“Me neither.” Bear was starting to drag, and Joe gave him an encouraging word. “Paper or plastic?”

Liz laughed. “Like I don’t know the right answer to that. I saw those canvas shopping bags on your kitchen table. I’ll probably even be tempted to buy a couple of my own next time I’m at the grocery store.”

“Watch out. Before you know it, you’ll be looking at hybrid cars and local produce and giving up paper towels for real ones.”

She laughed again as they strolled to the end of the street, then turned into the square, following the path to the gazebo. Its roof provided a nice respite from the rain, letting her tug down the slicker’s hood and shake out her curls. She drew a deep breath of damp, fresh air and faded cologne and knew if she stepped close enough, she could smell the same scent, warm and sexy, on his skin. The thought made her shiver.

Leaning against the railing a few safe feet away, Joe asked, “Are you cold?” His voice was husky again, and she could tell by the way he looked at her that he already knew the answer. How could she be cold when all she had to do was stretch out her hand and touch him? When one step was all it would take to bring her body into contact with his?

“A little,” she lied.

“Maybe we should keep moving.”

Maybe we should move together. What would he do if she said that aloud? Point out the reasons they shouldn’t? Pretend he misunderstood? Or agree?

Her hand was as shaky as her smile when she pulled the hood back into place. “Yeah, I guess we should.”

They went down the opposite steps, Elizabeth balking at going back into the rain. Finally she relented, but retaliated as they reached the sidewalk by showering them both with water.

They were walking alongside the iron fence that encircled River’s Edge, not talking, the sort of silence shared by two people who were comfortable with each other. She didn’t feel the need to talk-just to jump his bones-and he apparently didn’t want idle chatter either.

As they neared the side gate, an engine back down the block revved and tires squealed. Liz glanced over her shoulder at the dark SUV barreling down the street. Kids, was her first thought. All three of her brothers thought faster was better and, as teenagers, had always believed they had more control over the vehicle than was true.

Then the driver passed the last car parked in the street, jerked the wheel and drove up over the curb with a jarring bounce, heading right for them. Instinctively she reached for her gun, realized it was impossible to access and grabbed Joe’s arm instead. Thankful that the gate opened on first shove, she dragged him and the dogs through it, one swearing, the others yelping. They stumbled into the yard, landing in one tangled mass.

Liz hit the ground hard, her bag shifting underneath so that the.45 was in the middle of her back. Pain stabbed through her, hot and sharp, but she shoved herself up enough to catch a last glimpse of the fleeing truck: black, two-door, no tag, two occupants. She sank down again, aware of the throb in her back, the water pooling around her, the leash wrapped around her calves, and silently matched Joe curse for curse.

He jerked free of her and the dogs before rising to his knees and working the leashes loose. His hands on her shoulders as he helped her sit up were gentle in contrast to his voice. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Who the hell-What the hell was that?”

Gingerly she took a slow breath, deepening it until it hurt, before meeting his grim look. “My best guess is that it’s a warning.”

The question was, from whom?

Joe stood, gripping both leashes in one hand, and offered Liz a hand. He didn’t miss her wince as he pulled her to her feet. His movements jerky, he walked a few feet away, cussed, then came back. “A warning from whom? The Mulroney brothers? The feds? Or is someone else involved in this mess that I don’t know about?”

She shrugged, wincing again, and he unclenched his fist to touch her arm. Even through the cold vinyl, he could feel her heat, radiating, luring, tempting his fingers to move nearer, underneath the slicker, underneath her shirt to bare skin.

Probably bruised bare skin. “Did you land on something?”

“My purse.” Her smile was wry. “It felt like hitting a brick.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital? I can call someone.”

“No hospital. But maybe it would be better if you could get us a ride.”

“I’ll call Nat.” He moved under the spreading branches of a huge live oak before pulling out his cell phone and calling Natalia’s number. It rang five times before a canned recording came on: This is Natalia. Leave a message.

Jeez, where was she? She didn’t party, didn’t go to bars, didn’t have a social life outside of him. He was considering his next best choice-Pete Petrovski, who did have a social life-when an SUV pulled to the curb and Tommy Maricci rolled down the passenger window.

“You guys look like drowned rats. Especially that one.” He gestured toward Elizabeth, who raised her head regally and bared her teeth.

“Look, Liz,” Joe said drily. “We need someone to serve, and public service is in his job description.”

Maricci’s gaze shifted to Liz, revealing the kind of appreciation breathing men probably always showed her, though she was too preoccupied to notice, staring in the direction their would-be hit-and-runners had disappeared. Her lack of notice satisfied Joe in ways he wouldn’t consider at the moment.

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride. Even the rat and the walking furball.”

“Thanks.” Joe took a couple steps, then, when Liz didn’t move, backtracked and reached for her arm. He stopped, though, not sure where she was hurting, not wanting to cause her pain. “Hey. Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

She blinked, focused her gaze on his hand, still hovering a millimeter from her arm, then blinked again. “Yeah. I think I’ve had enough for one day.”

Neither dog needed any urging to get into the truck; Joe opened the rear door and they leaped inside. Liz eased into the backseat before reaching for the seat belt. He got it first, pulling the strap across her chest, leaning closer to fasten the buckle near her hip. She was pale, her expression unreadable. She murmured, “Thanks,” in a toneless voice, then huddled deeper in the slicker.

“What were you doing at River’s Edge?” Maricci asked as Joe settled in the passenger seat. “I thought the gates were locked up at night.”

“So did I.” Good thing that side gate had been open tonight. Getting caught between it and a two-ton vehicle would have been a sorry end to their walk in the rain. “I was looking for a dry place to use my phone.”

“The coffee shop’s sixty feet away and you choose the questionable shelter of a tree?”

Joe’s face felt too frozen to grin, but he managed anyway. “Then we would have made a mess, and I would have to clean it or Esther would bite off my head in the morning. Kind of like the mess the dogs are making back there.” To be fair, though, they hadn’t given a single shake and seemed content to sit and look out the back window.

“Yeah, you’re lucky I’m driving my own vehicle. If I’d had my department car, I would’ve left you standing. No drunks, no smokers, no food, no animals or people who smell like them in the Charger.”

“Is that police policy?”

“That’s Maricci policy.”

“So what are you doing out on a night like this if you’re not working?”

“Waiting for Ellie to get off. A couple of waitresses were no-shows this evening, so she stayed to help out.”

“That can’t be fun in her condition.”

Tommy snorted. “Even in her ‘condition,’ she could take you and me both.”

Joe glanced over his shoulder at Liz, silent and still. Was she uncomfortable with cops? Remembering when he’d said he would turn Josh over to Maricci if he showed up in town? Still shaken by their near-miss?