GRACIE FUMED as she stalked away from Riley’s house. “A blind squirrel,” she muttered. “My opinion on Pam wasn’t based on dumb luck. Talk about ungrateful. If he’d listened to me, he wouldn’t have married her in the first place. But no.”

She stomped her foot once for good measure, then stopped on the sidewalk. No sign of Alexis or the car. While Los Lobos wasn’t huge, the distance from the Whitefield manor side of town to her mother’s more middle-class neighborhood would definitely qualify as a serious workout.

She turned left and started walking. The night was pleasantly cool with a hint of brine in the air. Even though she’d been gone forever, the town felt familiar. She liked the closeness of the ocean and the quiet residential streets. She might live in a suburb back in Los Angeles, but it was a whole lot louder than this.

At the corner, she glanced back at Riley’s house. He might have grown up poor, but he fit in there now. As she walked across the street, she smiled. Man oh man, had he looked good. She supposed she could take comfort in the fact that even at thirteen she’d had fabulous taste in men. Riley had only gotten better with age. He had the brooding, dark, good looks of a fallen angel. An angel with a diamond stud earring.

Despite her shock and embarrassment at seeing him again, she’d felt something. Sparks. Attraction. No doubt as completely one-sided as it had ever been, which meant she had to make sure she didn’t even pretend to act on it. No way was she willing to be stalker girl again.

A car pulled up beside her. Gracie glanced over and saw Alexis’s Camry. Her sister rolled down the window.

“You got away,” she said quietly. “I’m glad. Get in.”

“What do you mean I got away?” Gracie asked as she opened the door and slid onto the passenger seat. “Were you seriously concerned Riley would take me prisoner and torture me for information?”