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just like me. How’s Heath by the way?”

      Even though he couldn’t see her face, he figured that got her to smile. “He’s enjoying me.”

      Riley winced. “I don’t want to know that. You’re my kid sister, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re an eternal virgin.”

      “Thank God you’re wrong about that. Heath’s enjoying me a lot. Oh, and his new instructor job. Surprised?”

      Yeah, about the new job. But then maybe not. Since Heath Moore and Anna had gotten engaged, Heath had settled down some. That restless streak in him wasn’t so restless, and last Riley had spoken to Heath, he was talking about the possibility of them having a wedding as soon as Anna finished law school.

      Riley wasn’t sure how a Combat Rescue Officer went from heart-stopping, life-on-the-line missions to being a fiancé with a desk job, but it had worked for Heath. Riley was thankful for it, too, since the happiness of both his sister, and future nieces and nephews was at stake.

      “Tell Heath hello for me,” Riley said, ending the call, and he was still in the process of putting his phone away when he practically ran into the woman who was coming out of the side entrance of the What’s Old Is New antiques shop.

      Trisha.

      No brownies with her today. Nor was that a gobbling smile. Trisha gave him a cool glance instead. Still riled, apparently.

      “Going to Claire’s?” she asked, also cool-ish.

      “Huh?” Riley looked up, to see exactly where he was, and, yep, he was only about a half block from Claire’s place.

      It wasn’t intentional. It was just the way the town was laid out. All roads here didn’t lead to Rome but rather to Claire’s grandmother’s old house.

      “I’ve heard rumors,” Trisha said before he could say anything else. “I heard Claire isn’t really going to sell her grandmother’s house, that she’s too attached to it.”

      All right. So not a rumor about his alleged fatherhood. And Riley had heard that same rumor about the house, as well, from the swing shift crew before he’d dismissed them.

      “Understandable, I suppose,” Trisha went on, examining her nails. Then his crotch. “Claire loved her grandmother and was happy living there with her. I mean, after her mother dumped her and all.”

      Yes, and all was a good way to sum up the emotional shit Claire had likely gone through. Not that she’d ever shared that with him. Claire wasn’t the shit-sharing type.

      “I’m not sure how Daniel will feel about Claire staying here, though,” Trisha added. “He’d probably rather see her back at her place in San Antonio since it’s so close to where he lives.”

      It seemed like a good time for Riley to answer with “Oh.” It was a noncommittal answer, didn’t really encourage gossip, but hearing anything about Daniel did pique his interest.

      Trisha fluttered her perfectly manicured fingers toward the small shop across the street. Over the years, it’d been a bakery, a florist and a bookstore. All had come and gone, but there was no sign on the front now.

      “That’s Daniel’s office,” she supplied. “He only uses it a couple of times a month when he’s showing property in the area, but he’s been using it a lot more since Claire returned.”

      “So, they’re back together.” Riley hadn’t actually planned on saying that aloud, but he sort of had to say something when Trisha stopped talking.

      “I’m not sure what’s going on between them. What does Claire say about it?”

      “Not much.” Not to him anyway.

      “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” she asked. Another glance at his crotch.

      Normally he wouldn’t have minded glances like that, but Riley nodded since those glances and her question seemed like the start of an invitation he didn’t want to get and wasn’t in any shape to accept.

      “Yes, I’m seeing someone. Her name is Jodi.” It was an on-again, off-again relationship.

      Mostly off.

      Heck, who was he kidding?

      It wasn’t on with Jodi even when they were together. She was a friend he had sex with. A no-strings-attached kind of friend, which suited them both just fine. Not that he was totally opposed to strings and rings, but in his experience most women didn’t want to get into a long relationship with a man whose job description included deployments into direct combat.

      “Jodi’s a photographer,” Riley added just because he felt he should be adding something.

      “A photographer, like Claire?” Trisha made a weird little sound that made this seem like a big coincidence.

      Or no coincidence at all.

      Nope, they weren’t going there. Plenty of people knew he’d been hung up on Claire, but that didn’t mean he chose facsimiles of her to take to bed.

      “Jodi does combat photos for a couple of big magazines and newspapers.” The opposite of Claire, who shot wedding and engagement pictures. In fact, the only thing Jodi and Claire had in common was the general overall label of photographer. And the blond hair.

      Yeah, the green eyes, too. But other than that, they were nothing alike.

      Trisha blinked. “Oh.”

      That had a liar-liar-pants-on-fire ring to it. One that Riley didn’t like much. Of course, there wasn’t much about this conversation he did like. “I thought you’d be back in Austin by now,” he threw out there.

      “Not yet. I decided to take some time off to catch up with friends and make sure you’re doing as well as you claim. Besides, I can do most of my work from here anyway.” She moved an inch closer. “Riley, you know if you ever need my help or whatever, all you have to do is ask?”

      He did know. He also knew what that whatever entailed, too. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

      Liar-liar-pants-on-fire came in the form of a frown this time. “The offer stands.” The frown was still on her mouth when she checked her phone. “I should be going. Enjoy your visit with Claire.”

      Since Trisha didn’t move and since she appeared to be waiting for him to head in Claire’s direction, that’s what Riley did after they exchanged cheek kisses, goodbyes and one final crotch glance.

      Great day. Next time he needed to walk in the pastures. Or buy a treadmill. A ten-minute conversation with Trisha, and he’d spilled more than he should. He’d asked about Claire, and he was betting it wouldn’t take that long to hit the gossip mill. Riley was convinced that telepathy was involved, considering the staggering speed with which news got around Spring Hill.

      And that was the reason he wasn’t going to stop by Claire’s.

      If anyone saw him, and they would, it’d get back to Daniel, who’d think Riley was horning in on his woman and son.

      Riley picked up the pace, intending to limp his way past Claire’s house, but when he was still within fifty feet, he heard a sound that had him slowing down so he could see what was going on.

      Someone was crying.

      The kid.

      And not just ordinary crying—he was wailing as if he’d been hurt or something. That got Riley moving faster, and he hurried through the gate and into the front yard. Ethan was sitting on the porch of the old Craftsman-style house, and Claire had stooped down in front of him and was trying to console him.

      “Is he hurt?” Riley shouted. He stomped down the flashback. Not now. “Jingle Bells” had to get the mojo working and fast.

      Claire snapped toward him, clearly not expecting the sound of his voice or his presence in her yard. She didn’t scream this time, but Riley could tell he’d

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