is Quinn.” She tilted her head, an apologetic smile on her face.
Why should she apologize?
The boy bounded toward the car, his jaw open just about the way Dan’s probably was.
“And, this is our dog, Goose,” she added.
“Goose.” He sounded as befuddled as he felt, every synapse in his brain misfiring.
“I know, I know,” the boy said, practically dancing around the car and gingerly touching the hood. “Maverick would have been a better name.”
Dan reached down into years of undercover training, digging for a way to not react or respond. And while he was digging, maybe he could find any possible explanation for what he saw, other than the obvious.
But none came.
“You thought he’d be your wingman,” Dan finally said. “So you named him Goose.”
Quinn whipped around to Dan. “You like Top Gun, too? Cool.” He grinned, revealing neon bands through silver braces. Braces that were so new, his two front teeth still overlapped slightly.
Dan’s tongue automatically traveled over his own front teeth, the slight misalignment as familiar to him as the green eyes he saw in the mirror every morning. The same ones staring at him right now.
The truth gripped him like a fist, shaking him down to his feet, leaving him reeling.
He had a son.
A son.
He turned to Maggie and casually bent down to scratch the dog’s ears. “So what are you two doing tonight?” Some quick stealth work and math needed to be done. “How ‘bout we all go out for dinner?”
Her eyes widened, but the boy snorted. “In this? Is the Pope Catholic?”
Maggie rolled her eyes and laughed softly. “Quinn.”
He turned at the chiding note in his mother’s voice. “Can’t we? I mean, he invited us.”
“I certainly did,” Dan agreed, dangling the keys in front of Quinn. “Can you drive yet?”
He put his hand on his chest and pretended to choke. “Dude. I wish.”
“You must be close to that age.” But thirteen would be the right number.
“He’s only thirteen,” Maggie said.
Oh, man. “I guess that would be pushing the law a little to let him drive,” he said easily. “But the jump seat’s big enough. Let’s go for a ride.”
Quinn beamed. “I’m in.”
“I’m . . . wet.” Maggie said, obviously torn.
“It’s a rental.” Dan put a hand on her shoulder and reached for the passenger door. “You can bring the dog, for all I care.”
She laughed, hesitating just a little.
“Mom, we are so going in this car.”
Defeated, she put up her hands and stepped forward, then stopped. “Wait. I have to lock the doors.”
“Definitely, since we were burglarized the other day,” Quinn said.
“You were?” Dan looked from one to the other. “When?”
“The night . . . we went out.”
“You two went out?” Quinn’s eyes popped. “Seriously?”
“Sort of,” Maggie added.
“Yes,” Dan said right over her words. “So go lock every door in the house, and we’ll take her for a spin.”
The kid hesitated, more out of disbelief than disobedience, but Maggie pointed to the house. “Go. He knows what he’s talking about. He’s a bodyguard.”
“No way!” Quinn almost jumped out of his skin. “That is tight, dude! Hang on. I need shoes, too.” He turned and jogged back down the driveway to the house with Goose close on his heels.
“Wow,” Maggie said, swiping at one of the curls that fell on her face. “I should have such a carrot to dangle all the time.” She stepped back, biting her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him.”
“Why?” Because he’s mine? Of course she couldn’t know, but the reality still rocked him.
“Why didn’t I tell you, or why am I sorry?”
“Both.”
“I didn’t tell you because, I don’t know, raising a teenager is . . . not . . . what most men want to talk about. I’m sorry, because it feels like I deceived you and that doesn’t sit well with me.”
He reached out to push that curl aside for her. “First of all, I’m not most men. Second, if that loses