of Green Day’s “When I Come Around.”

The biggest surprise was Bo Crutcher. He looked like a natural in tattered jeans, a black T-shirt and a bandanna around his head. His big hands held the bass with assuredness, and his face was a picture of concentration as he played. She’d been thinking a lot about those hands lately—the way they felt when he touched her, their irresistible combination of strength and tenderness. She’d been writing about those hands, too, in her press materials for him. A pitcher’s hands were precision instruments, part of the fine alchemy of the pitch, with an instinctive way of holding the ball, fingers caressing the curving seams into perfect position, breaking with it at exactly the right time, letting go at the moment of greatest power. Now she watched his fingers on the strings of the bass with the same delicacy.

Kim found herself beaming at him, particularly when AJ and some of his friends went wild, dancing to the music.

At the end of the set, she leaned over to Sophie during the applause. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. And you’re right. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

Sophie nodded. “They probably won’t win any Grammy awards, but they’re fun to watch.”

The group’s next number was a slow, beautiful song that was so romantic, she felt an ache in her throat. “What’s this song?” she asked Sophie. “It’s amazing.”

“Something original by Eddie,” she said. “Good, isn’t he?”

“Uh-huh.” Yet her attention strayed from the light-haired guitar player to Bo, whose face was intense with concentration, not unlike his expression when he threw a pitch.

They finished the set and Sophie went to find Noah. Kim felt a momentary twinge of envy, watching Noah’s affectionate hug. Although hardly in the market for a husband, she wished she had someone to go to at the odd moment, just like that. To know that no matter where you were in a crowd, there was always someone you could seek out and be comfortable with.

Her mother came up beside her and squeezed her hand. “I’m seeing your heart in your eyes.”

“You’re not.” Then, with a rueful smile, Kim admitted, “Maybe you are. I’m thinking it has something to do with an athlete’s intense concentration, whether he’s pitching a baseball or playing music. Why is that so hard for me to resist?”

“I’m thinking it has something to do with Bo Crutcher, specifically,” her mother declared.

“If so, I’m not doing anything about it. The irony of my line of work is that doing a good job with a client means he moves on. His success dealing with the media means he doesn’t need me anymore, and that’s the way it’s supposed to work. The mistake I made with Lloyd Johnson was holding on. I should have let go. I won’t be making that mistake again.”

“That only works if your relationship is strictly professional. If it’s personal, then this is only the beginning.”

“Beginning of what?” asked Dino. “Did you tell her about us?”

Penelope gasped. “No, but I suppose you just did.”

Kim regarded them both with dawning understanding. “Mom?”

Her mother’s eyes shone. “Dino asked me to marry him.”

“And she said yes,” he added, slipping his arm around her waist.

Kim’s eyes teared up. “Oh, Mom. Sorry, I need a minute. I mean, I knew the two of you…Sorry,” she said again. “It’s not every day a person learns her mother is getting married.”

“I was planning to tell you tonight. I know it seems sudden, but I’m very, very sure of this, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is short and putting off love makes no sense at all.”

Kim looked from her mom to Dino and back again. Love and happiness surrounded them like an aura. The flickering colored lights in the hall illuminated her mother’s face, and Kim saw someone who was more than her mother—a beautiful woman, flushed with excitement. Lit by love.

Without warning, she burst into tears and embraced them both. “This is the best news. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Then dry your eyes and let’s dance,” Dino insisted.

They headed off to dance to the next band’s rendition of Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” Up near the stage, she spotted Bo and AJ together. She noticed something new in the way the boy regarded Bo, a deeper admiration and affection than she’d seen before. Watching the two of them, she felt a fresh wave of emotion. How far they had come, in such a short time. Right before her eyes, the two of them had turned from strangers to father and son, and it was the sweetest of miracles. Yes, she could tell herself she was simply feeling tender over the news about her mother, but it was more than that.

Without meaning to—in fact, resisting all the way—she’d fallen in love with them both. With Bo, who was working so hard to do right by his son, and with AJ, still lost and missing his mother, even as he tried to fit into a strange new world. She hadn’t gone looking for this but couldn’t escape it, a feeling in the pit of her stomach, both happy and sad. Bo Crutcher had the power to break her heart, yet for the first time in her life, she didn’t worry about that. She just wanted to be with him in the worst way, and the fallout didn’t scare her.

As if he felt her watching him, Bo looked up and their gazes met. Was her heart still in her eyes? Could he see that? He came over to her and said, “AJ’s been invited to sleep over at his friend’s house. I said it was okay.”

“I assume you know the friend, right? And his family?”

“Kid named Tad Lehigh. I know his aunt Maureen, who’s the town librarian. And I just talked to his mother, and they’ve already left. I wrote down their phone number.” His hand caught hers, fingers caressing the inside of her wrist. The music changed to a not-terrible rendition of Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna

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