Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

“I thought it was just kids,” she protested.

“Was that before or after you called 911?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “If he had been a burglar, he could’ve trashed the place and been gone before you ever got here.”

“And you could’ve been hurt or worse,” Liam pointed out. “You know better.”

Her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not a child anymore, Liam, and you are not my keeper. Judd, I’m sorry to have wasted your time. As it’s not actually an emergency, I’m going home. It’s been an exceptionally long day. If there’s nothing further?”

“Just a warning. Next time you have to call on the police, wait for us to do our jobs instead of charging in blind. You might not be so lucky as to have one of the good guys on the other side of the door.”

Riley shot a glance at Liam that clearly questioned whether he fit into that category. “Understood. Thanks for coming. Goodnight.” She strode by him with an aloof grace worthy of any silver screen diva and slammed the door behind her.

Judd raised a brow.

Liam shook his head. “Sweet. She used to be sweet.”

“She still is—to everybody else. What’s up with that? I thought you were supposed to be charming with the ladies.”

“Obviously not that one.” It was exactly his luck that the closest he’d managed to get to Riley Gower since he came home was by nearly scaring her to death. It made repaying his debt damned hard.

Judd radioed the all clear to dispatch. “What was that about you teaching her self defense?”

That was a secret he’d told no one, and Liam didn’t plan to start now. Not even with one of his oldest friends.

“There was a time once when she needed it.” A time when she’d needed a helluva lot more than that. “It was a long time ago.”

Judd waited with that expectant cop stare he was as likely to use on the job as over the poker table, but Liam didn’t volunteer anything else.

“I know something about putting your ass on the line for somebody who can’t defend themselves. It’s hard to let go of the sense of responsibility you feel for that person.”

Because that hit uncomfortably close to the truth, Liam shrugged. “As she said, I’m not her keeper.”

“You lookin’ to be?”

“No.” There were a whole lot of reasons Liam wasn’t fit to be anybody’s keeper. But he couldn’t deny that Riley fell under the heading of unfinished business. Business that had consumed far too many of his waking—and sleeping—thoughts since he’d walked back into her world. This apartment renovation right over her head might be just the opportunity he needed to get some much needed resolution.

“Uh huh.” One corner of Judd’s mouth quirked. “I’ve got eyes to see you noticing she’s not a kid and ears to hear around town that you haven’t said yes to any of the assorted offers of female companionship that have come your way the last six months.”

Liam wondered how long it would take him to be replaced as one of the hottest topics of local gossip. “I would have to be dead not to notice she grew up to have a rocking body, and why does my rejection of female companionship have to have anything to do with that?”

“Because you’re not dead, as you pointed out.”

“Man, you were at my welcome home party. My mother fully expects me to find some woman, settle down, and start giving her grandchildren. She gets a whiff of interest in anybody, she’ll start pushing china patterns or some shit. This town is too small and too damned nosy—as you’ve just illustrated—to be anything but very careful in choosing my companionship. I haven’t even settled on a permanent job yet. I’m sure as hell not in any position to start looking for a permanent woman. And even if I was, Riley Gower is not for me.”

So why the hell couldn’t he get her off his mind?

“Admittedly, she’s not one of the candidates in the pool Omar’s running up at Dinner Belles, but that’s just because nobody’s thought of it.”

“And they can just keep on not thinking of it. Everybody is doomed to disappointment if they expect me to provide fodder for the gossip mill. I am not that interesting.”

Judd laughed. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy boy.” His radio crackled to life. He answered the dispatcher and turned for the door. “Duty calls. See you in the ring Wednesday morning?”

“I’ll be there.” Liam bumped his fist, watched him go.

Free of interruptions, he finished up measurements for the floor plan, made notes about which were the load bearing walls, and locked up. He circled around front, but the pharmacy was dark other than the security lights. Looked like Riley actually had gone home.

Liam didn’t like the thought of her alone in the pharmacy this late at night. Defenseless. Or mostly. This was Wishful and the crime rate was low compared to the rest of the country. But she was still guardian of all kinds of controlled substances. What if somebody decided they wouldn’t take no for an answer? She’d had enough experience with that kind of victimization. The memory of that had him clenching his fists.