Another shrug. "We need to get to your store."
Elizabeth let it go. She'd also learned that when people didn't want to talk about their pain, they didn't want to talk about their pain.
She started for the pickup, but Ronan shook his head. "Marquez's guys will know your truck. We take my bike."
"What does it matter? They'll know I'm at the store when I get there."
Ronan gave her a look of great patience. "It matters when they're scanning the streets for your truck, and it matters when I need to get you away as fast as I can."
Elizabeth conceded, not so much because she agreed but because she wanted a ride on that bike. Her skin tingled with glee as she headed for it. She'd owned a Harley once upon a time, until some ass**le stole it, and she'd never seen it again.
The bike was huge, fitting its large owner. An older model, she saw, but lovingly kept. Ronan handed her a spare helmet. Elizabeth fastened it, then mounted behind him.
The motor throbbed, power between her legs. Elizabeth hung onto Ronan, the man as powerful as the bike, and suppressed a whoop as Ronan tore out of the driveway and onto the street.
*** *** ***
Elizabeth let herself put away her worries to enjoy the ride to the shop. Ronan took it easy, but she felt the bike's energy, its need to open up. What heaven it would be to get this thing out on an empty highway and really let it go.
She felt Ronan's strength as he leaned into the turns, the fluidity of his muscles as he moved with the bike. He knew how to ride, knew how to coax the machine to do what he wanted without fighting it.
"Sweet ride!" she yelled.
The journey ended too soon, Ronan pulling up in the alley behind her store.
All seemed quiet. Ronan let her dismount first and took the helmet from her, but told her to wait for him to scout. "If I tell you to, you get on this bike and go," Ronan said. "I can tell you know how to ride, right?"
Elizabeth nodded. She knew, all right, though this motorcycle would be a challenge, as large as it was.
"Good," Ronan said. "Let me go check it out."
Truth to tell, Elizabeth felt a lot better with Ronan there. If she'd come alone in her pickup this morning, she'd be lingering, debating whether to go inside, and possibly losing the debate. In spite of her brave talk about staying open no matter what, she was afraid.
Watching Ronan walk away wasn't bad, either. He was a big man, but trim, not fat. His ass in those tight jeans was very nice, and the black T-shirt stretching across his shoulders was nice too.
Ronan unlocked the back door of her store and stepped inside. Elizabeth tensed, hands clenching around the motorcycle helmet until she swore she'd dent the plastic. When Ronan came back outside after about fifteen minutes, her entire body relaxed, and she flexed her sore fingers.
"Everything's fine," he said. "No one's in there, the lock hasn't been forced, and I didn't find any booby traps."
"Booby traps?" Elizabeth said, eyes going wide.
"These guys aren't going to fight fair. I checked for tripwires and explosive devices, but I'm pretty sure it's clean."
"Pretty sure?"
Ronan actually smiled. "I'll keep looking. Like I said, no one forced the locks or any windows, so I don't think anyone's been inside."
Elizabeth blew out her breath. "All right. Let's go in."
Ronan parked the bike right outside the back door and took the helmets inside with him. The alley door led straight into her office, which was still a mess from the fight the night before. The door to the store hung from its hinges, and the doorframe had splintered where Ronan's big body hadn't quite fit through it.
"I'll get Spike and Ellison over here to fix that," Ronan said. "They're good carpenters."
"I can't pay them much. I only have so much set aside for repairs."
"No paying. I broke the door, I'll get it fixed. Gratis."
Elizabeth rose from picking up papers from the floor. "You mean your friends will come over and replace a door and drywall for free?"
"Sure. We help each other out. Besides, Liam likes you, and if Liam says they do it on the house, they do it on the house."
Elizabeth thought of Liam Morrissey's warm blue eyes and the pressure of his hands when he'd clasped hers. "Are you sure Liam likes me? You were arrested for helping me."
"If Liam didn't like you, you'd know. Trust me."
Yes, she believed that. He'd beamed a charming smile on one and all, but Elizabeth had sensed his controlled power, the dangerous thing beneath his surface.
Elizabeth went through the store, righting things, replacing the displays that had been knocked over. At least Marquez hadn't gotten into the safe. He'd been right that Elizabeth hadn't made her deposit--she'd planned to do it last night, and the safe held several thousand dollars. The police had kept Marquez's shoulder bag full of cash and given her a receipt for a hundred and seventy-eight dollars.
Elizabeth picked up the torn bits of a huge T-shirt and held the strips up before her eyes. Ronan's bear body had ripped its way right out of the shirt. The strength the torn fabric represented made her shiver. She stared at the strips for a time then, for some reason, she rubbed them against her cheek.
A large hand took them away from her. "Throw those out. I trashed that shirt. And I owe you for the other one."
Elizabeth flushed and tossed the pieces of T-shirt into the wastebasket. "No, no. It's on me. You saved my life and my store. Least I can do. Oh, and, you said you were buying a birthday present last night. For who?"
"Rebecca. Got anything for a horny she-bear who doesn't want to be reminded she's coming up on her hundredth birthday?"
Elizabeth hid her astonishment at the hundredth part. "I'll find her something cute. Also on me. You all have been so nice to me."
Ronan nodded, as though it was no big deal, and turned away to answer his cell phone. He continued to make calls after that, she noticed as she kept cleaning.
By the time shoppers had started migrating to the area, and Elizabeth reached to turn on her neon "OPEN" sign--custom-made, with a girl with long legs sitting on the curved end of the N--Ronan was off the phone and all was ready.
"The trackers are coming," he said. "Probably they're already here."
"Tell one of them to bring me my phone. If Liam wants it, he can have it, but I need the numbers stored inside."
Ronan rumbled a laugh. "He's done playing. He's sending it."
The cell phone was returned to her via a tall, broad-shouldered Shifter with a shaved head, deep brown eyes, and body art all over him. He gave her a predatory smile as he handed over the phone.