THE NUMBERS BLURRED AS Riley stared at the spreadsheet on her screen.
Should've done this last night, she thought with a jaw-cracking yawn.
That had been the plan, but everything about last night had been derailed by six feet two inches' worth of unwelcome testosterone. She'd been more rattled by contact with Liam than she had been by the near heart attack. There'd been no way she could settle down to work on quarterly taxes after that. Unfortunately, running on four hours' or less of sleep wasn't helping her get those taxes done either. Not even a trip on the Good Ship Caffeine was doing much to clear her bleary eyes.
The jangle of the shop bell drew her from the office. At the sight of Liam standing behind his mother in the open doorway, she almost ducked back inside.
You aren't a coward.