Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

Not on the menu, he reminded himself and immediately began to mentally tear apart a Beretta M9 as a distraction. “Sounds good.”

“Tonight work for you?”

“Sure.”

“We’ll go to Magnolia Heights.”

“All the way in Lawley?”

“I know how much you love their prime rib.” She dropped her voice low. “You said want to be friends. If you’re serious about that, there are things we should probably talk about, and I’d just as soon not do it where anybody in town can hear.”

Clearly she was done dancing around the issue. Good.

“Pick you up at 6:30.”

Chapter 5

Safely ensconced back in Jo, it was all Riley could do not to hyperventilate. What the hell had she done? In what world was it actually a good idea to face this head on? To invite him to dinner to talk about the past on purpose?

The heat had fried her brain. That was it. She was under the influence of dehydration and the sight of all his muscles in action. Between that and feeling gooey toward him over all the nice things he’d done, she’d suffered a massive lapse in judgment.

There was no way out of it. You didn’t cancel a thank you dinner. Postponement wouldn’t help anything. If she never went through with it, she’d look bitchy and ungrateful. Which meant her only possible option to potentially avoid this conversation was distraction.

She thought of what Autumn had said about Drool Night and picked up the phone. “I need your help.”

Autumn was waiting when Riley got back to the duplex.

“I’ve lost my mind.”

“You’ve found your gumption,” Autumn corrected. “Way to go for asking him out.”

“It’s just a thank you dinner for fixing my car. It’s not a date.”

“You did not call me over here to help you prepare for a non-date. You wanted help in making Liam see you as something other than a little sister or a friend, and I’m going to deliver. Get your ass in the shower, while I peruse your closet.”

Grumbling, Riley did as she was told.

As the heated spray beat on her tired muscles—she was going to feel the effects of wielding that sledgehammer for at least a week—Riley reflected on all the many ways this dinner could blow up in her face. He could think she was throwing herself at him and not catch her—coming up with all new reasons for them to feel awkward around each other. He could relegate her permanently to the friend zone. He could admit he’d really only ever seen her as another sister. He could not be distracted by whatever Autumn came up with to make him drool and want to actually talk about the letter. Or she could cave and bring it up only to find out that he’d never even gotten the thing and didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. Worst of all, he could believe she was like her mother, trying to woo him in order to find some kind of protector or caretaker.

As if.

She’d rather give up chocolate for life than ever follow in those footsteps.

Wrapped in her robe, Riley stepped back into her bedroom. “This is a terrible idea I don’t have any idea what to say to him. I’m going to trip all over my tongue.”

“It’s an opportunity,” Autumn corrected. “And you’re not going to trip over your tongue because he’s going to be too busy tripping over his.”

She emerged from the closet with a little black dress. Knee-length, with fluttering cap sleeves, the princess seams and sweetheart V-neck played up every asset Riley had, clinging to her curves like a second skin. She’d never had excuse to wear it.

“This dress is sex on a stick. We’ll do up some Veronica Lake hair, smoky eyes, siren red lips, and Sergeant Montgomery won’t know what hit him.”

Riley rocked the dress. She knew she did. She’d bought it because it made her feel feminine and sexy. Confident. God knew she could use some confidence when it came to Liam. And yet…

“I don’t know.” Maybe she should just go casual—or at least as casual as one ever went to Magnolia Heights.

“You are not required to know, you’re just required to wear the outfit.”

Riley took a long look at the dress. It really would be a shame to let it go to waste. “Tell me how to do the hair.”