Page 6 of The Crush
For a few seconds, we remain suspended, close yet growing closer, until he finally nods, his grip on my arm loosening and his fingers brushing along my skin as his hand falls. I actually shiver as I track its descent, and when I look back at his face, the intensity in his gaze stalls the breath in my lungs.Is he—
“Daniel Ríos, I heard you were back in town!” exclaims a voice from the entrance of the grocery store, the overly friendly intrusion enough to finally make both of us take that step back.
“Mrs. Diaz.” Daniel straightens his posture as he turns and greets the woman in her eighties, now approaching us at top speed with her cane. “Nice to see you.”
“Oh, you do remember. Wasn’t sure you would after all these years.” She looks pleased beneath her tightly curled white hair, although I don’t miss the way her eyes also flit between the two of us with interest.Busybody.
“Wondered when I might run into you.” She continues talking to Daniel as she comes to stand next to me and places a bracing hand on my arm. “Then here you are with our little college girl.”
Little. College. Girl?I stifle my groan.Seriously?
Across from me, Daniel coughs, and I think I see him trying to hide a smirk as he takes in my expression. If Mrs. Diaz also notices my annoyance, she doesn’t seem to pay it any mind.
“You know, Daniel, I’ve been wanting to congratulate you personally. I know we sure are proud. To bring a man like Escobar to justice… You’re a hero.”
Daniel gives her a tight smile, and I note the way he now holds the bottle in a vise grip. “That’s kind of you, but I really didn’t—”
“We were starting to wonder if you’d ever make your way back home,” Mrs Diaz continues, undeterred. “You’ve been gone for ages. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been on Tadeo to have you that far away. Especially after your—”
“I thought you gave a wonderful reading at mass last Sunday, Mrs. Diaz,” I interrupt this time, the new direction of conversation appearing to catch Daniel even more off guard than the older woman. But at the chance to be the center of attention, she recovers quickly.
“Oh, well, it all comes down to experience. You know, I’ve been doing readings at San Miguel since your mother was a little girl,” she says, her focus shifting back to Daniel. “Your mamá, too.”
“No wonder you do such a good job at it then,” I say, making her turn again. “My mother was actually practicing hers for tomorrow when I left. She said she always tries to do them as well as you.”
A lie, but I know if confronted my mother would never say. She likely wouldn’t even get the chance.
“High praise,” she preens. “Eva is not an easy one to impress.”
No kidding, I think, as Mrs. Diaz begins fishing in her purse.
“Actually, that reminds me. I’ve been meaning to call her to see if she could spare a few extra recipes for the parish cookbook this year. You know, people always like hers the best, and it might help boost our numbers a bit.” Mrs. Diaz at last produces a list, holding it up a few inches from her face and squinting as she reads. Feigninggenuine interest, I step closer and manage to situate myself as a slight barrier between her and Daniel.
“Let me see,” she says, all business now. “You know, Eva really is most famous for her baking. Do you think she might part with a few of those? The really good ones?”
Not a chance, I think, but instead I say, “She might. Maybe you can catch her at mass tomorrow.”
Mrs. Diaz carefully considers that for a moment. “Perhaps you could ask her first? Warm her up to the idea.”
Clearly a healthy fear of my mother applies to all ages. I sigh, wondering if I could barter the task to Gabe in exchange for a second pint. “Can you write down the ones you want?”
She nods enthusiastically and returns to her purse, presumably for a pen, while I take that moment to look back at Daniel over my shoulder, purposefully tilting my head in the direction of the parking lot.
Run, I mouth silently, nodding my head once more in the direction of his freedom.Go on.
A heartbeat passes, one more where I wonder if I’ve managed to again make a fool of myself, but then…Daniel Ríos grins. Not just smiles.Grins.Dimples and all as my heart lurches.
“Been good to see you, ma’am,” he says, already at the edge of the sidewalk. “I should be heading home.”
Mrs. Diaz waves without looking up. “Give Tadeo my best.”
“Will do.” Right before stepping off the curb, he looks back, dipping his head to me in a silent gesture of gratitude as he grins once more. “Good night, Isabel.”
If I hadn’t known already, I would have known right then that I never stood a chance.
Five
Daniel
