“Amy!” Jan yelled. “Another call for you!”

Amy put the journal away. This time when she picked up the kitchen phone and said “hello,” there was a pause but not a hang-up. “Hello?” she repeated.

The voice was raspy and male. “Tell Riley that she can run, but she can’t hide.”

Adrenaline kicked in. “Who is this?”

Nothing.

“Hello?” Amy said. “Don’t hang up—”

Click.

And then a dial tone.

Dammit. Amy served the food waiting for her and waved at Jan. “Taking five.”

“The hell you are.”

“Okay, two then.” Without waiting for approval that she wasn’t going to get, Amy grabbed the new backpack that she’d bought at the hardware store half a block down the street, then stepped out the back door on a hunch.

The hunch paid off.

Riley was sitting on the stoop, under the protection of the overhang, watching the rain come down. Amy sat next to her and set the backpack in the teen’s lap.

“What’s this?” Riley asked.

“Yours is all ripped up.”

Riley ran her fingers over the tags still attached to the pack. “So you bought me a new one?”

“Yeah.”

Riley started to shake her head and push the backpack away, but Amy put her hand on it, holding it in Riley’s lap. “It was on sale, and Anderson—the shop owner—gave me a big discount, so it’s no big deal. I want you to have it.”

Riley stared down at the backpack and then unzipped it. Inside were the incidentals Amy had put in there: flashlight, water bottle, beef jerky…

Riley swallowed hard and said nothing.

Amy looked at her for a long moment, not sure how to proceed. When she’d been in Riley’s situation, showing emotion had been the same as showing weakness, and there’d been no room for weakness and vulnerability in her life. None. Even if a person had meant well, Amy hadn’t been able to let her guard down to show any vulnerability.

Riley couldn’t either.

Amy got that, but damn, it was hard to watch, wanting so badly to reach out and help, knowing that Riley wouldn’t easily let herself be helped. “There’s a set of spare batteries in the inside pocket. Being unprepared sucks beans, and trust me, I know it all too well.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” Amy looked at her. “And you could have come inside. I’ve been hoping you’d show up. I’ve got a fully loaded club sandwich, fries, and a big fat glass of soda with your name on it.”

Riley stared at her, clearly at war between her pride and her need for sustenance. “How did you know I’d be out here?”

“Guessed.” Amy didn’t have the heart to tell Riley that kids like her were creatures of hard-learned habits. Along with Amy’s apartment, Riley had been fed here and taken care of here at the diner. Sheer need would drive her back to the same few places over and over until that changed. “Come on.” Amy stood and gestured with a jerk of her chin to the back door. “I’ve got to get back in there before Jan blows a gasket. Believe me, no one wants to see that.”

Amy sat Riley at the front counter and served her a big plate of food. Lucille and her cronies were at a table close by, cackling it up over something one of them had on her smartphone. Josh and Matt came in the front door. Both were wearing climbing clothes and looking like extremely fine male specimens. As they walked through the diner, every female in the place watched. Lucille even snapped a picture on her iPhone, which Amy figured would be on Facebook before she could serve their drinks.

Not that she was immune to the men, or their allure. Josh always looked good, and this evening, even dusty and slightly sweaty, he looked like he could walk right onto the cover of Outside magazine.

But Amy’s eyes were on Matt. Because if Josh looked good, Matt looked amazing, and way too sexy.

Why was he still so sexy to her?

He pushed his dark sunglasses to the top of his head and searched her out. There was no other word for it. His eyes roamed over the diner until he found her. He looked her over, making her every nerve ending tingle with awareness, though his gaze was more inquisitive than sexual, as if making sure she was okay, though she had no idea why she wouldn’t be.

Then he smiled, and oh, how her misbehaving ni**les loved that predatory smile. If his intense, concerned 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.”

Well if that didn’t wipe her smile right off. He thought Riley was staying with her, and he thought that because she’d told him so. By not correcting that assumption and telling him that Riley now would be back in the woods was as good as lying to him.

But she’d promised. She’d promised a teen who desperately needed to be able to trust. “Nothing to tell, really. I was feeding her.”

Matt studied her for a long moment, eyes sharp and assessing. She could feel the heat of his body, the easy strength of him, and felt the utterly inexplicable urge to reach for him. It confused her. She’d spent most of her teens and early twenties doing her best to ruin her own life. This had involved some pretty stupid and massively unsafe things, like hitchhiking across the country, accepting rides and places to stay with no concern for her own safety.

Not having family to call had only increased the sense of walking on a tightrope.

She’d gotten good at it.

She’d also gotten good at self-preservation. She’d managed to survive in spite of herself, and yet here she was at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, and all she wanted to do was turn and burrow her face in Matt’s chest and let him be the strong one.

He’d do it, too. If she made the first move, he’d absolutely wrap her in his arms and hold her close. He’d murmur something in that low, calming voice, something she might not even catch, but it wouldn’t matter. She’d know everything was going to be okay.

He’d given her that, a sense of security, and it terrified her.

Reaching for her hand, he turned her to face him. “Amy.”

With a sigh, she let him tug her in against him, and when he kissed her, his mouth was warm and knowing, tasting both familiar and right. It was like coming home. That was her only excuse for letting him deepen the kiss, for wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back until she had no air left. Finally she broke it off because this wasn’t like last time, when he’d been just getting off work and they could race to his house to get na**d like two horny idiots. She had a long shift ahead of her. “I have to get back inside before Jan kills me,” she whispered against his mouth.