Page 3 of Tropical Inferno

“Toronto.”

He nodded. “Love Toronto. Ever eat at Habaneros? It used to be Hernando’s Hideaway.”

Her eyes widened in surprise that he was familiar with her favorite Mexican restaurant in downtown Toronto. “Of course! Probably drank too much there a time or two…”

He laughed. “Ditto.”

They walked down to the parking lot and Maddie groaned as soon as she saw the rental. Sure enough, those idiots had broken out the passenger side window and left a mess. There hadn’t been anything for them to take—the stereo wasn’t removable and she hadn’t left anything on the seats—but they’d made a mess and damaged the car.

“Dammit,” she muttered. “It’s a rental… Yet another disaster.”

“We’re gonna have to call the police,” he sighed. “Sorry, but if we don’t, you’ll be liable for the damage and it’s not worth it to be on the hook for that.”

Tears welled in her eyes again. “This trip is never going to end, is it?”

He reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “One thing at a time, okay? I’ll stay with you, make sure you’re okay.”

She swallowed hard. “You don’t have to… I can, I, uh, oh hell, who am I kidding?” She looked down sadly. “I’d appreciate your help. Thank you.”

It was more than two hours before police came to the scene, took statements, wrote reports and told Maddie they would look into it, but there was very little chance they would catch the culprits. By the time the police left, the sun was rising high in the sky, it was getting hot, and Maddie was starving.

“Do you know if there’s a place I can get something to eat?” she asked Garrett, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead.

“The diner across the street isn’t bad, and you look like you’re about to drop.” He dug out his keys. “Come on, we’ll take my rental, go get some food and then we can get the situation with your car sorted.”

She paused. “You don’t even know me… Why are you being so nice?”

He shrugged. “You look kind of overwhelmed, and I’d like to think if something like this happened to my sister, someone would be there to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re sweet,” she said softly, meeting his eyes.

“Not that sweet,” he chuckled. “But I’m trying.”

“Are you generally not a nice guy?” she asked, following him to his rented SUV.

“I’m…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say I’m no angel.”

“And I’m getting in a car with you,” she chuckled. “Probably not my brightest move.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. “But I can give you my sister’s number and she’ll tell you I’m not as bad as I look.”

“Because your tattoos are…misleading?”

“For sure.” He glanced over at her as he pulled out of the parking lot. “They all have meaning—they’re not just decorative.”

“Yeah?”

“My favorite is the dog tags on my shoulder, because they were my dad’s. He died in Desert Storm when I was a kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Thanks. The others are all related, important for different reasons, but it would take hours to explain them.”

“The ones I see are beautiful,” she said. “My brother is getting his whole back done to cover…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, an accident.”

They pulled up to the diner and Hawk motioned her to go ahead. “I need to make a phone call. Go on and get us a table. I’ll be right in.”

She hesitated but then nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

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