Chapter 28

They headed away from the library, riding in an unexpectedly comfortable silence. Riley wondered again what the hell he was doing. He tried to examine what had happened rationally, but it seemed sanity had nothing to do with this. He thought of the old adage about an unstoppable force and realized that was exactly what had happened here. From the moment he'd laid eyes on Lia Popescue in the library, it had all been out of his hands. Five minutes with her and he had to accept that she was the one, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. How weird was that? To be as successful as he was as a detective, Riley had to be rational, sensible, logical, all those things. And none of them applied to what was happening here.
Don't fight it, he told himself. Sometimes you just have to accept what Fate brings you, especially if it was woman like Lia Popescue who rocked him to his core.
He knew, however, the conversation they would have shortly could have a dramatic effect on their situation. There was the odd coincidence of Lia being Romanian. Mike Volka had Romanian bloodlines. His situation was what had prompted Riley to start researching the country, and even delve into the ancient stories of werewolves. Was Lia somehow connected to Mike? Did she have the same shifter blood? Was all of this what led her to Calderwood and Jamie and this situation?
The stop at the market didn't take long. They always had a lot of hot and cold specialty items available. People in the neighborhood liked their food prepared fresh, so the market did a brisk business. He had no idea what Lia's taste in food was, so he left the choices up to her, pleased their tastes were so similar. They left with lasagna still hot from the oven, a fresh salad, and two bottles of white wine.
Back at the house, they carried in the food and then Riley brought Lia's suitcases into his bedroom.
"I'm making room for you in my closet and giving you a couple of drawers to use," he told her as he busied himself moving clothes around.
"I don't want to inconvenience you," she protested, a sudden note of uncertainty in her voice.
Riley dropped a pile of his clothes on the bed and pulled her into his arms. Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a kiss he hoped erased any sudden doubts that had popped up. God, he could go on kissing her forever. Her lips were full and soft and molded perfectly to his. When he slipped his tongue onto her mouth, he drank in her taste, the sweetness of it overlaid with a touch of the wild. He licked the slickness inside, brushed the tip of his tongue over her teeth before plunging it deep into her hot wetness. She met him with a hunger that equaled his, pressing herself to him so there wasn't any space between them, shoulder to thigh. Her tongue dueled with his, twined with it, and she drank from him every bit as eagerly as he did from her.
At last, he lifted his head. The look of blatant hunger and need in her eyes, and the hot flame of something else, was enough of an answer to his question, but he wanted to hear the words.
"Does that convince you there's no inconvenience here?"
"It does. Yes." The corners of her mouth tipped up in a warming smile. "I'm definitely persuaded."
"Then how about you finish stashing your things while I put dinner out. Let's get ourselves fed and watered, and then you can tell me all about how and why you came to Calderwood and what Jamie Volka has to do with it."
"Okay." She gave him a quick hug. "You deserve an answer."
Whatever she tells me is fine, he repeated silently, over and over, while he set the food out. But what if it turned out she was wolf, like Mike? How would he handle it? How did Jamie handle it? He'd always hated to ask her intimate questions about their relationship, figuring it was none of his business. Now, he wished he'd pressed her for information.
All those books on Romania? They weren't just to satisfy the sudden interest on the country Mike had sparked. He'd brushed over it when he told Lia about it earlier. He was trying to do his own research on werewolves, to understand what it was like for the man who had become as good a friend to him as his wife. It still amazed him that a man as pragmatic as he, Riley Morgan, was could believe so wholeheartedly in something so unbelievable. But he'd seen Mike shift with his own eyes, and that was hard to rationalize.
"Are we eating outside?"
Riley looked up to see Lia standing in the open sliding door to the patio.
"Yes. Is that okay? It's so nice outside, I thought you'd enjoy it."
He'd worked hard on the patio, building a lattice roof over it in his spare time and setting huge tubs with flowering crepe myrtles in two of the corners. The furniture had been chosen for comfort, with thickly padded cushions. The view across his backyard was of the acres of forested area that this part of the neighborhood backed up to. It had become his favorite place, in nice weather, to unwind and get away from the stresses and tension of his police work.
"Oh, of course." She looked around. "You're lucky to have a view like this."
"That's the truth," he agreed. "Jamie and Mike live on the next block. They knew I was looking for a place and, when this came on the market, got me onto it right away."
"You really are good friends with them," she commented.
He stopped in the midst of filling their wine glasses. "And you will be, too," he promised, "when we get everything sorted out."
He set the wine bottle on the table and pulled out a chair for her.
"I really hope so, Riley. I do."