At Last

once-over had done things to her, his smile just about undid her from the inside out.

Then she realized Lucille had left her table and was talking to Riley, though the teen was backing away, shaking her head adamantly. Amy moved close enough in time to hear Lucille say “all the newcomers do it, honey. And putting you up on Facebook will help you make friends.”

Riley looked horrified and not a little panic-stricken. Amy stepped between Lucille and the escaping Riley. “No Facebook pictures of her.”

“She says she’s eighteen,” Lucille said. “And she looks lonely. I thought I could help-”

“You can help by not putting any information about her on Facebook at all,” Amy said firmly.

At Amy’s serious tone, Lucille went quiet for a moment, studying Riley’s sullen face. “I understand,” Lucille finally said, quite gently. “If you need anything…”

“I’m fine,” Riley said, and turned and fled for the door.

Amy headed after her. “Riley-Hey, wait up.”

“Thanks for the food, but I’ve got to go.”

“Just a second.” She grabbed Riley’s wrist. “I wanted to tell you-that guy called here again.”

Riley went still for a beat and then turned abruptly toward the door again, moving much faster now.

Amy followed her outside and stood still on the top step for a beat while her eyes adjusted from the bright diner to the dark, moonless night. “Riley?”

Footsteps. Amy ran after them, barely catching up with Riley just as she was leaving the lot. Backpack slung over her shoulder, she was on the street, thumb out.

“No way,” Amy said. “No way am I letting you hitchhike.”

“This is Lucky Harbor, right? Nothing bad ever happens in Lucky Harbor.”

Amy shook her head. “Something bad is happening to you, and if you’d just tell me about it, I could help.”

Riley turned away and waggled her thumb at the cars going by.

“Dammit, Riley. Don’t do this.”

“Sorry, but I can do whatever I want.”

“Where are you going?” Amy asked. “Tell me that much, at least.”

Riley waggled her thumb at a passing truck, which slowed.

Crap. Jan was going to kill Amy for walking out on a full diner, but Amy couldn’t let Riley go, not like this. “Stay at my place again tonight,” she said quickly, watching the truck’s blinker come on.

Riley shook her head. Some of her color had come back but not much. She was clearly freaked out, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out it had been the phone call. “It’s time for me to move on.”

She was going to leave Lucky Harbor. Afraid Riley would get into the truck and never be seen again, Amy shook her head. “No. Please stay.”

The truck had pulled over, and the driver honked. Riley would have jumped right into it, but Amy grabbed her. “You don’t have to do this, you know you don’t. Stay. You’ve got a job here if you want it, and people who care.”

The truck driver honked again, and Amy flipped him off. The driver rolled down his window and blasted them with a litany of foul oaths before hitting the gas, choking them with dust.

Riley looked impressed. “Wow, you flipped that guy off.”

“Stay.”

Riley shook her head, baffled. “Why do you even care?”

Because once upon a time Amy had been in trouble, and there’d been no one to care. Because she recognized the helplessness in Riley’s eyes. “Maybe I need to see something good happen to someone like us. Stay, Riley. Stay and say you’ll think about the job.”

Riley stared at her for a long beat. “I’ll think about the job.”

Relief filled Amy, and she relaxed a margin. “Come on. You can come back inside and wait for me to get off work.”

The teen paused and then shook her head. “I still can’t stay with you.”

“Why?”

Riley’s mouth tightened. Clearly, she had her reasons, good reasons, and just as clearly she wasn’t going to say what those reasons were. Amy had a terrible suspicion that Riley was in some way trying to protect Amy by not staying-which didn’t make her feel any better. “Where will you sleep?”

Riley hesitated.

“Riley.”

“You have to promise not to tell.”

Oh, boy. Nothing good ever started with that sentence. How could she make such a serious promise like that when Matt would want to know what was going on? “Listen-”

“Promise.”

Riley’s desperation was palpable, and Amy looked into her eyes and saw fear mixed in with a desperate need to believe in someone. Damn. That someone was going to be her. “I promise,” Amy said softly. “Riley, I promise you.”

“Not a single soul.”

Oh, how she hated to make such a promise, especially one she was already regretting, but the look on Riley’s face made her do it. “Not a single soul. I promise.”

And still Riley hesitated. “I’m going back to the forest.”

“Riley.” Amy shook her head. “You know Matt asked you not to camp illegally.”

“He won’t know.”

“He’ll ask,” Amy said.

“Then tell him I’m still with you.”

Oh, no. That was a very bad idea. “Riley-”

“You promised.”

Behind them, the door to the diner opened, and the man himself stepped out. How did he do that? Did he sense when she was thinking about him? Amy met his gaze and then turned back to Riley to tell her that they really needed another plan. But Riley was gone.

Matt strode across the lot. Amy had no idea what was on his mind, though she knew what was on hers. Worry for Riley. Anxiety that she’d just agreed to lie to the one man who’d made her feel something since… well, ever. And as always, that conflicting sense of free falling and yet being safe, simply because he was near.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

“And Riley?”

She nodded again and hoped that covered everything he wanted to know. But she should have known better. Matt wasn’t the sort of man she could brush off or fool with a smile. He might be laid-back and easygoing, but he was sharp as a tack.

“Problem?” he asked.

She shook her head no while thinking yes. Big problem. Many problems. There was a secret between them, something that wouldn’t have bothered her in the past but was bothering her greatly now. She had no idea what she was doing with him, but the anxiety ratcheted up a notch now. “I’m just really bad with morning-after discussions,” she said. “Even though technically, this is an afternoon after. Or evening after. Or-”

“Maybe you’d be less bad at them if you didn’t run off.”

Yeah, maybe. Probably. But running off was what she did.

“Okay,” he said with a shake of his head, as if he wasn’t sure how they’d gotten on this track. “Let’s start this conversation over. You really okay? And I mean that as a general how-are-you question.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m really okay. You?”

“Better than okay.”

She rolled her eyes, but felt a smile threaten. How he did that, coaxed the fun out of her when she’d been fresh out of fun, was a big mystery.

He nudged his chin toward where Riley had vanished. “Tell me about Riley.”