He held out his arm. She automatically slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the strength of his ropy muscles evident through the supple fabric.

“You look very nice, too,” she returned the compliment.

“I feel like a penguin,” he grumbled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to move in one of these things?”

Katrina gestured to her slim-fitting dress. “As opposed to moving in this?”

“Nobody expects you to hop out of the car and change a tire.”

“You’re planning to change a tire tonight?”

“You never know what might happen.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that.

He took her hand and pressed it to his jacket pocket.

She felt a hard, rectangular lump against his hip. “What on earth?”

“Multitool,” he told her. “Knife, screwdriver, file, pliers.”

“You’re armed with a tool set?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll be in a ballroom,” she pointed out. “I expect there’s a maintenance crew. And the worst thing likely to happen tonight is a broken shoe buckle.”

They passed through the hotel exit to the sidewalk, where a lineup of shiny black SUVs waited for guests. She glanced around but didn’t spot her sisters and brothers.

“I can fix a broken shoe buckle,” said Reed. “I can also repair a harness, remove a splinter, whittle some kindling and fix an outboard motor.”

“I can’t do any of those things, with or without a multitool. Well, maybe remove a splinter,” she allowed. Then she glanced ruefully at the tiny clutch purse that contained nothing but the bare necessities. “But not with anything I brought along tonight.”

Reed opened the back door to one of the vehicles. “That’s the beauty of the system,” he told her, cupping his palm over her elbow to help her into the seat.