Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

It had been twelve years since he’d walked away from his self-appointed duty as her protector. She’d shown absolutely no indication she wanted him to resume that role, but Liam couldn’t shrug off that sense of responsibility so easily. Knowing Riley wouldn’t thank him for his concern, Liam made a mental note to check with his mom to make sure she’d upgraded the alarm system before she sold the business. If she had, well, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure the system was still up to spec. And if she hadn’t, he’d take care of it.

Chapter 2

The numbers blurred as Riley stared at the spreadsheet on her screen.

Should’ve done this last night, she thought with a jaw-cracking yawn.

That had been the plan, but everything about last night had been derailed by six feet two inches’ worth of unwelcome testosterone. She’d been more rattled by contact with Liam than she had been by the near heart attack. There’d been no way she could settle down to work on quarterly taxes after that. Unfortunately, running on four hours’ or less of sleep wasn’t helping her get those taxes done either. Not even a trip on the Good Ship Caffeine was doing much to clear her bleary eyes.

The jangle of the shop bell drew her from the office. At the sight of Liam standing behind his mother in the open doorway, she almost ducked back inside.

You aren’t a coward.

So Riley stood her ground, her hand gripping the travel mug of coffee like a lifeline. When Liam went on upstairs without coming inside, her knees went weak with relief. She sagged onto the stool behind the counter, pathetically grateful not to have to face him yet. Her nerves felt raw, and she needed more time to rebuild the walls he’d shaken so badly last night.

“Sorry I’m late.” Molly shut the door and crossed to the counter.

Riley eyed the tell-tale green-and-ivory striped box in her hands. “If those are pastries from Sweet Magnolias, then all is forgiven.”

“Blueberry struesel muffins.”

Riley actually whimpered. She was supposed to be off sugar, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Retrieving a plastic knife from the back, she carefully cut one of the enormous muffins in half. It was all about moderation, right? Besides, her love of Carolanne Wheeler’s muffins should overshadow her current discomfiture.

Molly accepted the other half. “Wynne called this morning, so I was late getting out the door.”

For the first time since they’d graduated college, Riley was glad her best friend wasn’t living in Wishful. Until Molly’s youngest had moved off to New Orleans, she and Riley had been in each other’s pockets since kindergarten. Most of the time, Riley used work to distract herself from the missing limb sensation of not having Wynne constantly around—there was always plenty of it to keep her busy. But just now, she was relieved. Wynne would absolutely cop to the fact that something was going on between her and Liam.

There couldn’t be anything going on when it came to Liam. That had been decided long ago. Riley would just have to find a way to get over this—Thing. And it wasn’t even a Thing. Her focusing on it was just prolonging the natural conclusion of…whatever it was. The insane attraction that had fairly knocked her on her ass at his welcome home party last December would fade in time. Exposure therapy.

A noise from upstairs had her gaze snapping to the ceiling.

“Liam. I should’ve called you last night to tell you I was having him do some renovations to the apartment upstairs.”

He’d told her then.

“It might’ve saved me the heart attack I almost had when I thought he was a burglar.”

Molly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I’m sorry. He said he gave you quite a scare. What were you doing up here so late?”

“Some stocking. Since Ruby’s out for the wedding, we’re a little behind. It wasn’t a big deal.” She wouldn’t let it be a big deal. Because it wasn’t a Thing. “What motivated you to want to renovate?”

“It’s been just sitting there doing nothing and Liam needed a project. The only time he doesn’t seem to be restless these days is when he’s building something. Plus, income from rent up there would help offset the cost of the building mortgage, and I can give you a b

reak on the lease.”

Riley had to fight the instinctive rejection of her kindness.

Molly laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t fight me on this, Riley. You’ve been killing yourself to make this business work, and you could use a break from at least some of the responsibility. You have a habit of taking on more than the average person.”

Having known her since she was five, Molly was in very good position to know exactly how much Riley had taken on over the years. That Molly could and did look out for her as she did one of her own children humbled Riley, so instead of rejecting the offer out of hand, she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Molly hesitated. “Have you heard from her?”

Riley didn’t have to ask who “her” was. “Last night. She’s in California.”

The jingling of the bell again cut off that tangent of conversation Riley put on her best customer face and turned to greet Vivian Buckley, who was trailed by Ruby Fellowes. “And how are you this fine day, Viv?”

“Trying not to turn into Bridezilla, but I swear, my family is about to run me crazy.”