LITMIR.BIZ

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saw blasted again, forcing Aaron to talk above it. “Since when did you two become friends? When she was here before, you barely knew her.”

      Riley’s blade bit through the two-by-four and the end dropped onto the scrap heap. “I knew her,” he said as the sudden silence rang in their ears. “I’ve hung out with Cheyenne for years.”

      That didn’t mean he’d spared a glance—or a thought—for Presley. “So that’s it? You’re just doing a good deed?” Aaron met his gaze. “Or are you making some sort of play for her?”

      Riley turned around to confront him, and the goggles came off again. “You’re acting a little...territorial, Aaron. Which I didn’t expect. According to Cheyenne, whatever you and Presley had when she lived here before is over. Was Chey wrong about that? Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?”

      Aaron couldn’t say there was. Presley had told him, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn’t interested in getting involved with him again. But he didn’t see why that meant they couldn’t be friends. She’d needed his friendship once. “I’m sure Cheyenne would love nothing more than to see her sister with such an upstanding guy. Is that what this is about? Is she behind it?”

      Riley scowled. “Aaron, there’s never been any trouble between us, so why are you trying to start it now? Chey’s not pushing me at Presley.”

      “She just happened to catch your eye at the book signing last night?”

      “Does it matter? I thought you’d moved on. If I remember right, I’ve heard your name linked with Noelle Arnold’s.”

      Aaron had bumped into Noelle at Sexy Sadie’s once or twice and taken her home, but only because she’d let him know she wanted to sleep with him, and he’d had nothing better to do. He didn’t particularly care for her. He’d never been in love with Presley, either, but he liked her a lot more than Noelle. At least Presley was real, down-to-earth. Noelle was the most shallow, vain creature he’d ever met.

      “Noelle and I are friends, that’s all.”

      Riley picked up another piece of wood and began to examine it. “For your sake, I’m glad to hear that.”

      Without a doubt, Noelle was the most hated person in town. That alone made Aaron feel sorry for her. But she didn’t seem to understand what she was doing to evoke that reaction, so there was nothing he could do to help her.

      Still, he didn’t like Riley acting so superior. But maybe he had a right. He’d never screwed up the way Aaron had, that was for damn sure. “I don’t need you to warn me off. I’ll choose my own women.”

      “Good. Enjoy Noelle all you want, because you aren’t what Presley wants anymore.”

      “And you are?” he snapped.

      Riley didn’t get the chance to respond. A female voice, shocked and slightly outraged, interrupted.

      “Aaron...what are you doing here?”

      He and Riley had been so focused on each other that they hadn’t seen Presley walk in. She came toward them, clutching the hand of her son, who was doing his best to keep up. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but going natural was a great look on her. With smooth, café-au-lait skin, wide brown eyes and a short, choppy haircut, she reminded him of Halle Berry.

      He wasn’t happy that she’d probably heard what they’d said. But the only thing he could do was shrug and act as though it didn’t matter. Indifference could cover almost any uncomfortable situation—because it wasn’t uncomfortable if you didn’t care.

      “I dropped by to see how the improvements are going,” he said.

      Their eyes met. He wondered if she could tell that he wasn’t as emotionally detached as he was pretending to be. But she looked away before he could guess at her thoughts. “They’re going fine.”

      Aaron made a point of gazing around. “Seems to me you could use some help.”

      “I’ve got it.” Riley scowled at him. He no longer held a piece of lumber or any tools. He was keeping his hands free. Just in case?

      “You’ve got the receptionist area under control,” Aaron said. “But that leaves the painting. If I help, it’ll go that much faster. I’ll run over to the paint store. What color should I get?”

      Presley’s lips parted in surprise. “It’s Saturday. Don’t you have to work at the shop?”

      “Not till Monday.” So much for his appointment with the real estate agent in Reno, but he could cancel. He’d already seen about all there was to see. The only thing left was to decide on a location.

      “You don’t want to spend your time off doing...this,” she said.

      Was it really so inconceivable that he’d make that kind of sacrifice?

      Part of him felt he should get the hell out of there. He knew when he wasn’t wanted. But the other part refused to let her toss him aside so easily. He hadn’t meant to hurt her two years ago. Who’d been better to her? Certainly not Riley. Cheyenne’s friends had pretty much ignored Presley’s existence. She could forgive him that one night when he couldn’t face her pain without having to swim through a whole sea of his own, couldn’t she?

      “Sure, why not?” he said. If she wanted to get rid of him, she’d have to tell him to go. But he didn’t think she’d do that. Her heart was too soft. And if Riley tried to force the issue, he’d be sorry he’d ever stuck his nose in Presley’s business....

      Fortunately, Riley didn’t react the way Aaron expected. A smile suddenly curved his lips. “Yeah, why not?” he said. “Everything will go faster with an extra pair of hands.”

      Presley seemed startled by his capitulation. “But... I don’t have the money to pay either of you! And I don’t want to feel I’m taking advantage. I can do this on my own. Really. I’d rather do it on my own.”

      She’d grown cautious, protective, since she’d left Whiskey Creek, which made Aaron feel even guiltier for turning his back on her that long-ago night.

      “There’s no need to do it yourself.” Riley’s smile widened. “We’re happy to help—aren’t we, Aaron?”

      Riley was making it clear that he didn’t consider Aaron a threat. You aren’t what Presley wants anymore, he’d said. Was he cocky enough to think he could prove it?

      Far be it from Aaron to resist a challenge. “Absolutely,” he said. “We’d never let you do this alone.”

      Presley might’ve continued to argue, but Wyatt was trying to escape so he could play in the sawdust and wood scraps.

      “You could get hurt,” she murmured as she struggled to restrain him. She looked tired. It was tempting to pick up the baby for her, but she’d been acting so skittish around him that he didn’t dare, not in front of Riley.

      “Why don’t you take him home and let him play where it’s safe?” Aaron suggested. “We’ve got this.”

      She glanced from him to Riley and back again. “But...”

      “What will you be able to accomplish with him here?” Riley asked, throwing his support behind Aaron’s suggestion.

      “I could put him in his playpen,” she began.

      “Where he’d only last a short time,” Aaron said.

      She sighed. “That’s true, but...”

      “Go!” Aaron said.

      Riley gestured for her to take off, too.

      “I’ll do what I can to make it up to both of you,” she told them. Then, in spite of a crying and wiggling child, she somehow managed to pull a paint swatch and some cash from her purse. “Here’s the shade I picked out. If this isn’t enough money to cover

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