He credited that superstition for saving his life on more than one occasion when he should’ve died, so he figured he owed her. “I got home safe, so I’d say it did its job. Thank you for caring enough to send it.”
“You mattered. Still do, even if I haven’t exactly shown it since you came back.”
Simple words that he wanted to mean more than she probably did.
“You were angry with me. I get it.”
“I shouldn’t have been. It’s hard for me to think about back then. The fact is, I should thank you for leaving.”
It was the last thing he expected her to say. “Why?”
She pulled her hands free and slipped the medallion over her head, wrapping her fist around it against her breastbone. She closed her eyes and something in her face relaxed, some subtle tension he hadn’t even realized she carried until it was gone.
“Because I’m stronger now than if you’d stayed.”
He frowned, lifting his gaze back to her face. “How so?”
“I learned to rely on myself. No parachute, no fall back, no net. My mother has spent twenty years looking for that. It was all she knew from her parents, from my dad. She never moved beyond that. I did. And I’m so much better off because I learned how to stand completely on my own.”
She sat back, obviously relieved. “So consider tonight both a thank you and an apology. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to forget about the rest. Clean slate.”
Clean slate. No reminders of their complicated past.
Translation: I don’t need you anymore.
And why should she? She’d built a life for herself with no help from anyone. Liam admired the hell out of that indomitable spirit, understood the need to prove oneself. The last thing she needed was any kind of hindrance to her goal of establishing independence, and the last thing he wanted was to somehow drag her back to something she was trying to get away from. He owed her that, if nothing else.
So though it pained him to do so, Liam tapped his glass to hers and forced a smile. “Clean slate.”
~*~
Riley didn’t know what she’d expected from asking for a clean slate. To feel better, somehow. More at ease with the situation and with him. Maybe even for both of them to pretend they’d never met and were on an actual first date.
But she didn’t feel better. After finally finding out what drove Liam into the Marines in the first place, she felt like even more of a bitch than she already had. Add to that the nerves that kept jumping every time he laid his hand over hers, and it was a wonder she managed to get out coherent sentences.
He wasn’t looking at her like a victim, and she was grateful. But he wasn’t looking at her like a date either. That hadn’t really been the point of tonight. The whole distract him with sex appeal plan had flown out the window when he brought up the past straight out of the gate. But sitting there across from him, sharing a lovely meal and good conversation—once they’d left their complicated history in the past—she’d wanted more than the friendship he’d asked for.
He’d returned the medallion. As the dark miles rolled by, Riley wrapped her fist around it again. She didn’t care that it looked ridiculous with her dress. He’d brought back a piece of her father that she’d lost and grieved for years ago. And now, it was a piece of Liam, too. Despite everything, he’d worn it all these years. That had to mean something. Didn’t it?
She glanced at him, skimming her gaze over the strong line of his jaw, down his arms to those very capable hands on the wheel.
Did she have a right to push for more? To complicate things when both of them were aiming for something simple? And did she really, truly want to push for more than friendship after what he’d told her? He’d said he was done with war, but could he really be happy in Wishful, in a life without a mission? If she pursued this and he walked away again…
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
Startled out of her thoughts, Riley sat up a little straighter and realized they were pulling into her driveway. “Nothing that can’t be moved around. What did you have in mind?”
“Can you meet me at Blanchard’s Gym?”
She blinked at him. “At the gym?”
“I’d like to do some refresher training with you on your self defense.”
“What?”
Liam looked over, but there was no flirtatious smile to suggest he was thinking about anything other than actual training. “You did pretty well, considering you haven’t practiced in years, but I’d feel better if you brushed up on things.” At her hesitation, he added, “It’s closed on Sundays, so you don’t have to worry about the other guys. I’ve got a key.”
“I suppose so.” What else was she going to say? She didn’t want to insult his kindness again just because it wasn’t the sort of sweaty, up-close and personal time she’d had in mind.