“I didn’t ask for you to come rescue me.”
No, Riley Gower didn’t ask for help. Ever. Even when she needed it.
“Would you be this ornery at an offer of help from anybody, or is it me in particular you object to?”
She dropped her arms, face momentarily stricken. “I don’t object to you.”
He didn’t know what made him push rather than leaving it alone. “Really? Because your default attitude toward me since I got home has been dialed pretty much consistently to pissed off.”
Riley closed her eyes, and he had the distinct impression she was praying for patience. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’ve hardly even seen you since you got back. And when I have, it hasn’t been under the best of circumstances. It’s been…a stressful year.”
Liam wondered what that meant but decided not to press the issue.
Riley continued to babble. “And I was on my way into work to prepare the monthly reports because they’re late, and my accountant needs them so she can prepare the quarterly taxes on the pharmacy. Taxes. At 6:30 in the morning. And there’s no coffee.” She finished in a tone that suggested this was acceptable grounds for homicide, let alone a little bitchiness.
“You gave up coffee?”
“God no. I’d sooner give up sex.”
So if I brought you coffee, there’s a chance… Liam mentally slapped himself. Bad idea, boy-o. She isn’t for you.
Why was he even thinking of her like this at all? For twenty years, she’d just been his little sister’s best friend. Sweet, tender-hearted Riley. A kid he had the urge to protect.
Except that was the thing, wasn’t it? Once that urge to protect had become necessity, it had changed things between them, added a dynamic they’d never discussed. Liam didn’t know how or even if he should bring it up now.
Either way, she definitely wasn’t a kid anymore. And his feelings toward her were decidedly not brotherly since he’d come home and found that she’d matured into a 1940s pin-up model. That combination of inherent sweetness and guileless, oblivious sex appeal had fueled more than one fantasy and had him turning down offers for companionship any other man would’ve taken without hesitation. Damned if he understood why, since he knew he couldn’t act on this insanity. She had no business showing up in his dreams like some silver screen sex goddess.
Liam realized he was staring and that Riley’s cheeks were flushed, her expression pinched with embarrassment.
“Christ. I don’t have a functional brain without coffee. No filter. Please, just go on about your day. I can take care of this.”
He turned back to the engine. “In the military, not asking for help when you need it is a good way to get yourself killed.”
“I’m not in the military. And this is hardly a life or death situation.”
“Given the age and shape of your car, I don’t know that your assessment is accurate. Go crank it.”
“Really, I’ve got this.”
Liam straightened, deliberately using his full six feet, two inches to loom over her. “Get in the car and crank it, Riley.”
For three long seconds, she stood toe-to-toe with him, chin lifted toward his in challenge. The stubborn cast of her lips had him wanting to back her against the car for a good long taste. Before he could give in to that lunacy, she broke eye contact and scurried around to the driver’s side.
Get a grip, Montgomery.
The Honda’s engine coughed and sputtered, something in the internal workings giving an ominous grind before it wheezed back to silence.
“Okay, stop,” he called.
Riley hopped back out as he closed the hood. “What is it?”
“Nothing I can fix on the side of the road. Get your stuff. I’m taking you in to work.”
“But—”
“And then I’m coming back with the truck and trailer to haul this home for a closer look.” Though Liam was positive she wasn’t going to like whatever he found.
“But I don’t—”