“Friends, as we gather here . . . ,” the service continues and I focus on the words. I’ve heard them before but the beauty of them moves me and I think about the woman I knew and loved. When the music starts we all stand. When it stops, we all sit. I know what’s coming, so I just close my eyes.

When the priest begins reciting the Final Commendation and Farewell, my eyes snap open. It’s too soon—I’m not ready. I squeeze River’s hand so tightly my knuckles turn white. He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it, then he places his other hand on top of mine. The music starts to play and we all stand again. Now it’s time for each of us to make our way to the front to say our own private goodbye.

My hands clench and unclench and I take a deep breath. Approaching the angelic white casket, I see her there in her navy dress, but her eyes aren’t sparkling. The normal glow of her skin is gone and replaced by white chalky powder. Her lips are pressed together and I notice right away she has lipstick on. She never wore lipstick. I want to wipe it off her. My tears fall to the satin interior, leaving their mark. I want to kiss her, to hold my hand over hers, but I can’t. I’ve never been able to touch someone lying there like that. They seem so close and you just want them to open their eyes and give you a reassuring smile, but you know they aren’t able to.

Voices murmur behind me as I open my purse and place my no-regrets bracelet on top of her folded hands so it sits right next to her diamond ring. I tuck the screwdriver inside the satin lining of the casket and then whisper, “Grace, I’m giving you this to hold forever. Please know I will always say what needs to be said and will live my life with no regrets.” I turn, but twist to look back one last time. Her ring shines so bright it catches my eye. It’s the same ring she wore on her finger for so many years even though her husband had died so long ago and I think—that’s the kind of love I have now.

Making my way back to the pew, I wait for everyone else to say his or her goodbyes. I squeeze River’s hand and look over to him. He catches my gaze and looks at me with so much love. I know with him by my side I can make it through anything. The music starts and we move to exit the pew. With one last glance, I look up to the same altar I have looked on many times before. But this time, as the stained– glass window reflects on the statue at the altar, I don’t have to wish for it to bring me peace because I am at peace.

Chapter 29

Run

River

Three weeks later


I yell over the crowd pumping my fist in the air. I can’t help but grin at her. I just knew she could do it. I’m completely mesmerized as I watch her move around. When she motions for me to join her, I put my hands out in protest—no way am I doing that. But she’s relentless and since I can never say no to her, I quickly cave and move to join her.

It’s karaoke night and the words are flashing across the screen, but it feels bigger than that. My girl is up onstage living out a small part of a childhood dream that had long been forgotten.

Rihanna’s “Umbrella” ends before I even get onstage. Thank God, because if I had to sing that song I would never have heard the end of it from the guys. Just when I think I’m in the clear, my smart-ass brother cues up Maroon 5’s song “Moves Like Jagger.” Of course he’d pick that song. Asshole.

I jump onstage and Garrett hands me a mic. I have to say, I don’t mind sharing the spotlight with her. In fact, I kind of like it. I decide I’m going to seize the moment and play it up. I’ve seen the music video, and I can move like Jagger. The music starts and I jump into it, pointing to Dahlia.

I stop mid-sway and harden on the spot when her part cues up and she curls her finger toward me, shoots me a wink, then runs her hand down the side of her body. Fuck, that was hot. Upping my game to match hers, I pull my T-shirt off. Tossing it at her, I run my hands down the front of my jeans. She likes the lead singer of Maroon 5; I know she does, so if I have to sing his song I might as well really get into the role.

When the song ends everyone starts clapping. We continue to sing the chorus without the music and the applause escalates. When I hear catcalls from the audience, I grab her and pull a Marlon Brando. I kiss her hard in front of everyone, just in case some guy gets the wrong idea. When she pulls away, she wipes her hand across her mouth and makes a disgusted face, whispering in my ear, “Adam, I have a fiancé and he won’t be very happy with you.”

I know she’s anything but disgusted, and, in fact, I’m hoping she’ll let me take her to the poolroom again, but then I notice it’s reopened. Shit.

After we bow and she tosses me my shirt, she kisses me again. When she slips her tongue in my mouth, I wonder how much she’s had to drink because the bathroom is looking really good right now. As we start to walk away, people are laughing and she stops to take another bow. The crowd likes her. No, they love her. God, do I know how that feels.

I hop offstage first and extend my arms. As she leaps into them she lands squarely in front of me—she did that on purpose. Of course I want to take her home immediately, but tonight is the first night we’ve all gone out together since I quit the band. Even Zane Perry, the new lead singer of the Wilde Ones, is here. My stepfather actually suggested him for the job. I’m not sure about the name, but since his father makes musical history with every album he puts out, I can’t imagine any better choice. I’ve met him a few times and he’s pretty cool, seems to fit right in. He wants to ask me some questions so we have to hang around for a little bit longer.

The band is up after the karaoke opener is over. I haven’t heard the band all play together and you’d think it would be strange for me to watch the Wilde Ones jam without me, but I know it won’t be. I am loving my life right now. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’m working on cutting a few singles of my own and will slowly work toward an album. But more importantly—Dahlia and I have decided to start our own production company. We’ve named it Amazing Grace and we are going to cater to small independent bands.

Xander told me everyone is happy with the way rehearsals are going with the new lead so it looks like there will only be a slight delay before they hit the road. He also told me Zane’s been hooking up with Ellie pretty regularly. Dahlia will be happy to hear that, not that she ever had anything to worry about. I was never interested in that chick or any other chick; I haven’t even looked at another girl that way since the day I found her again.

Dahlia puts her hands into my back pockets and pulls me closer to her. Slipping my arms around her waist, I inhale her scent and whisper in her ear, “You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

I can feel her smile. When she starts nipping at the skin behind my ear, I really think I might lose it. We’ve been here almost three hours and the whole time she’s been torturing me like this. I somehow stupidly agreed to a game of Who Can Hold Out the Longest on the way over here. We were discussing the last time we partied at Smitten’s and our poolroom experience, which led to the so-called game.

Then she offered a wager: If I could go the whole night without trying to get her alone, she’d concede that she was the one who had instigated the hot pool-table sex. Then she added two more rules—I wasn’t even allowed to say “sex” or “I want you.”

“I’ll take that bet and throw in coffee runs for the whole week if I lose,” I replied.

She laughed. “I highly doubt I’ll lose.”

“Game on,” I told her.

But now my cockiness is starting to wane and I’m not sure I’m going to make it much longer. I keep thinking about the bathroom; maybe she’s drunk enough that she won’t remember the bet?

The thought of taking her someplace private is driving me insane. I pull back and grab her hand. “Come with me, beautiful girl.”

She smiles wickedly and I lead her to the back of the bar. We’re only halfway there when my sister taps me on the shoulder. “Hey, there you are.”

“Hi, Bell. What’s up?”

Dahlia rests her chin on my shoulder and wraps her arms around my waist. “Hi, Bell.”

Bell’s eyes shift to Dahlia. “Dahlia, I need some advice. Can we talk?”

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do.” Dahlia steps around me to stand next to my sister.

Bell motions her head over to one of the couches. “In private.”

I shoot her an amused look. “Is that a hint? Should I get lost?”

Dahlia tries not to laugh but giggles anyway. “Why don’t you grab us some drinks?” Bell starts over to the seating area. Dahlia rubs her nose on mine, moves to kiss me, but bites down on my lower lip instead, and then whispers in my ear, “I think I just won.”

Her beautiful eyes are boring into mine and there’s a huge grin on her face. I hate to disappoint her, but I have to disagree. “Ummm . . . that would be a giant negative. I haven’t said anything I’m not supposed to and as far as I can see, we’re still dressed,” I whisper to her.

“Okay Loverboy, you want to play it that way? I know where you were headed and so do you, but since you didn’t actually say anything I’ll let it slide. How about you grab a few rounds of shots?” she says and then turns around to follow Bell.

I have to laugh because I know she thinks if I have another drink, I won’t be able to control myself and she’ll win. Funny, since I’m not drinking tonight and she hasn’t even noticed. I have to stay on my game, plus I want to drive home and not cab it, and last and most importantly I want to make sure she has a blast. Tomorrow is the anniversary of her parents’ death so I’ve made it my mission to make tonight as bright as it can be for her.