Elsa said, “Yes, his grandson.”

As Hank sang “Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town,” Madigan was thrown back to the cove, to Tobias’s gravelly voice, and the peaceful look in his eyes she’d glimpsed for only a few seconds before he’d focused on her. The moment their gazes had connected, she’d felt a gust of energy so intense, she was sure they’d gotten caught in a sudden electrical storm, her every heartbeat an explosion of heat lightning, every breath magnetic, drawing her to him.

His grandfather nudged her with his knee, pulling her back to the moment. She struggled to keep her emotions in check as she joined him in singing about love and memories fading away, her mind trickling back to when Tobias had driven her to work. Had he come to see his grandfather that day? Had he moved there to be near him, just as she had with her grandfather?

Could Marly have been right? Had her brothers scared him away from the one place he longed to be? Her attention was drawn to a framed photograph on the wall of a teenage Tobias in a boxing ring, wearing headgear and shorts, eyes dancing with excitement, his gloved hands in the air like he’d just won the match. To the right of that picture was another of a skinny little Tobias at six or seven standing between his mother and a little girl who looked to be about three or four. Carrie? He was holding their hands and looking adoringly up at his mother.

Sadness swamped her. She longed for answers she’d never get and ached for the little boy his grandfather remembered and for the man she wanted to know better.

As the song came to an end, she forced herself to make a painful, mental correction not to long for the man who had driven away without giving her a second thought. Instead, she ached for the starry-eyed girl who’d sworn she’d never get swept away again and for the romantic-hearted woman who had gotten caught up in the gusty winds of the wrong man.

Chapter Eleven

MADIGAN PLOWED THROUGH the second half of the week writing music to go along with her new stories, which were filled with as much anger as sadness, puppeteering at two birthday parties, negotiating distribution and merchandising for the Mad Truth expansion, and then falling into bed and overthinking every word, glance, and touch she and Tobias had shared, until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

She’d been stupid to let her guard down, and it pissed her off that she was still thinking about him despite her determination to get back to normal. Tobias was probably out there winning over some other woman’s reluctant heart with his mysterious broodiness and innate ability to drive her wild. Would she have blue eyes, too? Would he call her Blue Eyes?