After Trent was gone, I squealed and hugged her. “Told youso.”
She ran her enlarged knuckle down my cheek. “Mi nieta.” Mygranddaughter.
“You think yournietacan get a free meal in your newrestaurant?”
She smiled, but then her tender expression warped as her eyes settled on a spot over myshoulder.
“Hi, Mrs. Lopez.” August was carrying two cardboard trays filled with iced beverages. “You’re looking mighty lovely thismorning.”
“August.” As she said his name—none too congenially—her gaze traveled tome.
She probably assumed I’d rendezvoused with him in the coffee house, disregarding heradvice.
“I should get this to my guys. Have a pleasant afternoon,ladies.”
Thankfully he didn’t say,see you later, Ness. If he had, Evelyn wouldn’t have believed our run-in had beenrandom.
After he got into his car, I whispered, “Before you jump to any conclusions, there’s nothing going on betweenus.”
She took a sip of her milky beverage, wrinkles deepening around hereyes.
“You believe me,right?”
“I believe you.” She offered me her arm. “Now come and walk with me. It is so beautifulout.”
I hooked my arm through hers and, chatting about her new job, we walked slowly down the street, bypassing the playground where my parents used to bring me. I told her stories of Dad, whom she’d never gotten to meet, and life in Boulder before I was uprooted. August came up in many of my stories, which earned me repeated charyglances.
“He was a big part of my life,” I said as we took a seat on a bench shaded by a glossy-leafedmagnolia.
“Did he . . . ever behaveindecently?”
Horror had me gasping, “No!Never.”
She folded one leg over the other and massaged her bad calf—the one her ex-husband had put a bulletthrough.
Just as I thought of Aidan Michaels, a yellow Hummer drove down the street. I didn’t have to squint through the tinted window at the boy sitting behind the wheel to grasp whom the car belonged to: Alex Morgan. Another detestableCreek.
A violent desire to slash his tires, and his chest while I was at it, animated me. I balled my fingers intofists.
As though he sensed my glare, Alex turned his face toward me. He had the audacity to toss me a wink before taking off, tiresscreeching.
“Who was that,querida?”
Evelyn’s voice zapped me out of my violent musings. “ACreek.”
She wrapped her fingers around my fists, easing my hands open. “And what has he done to make you abhor him so? Besides being aCreek.”
“He’s the reason Everest isdead.”
A long beat of silence passed betweenus.
Then, “Have many Creeks remained inBoulder?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because of the—” I smacked my lips shut. Had I really been about to tell her about the duel? Sheabsolutelycouldn’t know about it. She’d kidnap me and fly me out of Colorado. “Because of the inn. Because Aidan bought it, and Aidan’s a Creek. So they feel at homehere.”
