Riley narrowed her bright violet eyes, so like her mother’s. “Right. What’s her name?”
“Whose name?”
“The girl who’s got your boxers in a twist.”
He laughed. “No twisting involved. I went commando tonight.”
“Ew. TMI.” Riley scrunched up her nose, grabbed a tray, and headed toward the lounge.
Patrick pulled another pint—Killian’s, this time—and slid it down the bar, then picked up some tips and gathered empty mugs. He looked to the lounge where Riley was handling a group of college-age kids who’d laid claim to the pool table, currently working on a best of seven series, his innate protective instincts floating close to the surface.
Not that he had to. Riley could take care of herself.
And him? He was checking the door every other minute.
He could tell himself that he wasn’t looking for the woman from the coffee shop, but he tried not to lie to himself when he could help it.
It was silly, really. There was no reason to believe she would suddenly appear, even though most out-of-towners did find their way here. Jake’s Irish Pub had a way of drawing people in.
But apparently, not her.
Chances were she’d just been passing through and was already long gone.
A subtle but surprising wave of disappointment washed over him at the thought.
Which was also ridiculous.
He didn't know her name. Didn't know what she'd been doing in Pine Ridge on a weekday afternoon, alone, walking into a café with the careful eyes of someone thoroughly reading a room.
Yeah, he’d caught that. He’d seen his dad and uncles—former Navy SEALs—do it every time they entered a room.
She’d done the same thing. He'd thought nothing of it at the time, but it was there now, living rent-free in his mind. The question was, why? Did she have training, or had something happened to make her cautious?
“Whoever the woman you’re not thinking about is,” Riley said, returning with more orders and a tray of empty mugs, “I need to meet her. You’ve been watching the door all night.”
He said nothing, just smiled and shook his head. His cousin knew him too well. Denying it would only substantiate her theory under theprotest too muchrule.
The door opened and his head snapped up. Two regulars entered, taking their usual stools, placing their usual orders. They started talking about the homecoming game win and the state university’s chances of getting a good bowl bid.
“Oh, yeah. I really need to meet her,” Riley tossed over her shoulder with a smirk as she walked away.
So did he.
He pulled a mug out of the dishwasher and polished it harder than necessary.
3
SHADOW
MORGAN
Morgan wentfrom deep sleep to instant alertness.
Her eyes popped open. The room was dark and silent except for one thing—the heavy breathing that wasn’t her own.
She lay completely still and ran through her options. Her bag was across the room, which meant nothing useful was within reach. The door was partially open—she was certain she'd closed it. She turned her head slowly toward the sound.
Massive jowls materialized out of the dark approximately six inches from her face. A cold, wet nose burrowed under the quilt and sniffed at her neck.