He’d had three hard years to think about how clueless he’d been when he was growing up, thinking he’d known about life and its hardships. He hadn’t a clue back then, and it wasn’t just the death of his friend or prison that had brought that to light or changed him. It was Madigan. She’d taught him more about life and love in a couple of months than he’d learned in all the years before, and thanks to Madigan and her family, he was beginning to see a future for himself. A future he wanted with Madigan.

But he was still a broken man.

He’d been thinking about what Madigan had said about reaching out to Carrie, but as badly as he wanted to try to bridge that gap, fear of fucking up his sister’s life even worse than he already had stopped him at every turn, making the future he longed for so far out of reach, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get there.

Madigan’s voice escalated to match the quickening beat, drawing him from his thoughts. He looked around the bar, and it seemed nobody else could take their eyes off his mahogany-haired girl, either. She looked edgy and gorgeous in a silk black-and-silver spaghetti-strap top, dark skinny jeans, and those sexy black leather boots she wore so often. She was nearly shouting, pouring all her emotion into the story. People shot to their feet, punching their fists in the air to the beat. Tobias pushed to his feet, craning to see over the crowd.

“It’s almost unreal how the world’s so beautiful.

It’s like a steal the way we get to experience.”

Madigan’s voice softened, singing so quietly the din of the crowd silenced. Her eyes found Tobias, dancing with that special light meant solely for him, and hell if he didn’t feel a thrum of heat right down to his bones.

“The feelings I feel when I am right next to you.

Or in the car singing the feelings out loud.”

As she strummed the last chord, applause and whistles rang out. His chest swelled with love, and in that extra beat in which she held his gaze, her smile spoke louder than all the patrons’ cheers put together.

He finished his beer as she thanked the audience and announced her next gig. The bartender, a thick-chested sandy-haired guy, said, “Hey, man. Tell her I said thanks for another awesome show.”

“Will do. See ya, buddy.” Tobias weaved through the crowd, trying to spot Madigan, and caught a glimpse of her just as she slipped through the crowd heading toward the staff break room, where she’d stowed her guitar case. As he rounded the stage, he got caught in a throng of customers getting up to leave their tables.

“Sorry,” one of the guys said.