Know Me Well E-Book

Kait Nolan

• Herausgeber: Take The Leap Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

She’s got a to-do list a mile long. He’s got a toolbox—and a whole lot of unfinished business. In Wishful, some sparks never fade.
 
Riley Gower is a pharmacist, business owner, and small-town staple who’s barely keeping her head above water. Between keeping the lights on, bailing out her free-spirited mother (again), and navigating a crumbling car and tighter budget, she’s got zero time for distractions—especially not the broody Marine who just came back to town.

Liam Montgomery was her childhood hero, her teenage crush, and the one person who saw her when she needed it most. Now, he’s back—older, hotter, and renovating the apartment above her shop. As proximity turns to tension and old sparks catch fire, Riley’s carefully ordered life threatens to turn upside down.

But Wishful is a town built on second chances—and when past mistakes meet present longing, it just might take a stubborn woman and a determined man to rebuild something real.

Filled with wit, warmth, and swoony slow-burn chemistry, Know Me Well is a cozy small-town romance about coming home, owning your strength, and finally choosing love when it knocks on your door.

Leseprobe

Know Me Well

Wishful Romance

Book 2

Kait Nolan

Contents

Invite

A Letter to Readers

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Sneak Peek Make You Feel My Love

Sneak Peek Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Other Books By Kait Nolan

About Kait

Acknowledgments

Know Me Well

Written and published by Kait Nolan

Copyright 2015 Kait Nolan

Cover design by Lily Bear Designs

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following is a work of fiction. All people, places, and events are purely products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

For Erica,

Because you said there weren’t enough pharmacists as sheroes.

P.S. You licked it, so that makes it yours.

Love,

K

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A Letter to Readers

Dear Reader,

This book is set in the Deep South. As such, it contains a great deal of colorful, colloquial, and occasionally grammatically incorrect language. This is a deliberate choice on my part as an author to most accurately represent the region where I have lived my entire life. This book also contains swearing and pre-marital sex between the lead couple, as those things are part of the realistic lives of characters of this generation, and of many of my readers.

If any of these things are not your cup of tea, please consider that you may not be the right audience for this book. There are scores of other books out there that are written with you in mind. In fact, I’ve got a list of some of my favorite authors who write on the sweeter side on my website at https://kaitnolan.com/on-the-sweeter-side/

If you choose to stick with me, I hope you enjoy!

Happy reading!

Kait

ChapterOne

RILEY GOWER HADN’T PLANNED on spending her anniversary surrounded by boxes of stock and empty shelves. From a business standpoint, the empty shelves were a good thing. It meant people were actually buying the products she carried, in addition to the medications kept behind the counter. In the year since she’d bought out her boss’s share in Wishful Discount Drugs, that had often meant the difference between keeping the lights on and having to rob Peter to pay Paul. She was in the black—barely—and that merited celebration, albeit more of a chips and queso and margaritas at Los Pantalones variety than champagne and caviar.

Instead of celebrating, she was camped out filling shelves, well after the late summer sun had faded, because Ruby Fellowes, her cashier/stocker/order-taker/general-Jill-of-all-trades, who’d worked at the pharmacy since God was a boy, had taken off all week to help prepare for her niece’s wedding. At her current rate, Riley would be lucky to eke out a half-assed celebration with the emergency bar of Toblerone in the vegetable drawer of her refrigerator before she fell into bed and passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“Happy businiversary to me,” she muttered.

The butt busting was worth it, even if owning her own business felt a little more like prison than freedom at the moment. It meant she’d succeeded on her own terms, without a handout or a hand up from some man. Her success and its consequent stresses were hers and hers alone, and she couldn’t put a price on the value of that.

As her phone rang out with the tones of “Crazy Train”, all pleasure in her accomplishment bled away. She could ignore it, let the call go to voice mail. It might be nothing.

But long experience had her instincts tightening with dread. She knew it wasn’t nothing. Bracing herself, Riley answered. “Hi Mom.”

“Hey, baby.” Sharilyn sounded tired, with that forced edge of cheer that made Riley’s stomach curdle.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Why should anything be wrong? Can’t I call my only child to say hello?” She was talking too fast, too breezy, so Riley said nothing, just waited. At length, Sharilyn hiccuped and burst into tears. “Hal left me.”

Riley repressed a curse and tried to find some sympathy. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Sharilyn launched into a diatribe about everything that had gone wrong on the multi-month cross-country RV trip she’d taken with her most recent beau. By the time her mother finally wound down and got the tears under control, a tension headache had sunk claws deep into Riley’s scalp.

“I really am sorry.” And some part of her was. Because her mother had truly believed Hal, like all his predecessors, was The One, and she’d given herself whole-heartedly to the relationship.

“It will be all right.”

The note of determination creeping into Sharilyn’s voice made Riley wonder whether she already had some other guy in mind to save her this time. Or was it to be Riley herself in the role of knight to her mother’s damsel in distress? Riley’s own armor was pretty damned battered after all these years.

“I need a favor, sweetie.”

Wary, she asked, “What?”

“I’m out here all on my own and Hal didn’t leave me with anything.”

Don’t say it, Riley thought. Don’t you dare say it.

“I need you to loan me some money.”

She said it.

Riley pinched the bridge of her nose. Why was she even calling it a loan? It wasn’t like she’d paid back any of the other loans Riley had made her over the years, when the boyfriend or husband du jour turned out to be a shit and not interested in dealing long-term with the damsel in distress routine her mom had perfected. Christ, Riley had taken over the bill management in junior high school, started paying the mortgage her freshman year of college.

“Just enough to get me home,” Sharilyn continued.

“Mom, did you forget you sold the house?”

“Of course I didn’t. But Wishful is still home.”

How could it still be home when she had nowhere to live here anymore?

“I thought I could stay with you for a while.”

Oh God. Riley could actually feel the blood vessels behind her eyes threatening to burst.

“There’s no room at my place, Mom. I don’t even have a guest room.”

“I could sleep on the couch. It’d just be for a little while. Until I get back on my feet.”

Until she found another sugar daddy with a savior complex. A thump sounded from above, pulling her attention.

“Riley?”

“Hang on a sec.” Straining, Riley listened harder, expecting scratching or other signs that squirrels or raccoons had taken up residence in the empty second floor of the building. But what she heard were clear footsteps. Person-sized footsteps.

“Mom, I need to go.”

“But what about⁠—”

“I’ll wire you money for a bus ticket home.” Never mind that it was her last $300. She couldn’t leave her mother stranded in Timbuktu. “Text me where you are.” Riley hung up before Sharilyn could say anything else. Striding across to the light switch, she flipped it off so she could see the street outside. The empty street.

Surely anyone with legitimate business up there would be parked out front. And what legitimate business could there be? The upstairs had been vacant forever.

She dialed 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” Riley blessed the interconnected nature of small towns as she recognized the voice of the dispatcher.

“Janette, it’s Riley Gower. I’m at the pharmacy after hours and there’s an intruder upstairs.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. I’ve been stocking.”

“Are the doors locked?”

“Yes.”

“Okay you stay put. I’m sending somebody as soon as I can, but it might take a little bit. There’s a pretty big domestic disturbance going on across town.”

Assured someone was coming, Riley hung up and called Molly Montgomery. Her old boss still owned the building, so whatever was going on up there affected her. From behind the counter, she listened to the phone ring and watched the front windows, waiting to see one of the police cruisers along Pitts Street or a shadowy figure coming out of the alley. Nobody picked up. Riley opted not to leave a message until there was something more definitive to report. No reason to worry her unless something was really wrong.

In the silence, the ticking of the wall clock sounded almost as loud as the intermittent footsteps over her head. The intruder wasn’t making any efforts to be quiet. There were no sounds of stuff being moved. Of course, there might not be any stuff to be moved.

Five minutes dragged into ten that seemed more like weeks. Still no police.

Riley was tired and edgy, and all she really wanted was to head home. But she couldn’t just go with somebody up there. Somebody who was evidently in no particular hurry to leave.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was Wishful, not the big city. Anybody looking for drugs would try to rob the pharmacy directly. It was probably kids, looking for…who knew what. Maybe some kind of love nest or a place to smoke. They’d be more scared of her than she was of them.

Riley swiped the counting spatula from behind the counter. It didn’t have an edge and might have had more in common with a pie server than a knife, but in the dark, it sure as hell looked like a blade and it was better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside and circled around to the side of the building. Slipping cautiously through the access door, she noted that no light shone in the stairwell, but a faint glow spilled out from the partially open door at the top.

Hardly daring to breathe, Riley climbed the stairs, thanking God that the treads were concrete, instead of wood or metal that could creak. At the landing she hesitated, peering inside.

In all the years she’d worked for Molly, she’d never been up here. Hadn’t ever had reason to. Like many of the buildings downtown, the second floor of the pharmacy was an apartment. Or at least it had been at some point in the distant past. In the narrow entryway, wallpaper peeled off in strips. She couldn’t see past the wall to the room beyond. Everything was silent now. No footsteps. No sound of teenagers necking.

Was there another exit? Had whoever broken in managed to get out before she came upstairs?

Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind telling her to turn back around and wait for Wishful PD, Riley clutched her counting spatula tight and eased inside.

No one was in what passed for the living room, which boasted two of the four street-facing windows. A hall branched off at the rear of the room. The only light shone out from a single open door on the wall opposite the windows. Moving as quietly as possible, Riley sneaked over to the door and looked into the room.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Riley shrieked. The spatula fell to the floor as she reached across her body to grip his wrist, acting on long ago training as she tugged her assailant forward, jamming her elbow back into his ribcage, as she ducked and pivoted to twist his arm behind his back. Except that he countered, moving with her, doing something to shift the balance, until it was her arm twisting, her body crumpling.

Terror whitewashed her mind. She lashed out, no finesse, no technique, striking whatever she could reach. Her assailant let out an ooph and wrapped her in a bear hug, pinning her arms. She couldn’t suck in enough breath to scream again.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay! Riley, stop. It’s okay. It’s me! It’s Liam.”

Liam Montgomery. Her one time savior.

Because he meant safety, she let out a sob of relief.

His arms loosened, shifting her to face him, and she couldn’t fight because her legs had turned to noodles and every atom in her body wanted to turn into him and hang on.

“It’s okay. I’ve gotcha.”

Except he didn’t. He hadn’t. Not for twelve years.

She stood on her own now.

Straightening, Riley pushed at the wall of his chest. “Let me go.”

“Just take a minute to catch your breath.”

How the hell was she supposed to catch her breath when he was right there, in all of his big, badass Marine glory? Her heart renewed its frenetic thumping for entirely different, wholly unwelcome reasons. She shoved at him again before she could do something really stupid, like fist her hands in his shirt and drag his mouth to hers to put all this adrenaline to better use.

“Let me go, Liam.”

* * *

Liam could still feel Riley shaking. His instincts shouted to soothe and protect, and he was becoming very aware that the woman in his arms was a long damn way from the girl he remembered. He’d known that, objectively. But seeing with his eyes was a helluva lot different from feeling with his body. Now he knew just how well those exquisite curves of hers fit against all the hard lines of him. And damn him, he liked it.

She shoved again. Liam wasn’t sure her legs would hold her yet, but because he wasn’t positive she wouldn’t try to slug him again, he released her.

She stumbled, throwing up a hand in the universal stop gesture, even as he stepped forward, reaching out to steady her. Because, of course, she’d rather struggle than take help from him. And he’d earned that.

Liam curled his hands into fists to keep from touching her.

Riley let out a shaky breath and straightened. Whatever momentary softening had been brought on by fear was gone. “Jesus Christ, you about gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?”

Clearly continuing to fuck things up with you.

He eyed her still clenched hands and tapped the tape clipped to his belt.“Measuring.”

“For what?”

“Mom’s decided she wants to rent out the apartment. She wanted me to look into doing some renovations up here.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

Liam found himself wanting to smooth away the furrow between her dark brows. Instead, he backed up a few paces to give them both some space and kicked back against the kitchen counter. “She only just decided at dinner. I ran out of projects at home, and I think she wants me out from underfoot. I’m making a floor plan.”

“At ten-thirty on a weeknight?” Riley demanded.

“It’s as good a time as any.”

“In the dark?”

“Most of the light bulbs are burned out. What are you still doing here? The pharmacy closed hours ago.”

“I’m working. Or I was, until you scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Doing what?”

“Stocking.”

“What happened to Ruby?”

“Are you living under a rock? She’s out helping with Vivian Buckley’s wedding.”

Liam dimly remembered his friend Reuben Blanchard, who owned the local boxing gym, was standing up as best man in that wedding. He knelt to pick up the counting spatula Riley had dropped. “And you were planning on doing what with this?”

She scooped a hand through her dark brown hair and didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Intimidating the intruder.”

Liam lifted a brow. She scowled back at him, an expression he’d come to expect whenever he got within ten feet of her—which wasn’t often. It was a far cry from how she’d looked at him in high school.

“Good to know you still remember some of the self defense I taught you. That probably would’ve worked on somebody without combat training.” She could do with a refresher course, but now was absolutely not the time to bring that up.

Something flickered in her eyes before she held out her hand for the spatula. “Thankfully, I haven’t had cause to use it until tonight.”

“Glad to hear it.” He’d worried about that after he’d enlisted. Not that she’d have believed it, and not that she’d given him opportunity to say so in the last twelve years.

“I’ll go ahead and warn you, the police are on their way.”

“Sensible to have called them. Why didn’t you wait for them?”

“Good question.” This came from the open doorway.

Of course the responding officer would be Judd. Because the best friend who’d had Liam’s back since fifth grade was going to walk into this situation and know something was up. Shit.

Judd stepped inside, thumbs hooked in his utility belt. He nodded a greeting to Liam before pegging Riley with a gimlet stare. “I know Janette told you to stay put.”

“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.

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.

ChapterTwo

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 streusel 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 break 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.”

“You’s already there, baby,” Ruby said.

Vivian shot her aunt a dark look. “Don’t even.”

Riley repressed a smile. “The wedding’s next weekend, right?”

“It is. Mama’s about beside herself with the details. Because, of course, Mama Pearl Buckley can’t be satisfied with being the Goddess of Pie in this town. She can’t dare let somebody else bake the wedding cake. Never mind that Carolanne’s are amazing and we have a hundred and seventy five thousand other things to do between now and the wedding. Violet’s on a tear because she’s convinced Mama’s trying to matchmake her for the reception—and who are we kidding? It’s Mama, so of course she is. Omar and George are being Switzerland. And Ray and Carmen and their families don’t get in until middle of next week.” Vivian reached over the counter to take Riley by the wrists, a faintly crazed look in her eyes. “I’m desperate. Ruby tells me you’ve got a Chill The Heck Out kit for brides. Tucker says I’m not allowed to come back to the office or set foot in a courtroom until I get it, and I’m due in front of Judge Carpenter at three.”

Riley said a silent prayer of thanks that she was an only child. “Deep breaths. I’ve got exactly what you need.” She gathered up the essential oils for the Stress Away kit. “So where’s Darius during all this? Can’t he take some of the heat?”

“Gettin’ ready to leave for New Orleans for his bachelor party. I mean, at least he’s doing it this weekend instead of right before the wedding, so he’ll be recovered, but, Lord have mercy, I need all this to be over and soon.”

“Breathe, baby girl,” Ruby ordered.

“T minus a week and change to your honeymoon in Jamaica,” Molly reminded her.

Riley took Vivian’s hands and rubbed a few drops of the stress away oil on the undersides of her wrists, making slow circles over her pulse points. “Just focus on the finish line of those sandy beaches and lazy ocean waves. A whole week away from work, away from family, just you and your new hubby and an all-inclusive resort package.”

Vivian closed her eyes and exhaled long and slow, some of the tension draining out of her shoulders. “I can do that. Vacation. Glorious vacation.”

Riley continued to rub Vivian’s wrists and let the fantasy of a vacation seep into her own mind, imagined wiggling her toes in the sand and feeling salty breezes against her skin. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Not that she had anyone to share it with, but at this point a vacation of any kind would be amazing.

“I feel better.”

“Toldya.” Ruby crossed her arms in satisfaction.

“What is this stuff?” Vivian picked up the bottle.

“It’s a blend of lavender, vanilla, cedarwood, lime, and a couple of other essential oils designed to reduce your stress. Here, dab a bit more behind your ears and on the back of your neck. Like perfume.”

“Smells wonderful.”

“It does,” Riley agreed. Deciding she could use some too, she added a few drops to the diffuser on the counter. “No side effects, no crash, no overdosing. Just use as you need.”

“I’ll take it! What do I owe you?”

Riley folded Vivian’s hand around the bottle. “Not a thing. Consider it an early wedding present.”

“Are you sure? Because this stuff is surely worth its weight in gold.”

Delighted to share her passion for essential oils, Riley smiled. “Positive. Consider it a gateway oil. Come see me when you get back and I can introduce you to all the other zillions of things you can do with them.”

“Deal.”

“Come on, baby girl. We got an appointment with that florist in Lawley.” Ruby began herding her niece out the door.

“Good luck, Viv,” Riley called.

“See you after the wedding, Ruby,” Molly added.

Ruby waved and shut the door behind them.

Riley picked her coffee back up, watching the two women disappear from view. “That. That right there is why some people should just elope.”

“Is that what you’d do?” Molly asked.

Shrugging, Riley took her stool again. “Would depend on the guy, I guess. It’s what my parents did. But as I’ve already married the business, it’s a moot point. Anyway, I think the oils will help her if she’ll use them.”

“I’d say that’s been a great sideline you’ve added.”

“If somebody likes one, they usually come back for more.”

The bell rang again as their pharmacy tech, Jessie Applewhite, strolled in. “I come bearing mail.”

“Early for that,” Riley noted.

“I ran into Otis as I was crossing the green. He passed it off.”

“I’ll trade you for a muffin.” She nudged the box toward Jessie.

Jessie handed over the bills—because what else would they ever get here at the business?—and pounced on the baked goods. As more customers came in, Riley passed that duty off to Molly and retreated into the office to see what the damage was.

She did the math, feeling anxiety creep up as she compared the total of the bills and the balance of the business account. Payroll was due next week. She checked the due dates on the bills and started figuring how well she could manage her personal accounts to take a pay cut so everyone else could get paid in-full and on-time.

Molly stuck her head into the office. “Everything good?”

Riley offered a sunny smile as she shoved the bills into a drawer and closed the balance sheet on the computer. “Everything’s just fine.”

* * *

Liam’s fist connected with Judd’s chin. The impact sang all the way up his arm. He checked his instinct to immediately press the advantage, hesitating long enough for his friend to stumble back toward the ropes and shake off the blow. A friendly sparring match wasn’t the battlefield he’d lived on for more than a decade. This was all about exercise. And a little bit of payback for his torture about Riley.

From outside the ring, Reuben Blanchard shouted, “Keep your hands up, Hamilton! Montgomery’s a sneaky son of a bitch. You’ve gotta protect your head.”

Judd had barely reset his stance and lifted his gloved hands when Liam lunged forward, driving him back. Judd bounced off the ropes and ducked under Liam’s jab, but not before catching a second body shot to the ribs.

“Break!” Reuben shouted.

Liam tugged off a glove and spit out his mouth guard. “What is up with you, man? Your head is not in the ring.”

Judd slid down to a stool in the corner. “Lot on my mind. They finally opened the search for the new Chief of Police.”

“Yeah?” Liam tugged off his other glove. “Bet Chief Curry’s happy about that. Didn’t he announce he was ready to retire back in January?”

“Yep. I’m gonna throw my hat in.”

Reuben climbed through the ropes and handed both of them bottles of water. “You got much competition?”

“Locally, no. But they’re opening it up to a nationwide search. I don’t know how much of a shot I’ve got. They’ll probably go with somebody older, more experienced. But pulling somebody in from outside…no guarantee they’ll stay for the long haul. So that’s in my favor. We’ll see.”

Liam envied him. It might be a long shot, but at least Judd had a vision for his future, for what he wanted to do with his life. That was more than Liam himself had managed since he left the Marines.

“Good for you, man. I’ll be rooting for you.”

Judd offered his fist. “Hey, if I get it, that’ll leave a hole open in the department. You could always trade your desert camo for blue. You’d make a helluva cop.”

Reuben snorted. “SWAT maybe. Not local PD.”

Liam bumped the offered fist. “He’s right. I’d be bored out of my mind. Rematch soon?”

“You know it. And next time you won’t get in so many lucky shots.”

“Lucky my ass.”

Judd grinned. “See y’all at poker night.”

“We look forward to taking your money,” Reuben assured him.

As Judd disappeared into the locker room, Liam climbed out of the ring. He considered putting in some time on the speed bag to get his heart rate up.

“I’ll go a few rounds if you want,” Reuben offered. “Or listen. Either way, somethin’s gnawing at you.”

“Not sure either would actually help.”

“You sleepin’?”

“Mostly.” He hadn’t been afflicted by the night terrors and flashbacks that plagued many of his comrades. “Can’t shake the habit of rising at zero dark thirty.”

“That’s not what has you in here every morning. Or not all of it.”

Liam stuffed his gloves into his gym bag. “How long did it take you to settle in to civilian life when you got out?”

“Didn’t settle until I started up this place.” A former Navy SEAL, Reuben had returned to Wishful five years earlier and opened the boxing gym. “But I knew exactly what I wanted when I got out. Your situation’s a little different.”

“Yeah.”

Liam had enlisted in the Marines the summer after graduating high school and never looked back. If not for his father’s unexpected death, he would’ve been a lifer. But as the eldest, with both his brothers deployed and his baby sister moved off to New Orleans, Liam couldn’t see leaving his mother alone. So he’d come home.

Never mind the fact that Molly Montgomery could’ve given any Brigadier General a run for his money.

He’d been going slowly crazy ever since.

“You ran out of projects at your mama’s, didn’t you?” A knowing smile creased Reuben’s dark face.

“Cleaned out the garage, the attic, repainted the house, replaced the gutters, and wiped out her entire honey-do list going back to everything Dad had been meanin’ to get around to for the last five years.”

“Damn, son. We gotta find you a proper job.”

“Been lookin’ since I got back, but I haven’t found anything that would be more than just killin’ time. I just can’t figure out what I want to do. Meanwhile, Mom’s decided she wants to rent out that apartment above the pharmacy, so I’m digging in to start demolition on that this week.” He checked his watch. “I probably ought to get on myself. If I can get some of the noisy work done before start of business, Mom and Riley would probably appreciate it.”

The sun had just cleared the horizon when Liam caught sight of a familiar POS Honda parked on the shoulder, with an even more familiar set of full-figured curves peeking out from beneath the lifted hood. He pulled his Dad’s pristine ’69 Mustang onto the opposite side and stepped out, appreciating the view.

Her voice floated back to him from where she leaned over the engine. “Now Jo, I know you’re tired, girl, but this is not okay. I need you to pull yourself together.”

“Who you talkin’ to, Riley?”

She jolted, banging her head on the hood. “Son of a monkey!”

Liam wisely swallowed down his amusement as she swung around, eyes shooting daggers.

“Where do you get off sneaking up on people?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “What are you even doing here?”

“On my way home from the gym. As nice a scenic stretch as this is, I didn’t figure you’d be on the side of the road having a heart-to-heart with your car at this hour just for the hell of it.”

“How would you know? I might. Jo and I have had a long and meaningful friendship.”

Given his dad had been working on her car since she got it at sixteen, Liam knew this to be true. The bigger shock was that the thing still ran at all.

He ducked under the hood himself to take a look, aware of Riley edging back. “Did you check your gas gauge?”

“I didn’t run out of gas. It’s not my battery or my spark plug wires. Your daddy taught me that much.”

He ignored the affronted tone. “Doesn’t ever hurt to start with the basics. What was she doing?”

Riley said nothing.

Glancing over his shoulder, Liam found her glaring at him, arms crossed, every inch shouting irritated female. The fact that he found it attractive rather than off-putting either made him a perverse bastard or was evidence of the incredibly long dry spell he hadn’t broken since he came home.

“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, buddy boy.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—”

“Riley, don’t argue. You can’t fix this. You said yourself, you have things to do. I’m giving you a ride.”

Liam’s brain took a sharp left turn into fantasy territory that had him handling a whole different set of curves than the ones he preferred to hug in the Mustang. His body stirred. Since his basketball shorts would do nothing to hide his reaction, he didn’t wait for Riley’s acquiescence, just strode toward his car.

Safely blocked by the driver’s side door, Liam called back to her, “You comin’?”

With an exasperated look to the heavens, she grabbed her purse and a second bag out of the passenger seat, then stalked around to the front seat of the Mustang. “You’re bossy.”

He made a U-turn back toward town. “You’re welcome.”