“Don’t worry about it. Like you said, a lot happened last night. It looks like it was meant to be, anyway. The fact that we drove by that old shop, on that same road, on the exact day, says a lot.” He stared into my eyes, and I was relieved to see he didn’t blame me for anything.
Pointing toward my apartment, he said, “Go on in. I know that guy’s here watching, but I’ll stay here until I’m sure you’re inside and safe.”
“Okay.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Talk to you soon?”
“Yeah. Soon.”
I got out, casting one last glance back at him before hurrying into my building. The man on the bench caught my eye and nodded slightly, letting me know he knew me, then went back to pretending to read his book. I ran up the stairs, part of me crying out in sadness that I was leaving Nate behind. My inner wolf gave a whine of longing, but I did my best to ignore it.
I nearly skidded to a halt when I found a man leaning against the wall beside my apartment door, flipping through a copy ofThe Chronicle, looking bored.
“Good afternoon, Miss Torres,” he said without looking up. “JC sent us. You’re clear.”
Twoguards? JC wasn’t taking any chances.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I skirted around him to unlock the door.
Before I’d even managed to close the door, shouts of surprise and happiness rang out from the kitchen.
“Cam!” Gael ran over to me and threw his arms around my waist.
“Mija.My girl. Oh, praise the Lord,” Mom said as she wrapped her arms around me and my little brother. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’m great.”
Something about my tone must have sounded off. Mom quirked an eyebrow in question, but said nothing. Instead, she yanked the backpack off my shoulders and tossed it on the couch.
“Come. Help your mother. I’m makingmoléfor dinner.”
“From scratch?” I asked wearily. “That takes hours.”
Nodding slowly, she spoke as if she was explaining something to a small child. “Yes. That’s why we’re working on it this early. I had a craving,” she added with a shrug. “And I have the day off, so what better time?”
Gael still clung to me, and I struggled free of his grip. When he looked up at me, he wasn’t crying, but his eyes were watery.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, bending over to meet his eyes.
He swiped his arm across his face. “Sorry. I missed you. I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” I hugged him again. “It’s okay. Let’s help Mom, huh?”
“Sure,” he said.
We spent the next several hours helping her toast dried chiles, grindpepitas,peanuts, Mexican chocolate, and half a dozen other ingredients. Afterward, Gael and I cut up the whole chicken and put it in the slow cooker with chicken broth.
“I’d rather do this the old-fashioned way with the Dutch oven,” Mom said with a sigh, then patted the slow cooker, “But sometimes, things can be easier.”
After putting the chicken on to cook and the sauce on to simmer, Gael made his exit. “I’m gonna go play video games,” he said, giving me one last hug before bounding down the hall to his room.
“Put your laundry in the hamper first,” Mom called after him.
“Yup,” he called an instant before his door closed.
Once we were alone, the smile vanished from Mom’s face as she turned to look at me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied, shaking my head.
