Chapter 10

Evie

Itake a sip of the lager. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but I want to meet new people and these two guys seem harmless enough.

Well, maybe not both of them.

The muscle man with the dreads speaks his mind, and then some. But the other guy, Adam, is a good fifteen years my junior. He's a few inches taller than I am and sexy as all hell. He's wearing a leather jacket over a black shirt, his hair just long enough to reach the collar. When I introduce myself, the musky scent of his aftershave makes me momentarily woozy. This one's dangerous.

Zane stands on the opposite side of the pool table, cue in hand, seemingly chomping at the bit for me to take a shot. I position myself, leaning over, lining up my shot. I take it. And dunk three balls.

A loud hoot comes from the table. I turn to see Adam laughing deliriously, several patrons turning to look our way, a few glancing at Zane whose face is beet red. I grin broadly.

"Way to go, Evie!" Adam shouts.

"Lucky shot," I say, shrugging, secretly loving his cheerleading.

Zane grumbles. "You tricked me."

I shake my head, maneuvering around him to ready my next shot. "You made assumptions."

"Touché," Adam says.

Earlier, when I saw the two men sitting near the pool table, something pushed me to suggest a wager. That something was Zane. I know it wasn't fair to lure him but I have a problem with the sexist moniker so why not let him think I'm just a clueless ‘cougar?' It's why I took the comment in stride, pretending not to hear it. Now he'll pay.

Also, I'm turning fifty, divorced, and in dire need of a confidence boost.

When I scratch, Adam says, "Come on Zane, give it your best shot."

Which he does. I'm impressed with his skill. Clearly, he takes the game seriously. But I'm better. I grew up with a pool table in my parents' home in Connecticut. I still play regularly when I go to visit.

The game is over quickly.

"Double or nothing?" I ask.

Zane plops in the chair and hands me the money. "Nah."

I pocket the cash. "If it's any consolation, you're the best opponent I've had in ages. Adam, you up?"

He holds up his hands. "Too rich for my blood."

Zane rolls his eyes.

Adam gestures to an empty chair. "Wanna join us, Evie?"

I sit down, taking another sip of my beer. "I'm starving."

Adam waves over the waitress who takes my order and smiles at me. "It's not every day we see Zane beaten like that," she says before moving onto the next table.

Zane bristles and heads to the men's room.

Adam grins at me. "Don't mind him. He'll be back to himself by tomorrow. Are you visiting the area?"

I say, "I came out here for my birthday week. I planned to spend it in the mountains with a friend. Last-minute change."

Dorothy turns. "Did I hear it's your birthday?"

"Yep."

Sixty seconds later, Dorothy places a slice of gooey chocolate cake in front of me. "On the house. Happy birthday."

Zane is back at the table. "How old are you, anyway?"

Adam appears mortified with his friend's abysmal social graces.

"Turning fifty," I say, looking at my watch. "In three and a half hours."

Adam says, "Fifty? You look amazing."

I wonder what fifty is supposed to look like these days. I've seen photos of my grandmother at this age and she looked ancient. Thank heavens for Pilates and hair dye.

Zane says, "You're only a few years younger than my mom."

Seriously sore loser.

I smile and eat my cake, then stand. "Thanks for a fun time. I better head to the hotel. I have a big hike ahead of me in the morning."

Adam asks, "Which one?"

"Tomorrow I'll tackle Cloud's Rest."

Adam brightens. "Wild. That's where I'm heading."

Zane cuts his eyes to Adam. "You are?"

"Yes, I am."

I don't miss the glare at Zane. I hold back a smile.

Zane stands, too. "I need to be up at six. Thanks for the grub, bro. Too bad I had to pass my winnings over to Evie or I'd pick up the tab." He walks away.

"Better luck next time," I call over my shoulder. To Adam, I say, "I better get going also."

Adam stands, walking me to the exit, swinging the leather jacket over his shoulder. The shirt sticks to his abs, and his arm muscles look like their close to bursting. Are all the men in this town related to the Hulk?

He says, "You know, since we're both heading to the park tomorrow, would you care for a ride?"

I feel an unexpected sensation. It sneaks up on me like a pouncing tiger.

Desire.

What is wrong with me? He's too young!

I clear my throat. "I'm leaving at daybreak. And I'm staying in the opposite direction from the park. And I don't actually know you."

Adam smiles. His teeth are perfect. "That's a lot of ands."

I open the door and return the smile. "Thanks, but I'll pass. I have my own wheels."

"No prob," he says. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow in the park."

"Sure."

Seriously, how likely would that be in a park roughly the size of Rhode Island?

I watch him amble away, telling myself I made the right decision to decline his offer.

I knowI shouldn't be surprised by the hotel. Caroline has expensive taste and the money to indulge it. But when I pull up to the reception and a white-gloved valet comes to take my bags, I find myself marveling.

The hotel, located in Merced, is the most luxurious I've ever stayed in. Unexpected, in a town close to a national park. Granted, I had to drive another twenty-five minutes from the bar, in the wrong direction. But it's worth it to have the claw foot tub with spectacular views, designer bath products, and a shower with spray that hits you from every angle.

I put on my flannel nightshirt, flick off the lights, and get under the covers, moaning at the feel of cool luxurious linens on my body.

Excited for the next day, I wait the few minutes until midnight. "Here's to another half century on the planet!"

A half hour before dawn, I wake to the Beatles' Good Day Sunshine blaring from my phone. Out the window, the mountains are still dark, their ridges visible beneath the moonlight.

Despite the temptation to remain under the cozy comforter, I sit up, itching to get out on the trail. First things first. It's eight-thirty in New York. I ring up Caroline.

"Can't talk. My doctor is here," Caroline says, in a low voice and I pause a moment, picturing her in a dreary hospital room all alone. Caroline is not one to sit still. She likes to be out, at the gym, shopping, coffee clatches. But something in the tone of those few words takes me by surprise. If I'm not mistaken, Caroline is swooning. The doctor must be a looker.

I tell her I'll call back and get out of bed, do fifty crunches, twenty push-ups and then ten minutes of an online yoga class before hitting the shower.

Thoughts of last night come to mind. I hope Zane is done licking his wounded ego.

As I lather up, the heavenly scent of argan oil fills the shower stall. A mental image of Adam pops into my head.

Adam is hot stuff. His thick mop of hair, curling at the edges. The way his shirt clung to his abs. Younger or not, the attraction is fierce. For me, anyway.

Who am I kidding? No way Adam would be interested in a much older woman.

Maybe I should have agreed to ride with him to the park. What are the odds a man who cheered me on at the pool table, against his buddy, is a secret murderer?

Doesn't matter. It's too late. I have no way to reach him. And anyway, I'm not in the market for a man. Been there, done that.

I spray on tons of sunscreen and toss a bag of trail mix and two granola bars into my backpack. After filling up my water bottles, I grab my phone, sunglasses, and Columbia University ball cap and head out to the Porsche, pumped up for a day in Yosemite.