Cam did have the perfect place for them to hide.

A place few people, if anyone, would suspect.

Isabel, Cam’s grandmother, smiled at him. “It’s just so good to see your face again.”

Alex and Cam were sitting in Isabel’s small apartment in Casa Mañana, the assisted living facility where she lived.

Cam had convinced him it was the best place for them to go. After throwing together a quick bag, they’d hurried to her car and Cam had phoned the front desk of the facility to confirm their guest apartment was available. It felt like the first piece of good news in a long string of monumentally shitty developments.

“Why is there an apartment?” he’d asked as they weaved their way through town.

Cam took side streets to the facility, purposefully choosing roads with little traffic so they could see if they were being followed. She’d given Alex a baseball cap and sunglasses, and had donned a similar disguise for herself. They both knew it was a pretty lame attempt at hiding their identity, especially since Marco and his buddy already knew what kind of car she drove, but it felt better than doing nothing.

“They have it available for guests,” she told him. “A lot of residents have family who come to visit from out of town. The apartment is available on a first come, first serve basis to whoever needs it. You just have to know someone in the building.”

Yes, Alex thought. This was indeed the first bit of good luck he’d had since the whole shit storm had developed.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Having Cam on his side felt like good luck, too. As did the fact that Marco hadn’t been successful in knocking him off.

Or hurting Cam.

That thought still seized up his insides, even now when they were sitting safely inside her grandmother’s apartment.

He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to Cam.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to, my dear,” Isabel said from her recliner.

Alex adjusted himself on the love seat. He and Cam were sitting side by side, squeezed together so tight that they were practically in each other’s laps.

He didn’t mind. Not in the least.

He tried to focus on her grandmother’s question instead of the close proximity of Cam’s body.

“A little bit of this and a little bit of that.” He knew he was being evasive, but it wasn’t as if he could just volunteer how he’d spent the last twelve years of his life.

“You have a good job?” she asked.

Cam’s leg pressed into Alex’s.

He didn’t need the warning.

“Pretty good,” he said. “It involves a lot of research.”

“Research?” Isabel’s gray eyebrows lifted. “You a scientist?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Just a…a researcher.” It wasn’t a total lie. His job did involve a lot of research. And hands-on experience. And navigating through gray areas of the law.

Thankfully, she seemed satisfied with his answer.

“Are you hungry, Grandma?” Cam asked. Alex knew exactly what she was doing: redirecting. “I think I saw cookies down in the dining room.”

The old woman wrinkled her nose. “Probably sugar cookies. Those diabetic ones that taste like air.”

“I thought I saw chocolate chip.”

“Fake chocolate chip,” Isabel clarified. “No one knows how to bake around here. Bake or cook.”

Alex looked down at his lap so he could hide his smile. Isabel was still her old, feisty self. She’d aged a little—her hair had gone almost completely gray, and more wrinkles now creased her face—but her dark eyes still flashed when she talked, and her accent still got heavier as her words and emotions heated up.

Just like he remembered.

He glanced around the apartment. It was essentially one large room that had been carved up into different areas by cleverly placing furniture. There was the living area, where they were seated now, which consisted of a recliner and small love seat and a console with a TV on top. To their right was a kitchen area, separated from the living room by a tall counter. It had just enough space for a refrigerator, sink, and stove along one wall and a small dinette set along the other. A wall of bookshelves separated the living room from Isabel’s bedroom. This was sparsely furnished, as well, with a hospital bed, a dresser and a door that Alex presumed led to a closet. The only other door in the apartment was closed, but he was sure the bathroom was behind it.

And everywhere, there were personal touches. The cross hanging on the wall, the prints of Mary and Jesus hanging on either side. A rosary sitting on the TV console. A small tapestry that Alex thought he remembered seeing at Cam’s house years ago. There were a few photographs, too, tucked behind the glass of cheap plastic frames. Cam graduating from college. The police academy. Miguel graduating from college and then med school. Alex tried not to stare at them but it was hard. They were glimpses of a past he wasn’t part of, and he yearned to drink in all the details, to sear them into his memory so he would remember just how Cam had looked on those special days.

“Where are you living now?” Isabel asked him.

He tore his gaze away from the photos.

“You still in the old neighborhood?”

“No, I haven’t lived there in years,” he said. “I’m farther north now. Sort of near St. Cloud.” He wasn’t about to volunteer the actual city he lived in. No need to take any chances sharing that kind of information.

“And what about a family?” She smiled at him, revealing what looked like a set of brand new dentures. “You have any little Alejandros running around?”

He felt Cam shift next to him.

“No,” he said.

Her grandmother frowned. “No?” She clucked her tongue. “Just like Camila here. I keep telling her it’s time to have babies. She says no.”

Alex glanced at Cam. Her cheeks were red, and she quickly downed a sip of water from the glass she was holding.

“No babies,” Alex told her. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh?” Isabel perked up. The afghan that was draped across her lap slipped a little. “You have a wife?”

Again, Cam stiffened.

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No.” Alex smiled. “My…research has kept me busy.”

Isabel tsked again. “Life comes at you hard and fast, mi hijo. You’ll never regret not working enough. Pero una familia? You might regret not having one.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s something I plan to work on. Once things slow down, I mean.”

The old woman closed her eyes, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

Alex reached for his own glass of water and drained half of it in one long gulp.

Now that the grilling appeared to be over, he relaxed a little.

Actually, he relaxed more than a little

There had been no indication that they’d been followed from Cam’s. He’d scanned the roads the entire way across town, keeping his eyes open for the Chevy Caprice or any other vehicle that might be suspicious. But there was none.

Coming into the facility, he’d sized up every person he saw, keeping a catalog of physical traits and doing his best to assess the threat level.

There’d been none.

Maybe, just maybe, he was in the clear for a bit. Maybe this would be the place where he could regroup and come up with a plan. Yes, Marco and his buddy were still out there, and they’d found him in Aspen Falls, but they didn’t know where he was right this moment. And if Cam stayed with him, they wouldn’t be able to get to her, either.

He relaxed back into the love seat, rolling his shoulders as he did so. The tension uncoiled from his muscles, and when he took a breath, it felt like his lungs were finally able to take in the proper amount of air.

“She fell asleep,” Cam whispered.

Alex looked at Isabel. Her head was now lolled forward, her mouth slightly ajar. The afghan had slipped even farther, and Cam stood up so she could readjust it. She brushed a loose strand of hair off Isabel’s face.

His heart constricted as he watched the tender moment between granddaughter and grandmother. No relationship like this existed for him. There was no one in his life he was close to—no family member to visit, to take care of. Beverly and Doug Kowalski were the closest he had to ‘family,’ and even then, he had to keep them at a distance.

He had to keep everyone at a distance.

Cam sat back down, hugging the corner of the love seat so their legs were no longer touching. He thought about spreading his own legs a little wider, forcing the contact. In some other moment, that type of action might be driven by desire, by physical attraction, but not right now.

Right now he just wanted the human connection he’d lived without for so long.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice still low.

“Me?” He looked at her, wondering if she could somehow intuit what was going on in his head. “I’m fine.”

“Your jaw is okay?”

He nodded. He’d told her in detail what had happened with Marco and his friend on the drive over to her grandmother’s.

“We forgot the pain meds.” Her expression clouded. “I can run back and get them…”

“I’ve told you, I don’t need them.”

“But your ribs.” Her brow furrowed with concern. “And now this…”

His heart somersaulted. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had shown any concern for him and his well-being.

Actually, he could.

It was Cam.

Twelve years ago.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned her attention back to her grandmother. “I don’t know how long I should let her sleep,” she murmured.

Alex glanced at Isabel. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.

“It’s two o’clock,” Cam said.

“She’s probably tired,” Alex said. “Let her sleep.”

Cam looked at him. “What should we do, then?”

He knew what he should do. He should come up with a damn plan for what he should do next. Brainstorm until his head hurt, put every option on the table, no matter how ridiculous.

But there was something about sitting in Isabel’s apartment with Cam next to him that was doing weird things to him. Being there was the first taste of normal he’d had in a long time—maybe ever, if he really thought about it.

And he was loath to give that up.

Because he didn’t know if he’d ever experience that again.

He smiled. “We’ll sit with her until she wakes up.”

“That might have been the worst meal I’ve ever eaten,” Isabel said a few hours later.

They were walking back to Isabel’s apartment after eating dinner in the dining hall.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Cam said as she pushed the apartment door open.

Isabel shuffled through and immediately lowered herself into her recliner. She looked a little out of breath from the short walk to the dining room, and Alex shot a concerned look in her direction. Was she not feeling well? Or was this just one of those things that happened when people aged?

He didn’t know, but it made him uncomfortable seeing her this way. He didn’t want any reminders that she was aging, or that her health might be failing. Not now. Not after he’d reconnected with this part of his past. The good part. The part he’d missed.

Locking that part of his life away had allowed him to sort of freeze time. In his memory, he could picture Isabel and the rest of Cam’s family just as they’d been all those years ago. Some days, he would allow himself to conjure up daydreams, of current existences for all of them. Cam and Miguel had been relatively easy; he’d known what career paths they’d chosen, so at least those big details were available. Seeing the photos in Isabel’s apartment had confirmed that his perception of their futures hadn’t been too far off from the reality.

But Cam’s grandma? He’d pictured her the same as she’d been when he first met her back when he was in high school. Working all day long and then coming home and whipping up meals with whatever food she had on hand. Sure, some days they might just have tortillas and beans. But it always smelled good, and tasted even better. And she’d always done it with a smile on her face. Always reminded those kids to be grateful for what they had.

He’d never taken her words to heart back then. But as he’d gotten older and as he’d become increasingly isolated in his job, those words were often on whispered repeat in the back of his mind.

“Jell-O salad,” Isabel said with a huff. “Who thinks that stuff is good? And who thinks it’s a salad?”

Alex glanced at Cam. She was biting back a smile, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the twinkle in her eye. He could tell she was relaxed, and her features were softer because of it. She looked like a painting, one of those ones in the art museums with the rich color and the soft lighting.

They sat in Isabel’s apartment for a while after the meal, with the elderly woman parked back in her recliner and Alex and Cam seated next to each other on the love seat. Isabel turned the television on, tuning in to one of the telenovelas on Univision, and Alex was instantly transported yet again, to evenings spent at Cam’s house, when Isabel would sink into the couch, prop her feet up, and watch a few quick minutes of her favorite soap opera before herding him out of the house and Cam off to bed. He stared at the screen, noticing that some of the actors and actresses from years ago were still on the show.

“So in love,” Isabel said dreamily. Her eyes were on the couple onscreen, locked in a passionate embrace. Her gaze drifted to Alex and then Cam. “How about you two?”

“What?” Cam’s voice was sharp.

Isabel waved a hand toward them. “Alex answered some of my questions but not all. What brings you to Aspen Falls? And back into my granddaughter’s life?”

Alex coughed and Cam’s cheeks turned crimson. “Grandma… he’s just visiting, that’s all. Just an old friend.”

The old woman’s eyes sparked. “An old friend? The old friend who broke your heart when you were seventeen?”

It was Alex’s turn to blush.

“We can be friends,” Cam said. “That was the past.”

Isabel chuckled. “Is that so? I know you, mi amor. You hold grudges.”

Alex bit his lip to keep from laughing, wincing when his teeth grazed the scab that had formed.

“I do not,” Cam retorted.

Isabel just smiled knowingly. “You want to keep your secrets? Fine. I’ll get them out of you sooner or later.”

Alex glanced at Cam. He could tell she was torn between correcting her grandmother’s assumptions and just letting it go so they could end the conversation. He had no idea which option she would choose.

But Isabel lost interest in the topic, her attention returning to the television show. Alex felt Cam relax next to him. She leaned back against the cushions and expelled a breath, and he knew she was glad it hadn’t turned into a full-blown interrogation.

He wasn’t nearly as glad. He kind of wanted to see how she explained his presence. And he kind of wanted to see her squirm, even just a little, at her grandmother’s shrewd observations.

None of that happened, though, and eventually he got sucked into the storyline playing out on the small screen.

“Grandma,” Cam said gently, about an hour later.

The woman’s eyes fluttered open. She’d fallen asleep under her afghan. The soap opera had ended and Cam had switched the channel, tuning in to a news show instead. Alex hadn’t paid much attention to what the pundits were talking about; he’d concentrated instead on Cam’s presence next to him on the couch.

“You should get to bed,” Cam told her.

Isabel blinked awake. “Nonsense,” she said with a yawn. “It’s early.”

“It’s not that early,” Cam told her. “And you’ve been asleep for a while now.”

“But Marta isn’t home yet,” Isabel said, frowning. She glanced around the room. “She isn’t, is she?”

Alex looked at Cam.

Her mouth was suddenly pinched tight. “Mom isn’t coming,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

Isabel’s frown deepened. “But it’s late. She isn’t home yet.”

“Mom has her own home,” Cam said. She got up from the love seat. “I’ll call for the night aide so she can help you get ready for bed.”

Isabel struggled to her feet. “I don’t need help.”

“I know you don’t.” Cam’s voice was calm, soothing. “She just likes to come in and make sure you’ve taken all your pills. You know that.”

Isabel shuffled toward the sleeping area of her apartment. “I know what pills to take. I remember.”

Cam mumbled something under her breath.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked, keeping his own voice low.

Cam started to say something, then stopped. She nodded, then turned back to Isabel. “I’ll stop by the desk and let them know to send the night aide in.” She gathered her bag and keys and hurried over to say good night to her grandmother before she disappeared into the bathroom.

They walked down the hall in silence.

“She has memory issues?” Alex asked.

Cam didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “It just started happening recently. She thinks Mom is here, or is supposed to be here.”

“What do the doctors say?”

“Nothing,” Cam said bluntly. “Medicare doesn’t exactly allow you to dig deep, if you know what I mean.”

Alex took her word for it.

“What does Miguel say?”

Cam shrugged. “Nothing yet. Like I said, it’s all pretty new. He’ll see for himself at Thanksgiving.”

He wanted to ask more but a voice in his head reminded him it wasn’t his place. This wasn’t his family. Cam didn’t owe him answers.

Especially since they both knew he wouldn’t be sticking around.

They stopped by the desk and, after letting the night nurse know Isabel would need someone to stop in her room, Cam got the key to the guest apartment. It was an upstairs unit, down a long hallway, just to the right of a large room that looked like it was used for group activities.

Cam unlocked the door and flicked on the light.

The apartment was almost identical to Isabel’s; at least the layout. The furniture wasn’t nearly as homey, but there was a couch and a television, and some tasteful landscape prints hung on the walls in place of Isabel’s religious art. A lone queen-sized bed was tucked behind the bookcase unit, draped in a floral quilt that looked like it had been lifted directly from a chain hotel.

Cam dropped her bag on the couch and glanced around the room, her eyebrows pinching together as she completed her assessment.

“What?” Alex asked. He could tell something was wrong.

“There’s only one bed.”

“Yes.” It was one of the first things he’d noticed. “There is.”

She yanked a cushion off the couch, then replaced it. “I can just sleep here.”

“It’s not a fold-out,” he said, stating what she’d just seen when she lifted the cushion.

“I know. It’s fine.”

“You can have the bed.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want it.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Alex said. “You are taking the bed. I can sleep out here.”

“You need the bed,” she countered. “You won’t fit on this couch. And you need to be able to stretch out.”

He sat down on the love seat. He could just park himself there now and there would be nothing she could do. But as soon as he sat down, the cushion sagged under his weight and he felt a spring poking into his backside. It was a million times worse than Cam’s couch.

“New plan,” he said as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. “No one should be sleeping on this. It’s barely good enough to sit on, much less sleep on.” He bounced up and down and the springs protested, squeaking and groaning loudly.

He stood up. “We can share the bed. It’s a queen. Big enough for both of us.”

Cam’s mouth dropped open. “Absolutely not.”

“You need your sleep,” he said. “I know you haven’t slept worth shit the last few nights.”

She didn’t argue with that statement, because she couldn’t. He knew they’d both struggled to get rest.

She glared at him. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I’m not asking you to sleep with me,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. But something inside him stirred. Old memories sprang immediately to life, of him touching her, kissing her, loving her. They rushed back at him with aching clarity, and it took everything he had to stay focused, to not get lost in the moment.

Alex chanced a look at her. Cam’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he could tell his suggestion had gotten under her skin.

Good.

She’d gotten under his skin, too.

Again.

He smiled. “I’ll stay on my side. And all we’ll do is sleep.”

She just stared at him. “No.”

“Alright,” he said agreeably. “We don’t have to sleep, then.”

Her eyes rounded. “That’s not what I meant!”

He chuckled. “Just get in the bed, Cam. I won’t touch you. I won’t look at you. I promise. But we both need some sleep if we’re going to figure out what the hell to do next.”

Something clicked, because her expression shifted.

And he knew he’d won the argument.

Now he just needed to make sure he could keep the promises he’d just made.