 
# Only in Time

### Touched by Magic Prequel

## Kelli McCracken

### Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

Also by Kelli McCracken

Afterword

About the Author

Contact Information

# Dedication

To Amber,

For taking me under your wing.

# Prologue

The tires on the old Chevy pickup squealed in protest as Jonah McCabe slid into a parking space. He ripped the seat belt from its lock, grabbed a slip of paper off the dash, and read over the words until he found what he wanted.

_7:50 PM_

Gripping the door handle, he swallowed against the lump in his throat. Each rapid beat of his heart sent twinges through his body as if he were getting shocked. This was his last chance. He could _not_ screw up this time.

As he glanced toward the clock on the dashboard, he groaned.

_7:46 PM_.

Damn. It was time.

The hinges whined and creaked as he opened the door. He ignored the sound and slammed it shut before taking off in a sprint. The seconds ticked by, dwindling away his chance of making this right. His muscles burned and stretched while he raced toward the main doors of the train station.

As soon as Jonah entered the building, the scent of stale Old Spice lingered in the air. He scanned the lobby for a familiar face, one that made his heart catch when he looked upon it. A feminine voice echoed off the walls from the public announcement system. Her cheery tone knotted his gut, but not as much as when she announced the final boarding call for New York.

Pushing his legs to move faster, he ignored the tightness in his chest. Time wasn't a luxury. Never had been. Maybe one day, he would get his shit together and take life more seriously.

He'd have no other choice if he didn't stop the train.

Weaving through the wooden benches, he searched for the boarding entrance. Recent passengers crowded the lobby, huddling with family and friends they'd hadn't seen for only God knows how long. Other people assembled at the ticket box, making purchases and checking schedules. Just ahead, another crowd pushed into the building. Bold letters hung above the door with words Jonah had been eager to see.

**DEPARTURES**.

This wasn't about boarding the train. It was about stopping Ally.

As the seconds ticked away in Jonah's head, he raced past the ticket counter, ready to curse anyone who tried to stop him. Yet, no one did. He said a silent prayer as the cool metal handle greeted his hands. A hard push opened the door.

The scent of diesel assaulted his nose as he stepped onto the cement pad. When he reached the edge of the platform, he stared at the empty tracks below, trying to tune out the squeaking in the distance.

_Oh, no_

The shrill whistle startled him as he turned to see a train pulling away.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Stop!" Zipping past a crowd of onlookers, he made it to the end of the pad. "I need on that train! Please! I..."

His pleas fell on deaf ears. The only patrons remaining were those who'd seen off their family or friends. While a few shot him glares adorned with folded brows, most just ignored him.

He'd do the same if the roles were reversed.

The one thing he couldn't ignore was the ache in his chest. It formed near his heart, spreading like a deadly virus through his arms, legs, even his head. Every part of him ached. His lungs burned when he tried to take a breath

As his hands fell to his sides, the slip of paper he'd been holding floated to the ground. He didn't bother catching it. There was no need for it anymore. Everything he ever wanted just disappeared, along with the taillights of the train.

It felt as though a weight were crushing his chest. It hurt to breathe, to think, to stand and watch his life go down the drain.

God help him.

He refused to repeat this mistake—giving his heart away to a woman who didn't know how much he loved her. She would never know he came to stop her or give her the reason she'd been searching for.

Time hadn't been on his side. Perhaps it would have if he hadn't—

_Damn her mother._

# Chapter 1

_S ix years later..._

* * *

The crumpled newspaper crackled in Ally Jacobs's hand as she removed the last picture from the box on the floor. Her eyes trailed over the other dozen boxes spread across her new living room. Each held items from her apartment in New York, items that needed a new wall, or shelf, or drawer. She'd be here a week or more if she tried finding the perfect spot for everything. Not that she would. The picture in her hand held more significance than anything else she owned.

Letting the paper fall to the floor, she swiped her palm against the glass, eyeing the handsome man in the photo. Dressed in his BDUs, insignias donned his collar—a diamond nestled between three arcs and three chevrons. Her father looked every bit the army first-sergeant he was, even while hugging her.

As she placed the photo on the table near the window, a tinge of sadness pinched her heart. She adjusted the frame before draping dog tags over it. Her finger slid across the engraved words _Jacobs, Robert._

Hard to believe it had been fourteen years since her mother received that dreaded visit by the military base chaplain. It was the visit that rocked Ally's world, even at ten. If only she had gone to her room and shut the door like her mother had asked instead of peeking around the hallway corner. Maybe then she wouldn't have heard every painful word that slipped past the chaplain's lips. She had stood in the hallway, covering her trembling lips when she heard how her father had died in the line of duty. It wasn't a bullet that ended his life. It was an explosion.

The words coming from the chaplain's mouth weren't as soul shaking as the question her mother asked—if she would have anything to bury? Ally inhaled a shaky breath, remembering how the chaplain shook his head just before his eyes found hers. Seeing her standing in the hallway, tears streaming down her face, had caused his mouth to gape.

Blinking back tears, she eyed the dog tags once more, grateful her father had misplaced the set right after they moved to Savannah. Out of everything he left her in his will, she treasured the tags the most. Perhaps it was because he allowed her to wear them whenever she asked. Or maybe she thought they contained super powers because her dad had been her hero.

Shifting her focus out the window, she gazed at the other houses on her street, wondering how many people still lived in the old neighborhood. While the street she'd grown up on was a few blocks away, she'd hung out on this street plenty. Cassie Clarke used to live at the end of the road. Luckily, her best friend's parents still did. She may have never found this house had they moved elsewhere.

Revisiting the past was dangerous. It brought back memories of other thing and other people Ally had lost. Still, she couldn't stop herself from wondering if someone else's parents still lived across from Cassie's old house. That certain someone had made life in Savannah bearable after her father's death.

Did _he_ still live in—

The doorbell chime echoed through the house, making Ally's heart pound in her chest. Each thump resonated in her ears as she walked toward the door. Few people knew she'd returned, short of her mother and Cassie. Her dinner date with her mom wouldn't be for a couple more hours, which meant the unexpected visitor could only be one person.

As the door swung inward, Ally expected a set of brown eyes to be staring back at her. Instead, gray ones did. They were a striking contrast to the brown uniform he wore.

"Afternoon, ma'am. I have a package for Ally Jacobs." He raised his hands in front of him, holding a small rectangular box.

"That would be me." She grabbed the electronic device he handed her. With her quickest, sloppiest signature recorded, she returned the device, exchanging it for her package.

She barely heard him say goodbye as she stared at the box. Neat handwriting revealed a return address she recognized. What had she forgotten in New York? It had to be valuable or her old roommate wouldn't have sent it.

Curious about the contents, she tore at the cardboard until a letter slipped out. Perfectly constructed letters stretched across the paper, and each word they formed made Ally smile.

_I knew you would end up forgetting something. Hope you're enjoying Savannah. I miss going out for coffee in the mornings. Don't forget about me. ~Darcy_

Once she returned to the living room, she placed the letter on the coffee table then sat on the couch. Curiosity got the best of her. She couldn't believe she forgot something after searching the apartment the day she left. The box didn't weigh much so it couldn't have been anything big.

Gazing toward her lap, she unfolded the flaps until the item came into view. Seeing the old, blue T-shirt stole the air from her lungs. Darcy was wrong. Ally hadn't forgotten to pack it. She didn't realize she still had it.

The soft cotton teased her fingers as she pulled the shirt from the box. A wave of pine and juniper swirled inside her nose. God, she loved the smell of Polo cologne. It's why she had bought _him_ a bottle for Christmas during their senior year of high school. Had she known it would be their last Christmas together...

Pushing back the ache in her heart, she stuffed the shirt inside the box. She couldn't afford this little trip down memory lane. And _he_ sure as hell deserved none of her tears. She had given him plenty. He made the choice to pursue his dreams years ago, just like she had. There was no sense in revisiting a place that closed its doors to her before she stepped foot on the train.

She couldn't go back, and even if she could, she would never ask for the key to unlock Jonah McCabe's heart.

The growl of a zipper filled the hotel suite before Jonah flung open the lid to his suitcase. He tossed a pair of socks inside, half pleased when they landed in the gap beside a stack of shirts. If only everything else in his life would fall into place with such ease.

He tuned out the chirping from his phone and the text message it announced. There were enough distractions for him to deal with today. He didn't need to deal with anyone else.

A voice cleared behind him. All his thoughts scattered as he remembered the question still hanging in the air, and the answer his brother, Theo, wanted. Yet the answer Jonah had wouldn't be the one Theo expected.

Shaking his head, Jonah grabbed his shaving kit off the bed, securing it inside the suitcase. Might as well apologize and get it over with. He couldn't put off his brother for long. Still, he knew whatever excuse he conjured wouldn't be good enough.

"Sorry, Theo. I can't do it. My flight leaves in three hours."

"So what?" Theo grumbled from behind. "Fly back tomorrow instead."

Even as grown men, his baby brother knew just how to work him. Jonah let out an exasperated sigh. "I haven't played in a solid year. This isn't about rearranging my schedule. It's about you finding the right guy. You need someone with some talent."

He stole a glance at his brother, not surprised to see frustration filling Theo's eyes. "You can sell that bullshit somewhere else, Jonah," he snorted, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "Tell me you won't, but don't tell me you can't. And _never_ tell me you're not good enough. We both know better than that."

Biting his cheek, Jonah studied Theo. He's brother was as stubborn as their father. Neither would take no for an answer.

A moment of silence accomplished nothing other than a stare down between them. Then Theo stepped toward him, his set jaw proof he wanted to argue his point. Jonah's phone buzzed to life, saving him from what he was sure would be another argument. His eyes moved toward the nightstand, locking on the text bubble that lit up the screen. It had to be Fiona. Again. Her insistent calling only proved the point Jonah was trying to make.

"See!" He gripped the phone in his hand, shaking it in Theo's direction. "I have other shit to take care of. I can't stay."

It only took Theo a second to reach him, his brows tightening with each step. "You lined this gig up months ago after convincing me how important it was to prepare for our album. You should find a replacement!" Theo's voice cracked as it hit a higher pitch. But as quick as anger filled his face, it disappeared just the same. His eyes wavered between Jonah's and the phone before falling to the floor. "Jonah... I wouldn't be asking for a favor if Jeff could make it or if we had anyone else."

Yeah, yeah. So he'd said the first time Jonah had said no. This was about the time when guilt kicked him in the ass and he gave in. Family first. It was the promise they'd made five years ago, almost to the day when Jonah had accepted the job he should fly back to.

In under three hours.

Shit.

Searching for the zipper, he fought back to the urge to flat out refuse. "Jeff won't be ready for the recording if he doesn't show. Why ask for my advice if you guys won't follow it? A freaked out girlfriend is a piss poor excuse to cancel if you ask me."

"Seriously? For Christ's sake, Jonah. Jeff's girlfriend is pregnant. He has a whole mess to deal with. I ain't touching it and it shouldn't matter. Where the hell is your heart?"

"It's still buried at the train station, where I left it." Hating himself for the admission, he let his suitcase lid close nice and loud. The soft pile of clothes he'd thrown in muffled what should have been a nice punctuation to his irritation.

It was Theo's turn to shake his head. He did so as he took a step back toward the dresser. "How long you gonna live in the past, Jonah? You're not responsible for what happened."

"No, I'm only responsible for letting her leave with the wrong impression."

"You thought you were doing the right thing. Why don't you try looking her up? See what she's—"

"Don't go there, Theo. You can't cross burned bridges." Tugging on the suitcase, Jonah let it drop to the floor. The sooner this conversation ended, the better. There was only one sure way to do that. "Okay, I give. How long's the set?"

Theo clapped his hands and pointed finger guns at him. "Ten songs, big bro. You will not be sorry. I think this is just the distraction you need. Wait until you see the Friday night crowd this joint gets. There will be bodies packing the floor, ready to dance, and honeys at our feet, just dripping for a chance." Theo pointed skyward. "Hey, that's not bad."

Jonah rolled his eyes, knowing his brother was off to scribble on the nearest scrap of paper. He'd end up being the one getting dragged to the gig. Theo got in a zone when lyrics came to him. It was the deep zone Jonah only skimmed the surface of when playing guitar.

Plopping down on the bed, he leaned back until the mattress cradled his back. Guess he needed to call Fiona and get this over with. Hopefully, she could get him an early morning flight. Ah, better make it a mid-morning flight. While he didn't have much interest in the complications of any dripping honeys, if the gig ran over or any of the old crew showed up, he'd be courting a hangover for sure.

Damn, it was good to be home again. What harm could just a few more hours do?

The line only rang once before Fiona's voice filled his ear. "About time you acknowledged my texts. Are you at the airport?"

Great. This would go well. She'd love the position he was about to put her in. "Sorry, sweet cheeks. I've been busy with family. And no, I'm not at the airport. In fact, I have a favor to ask. You probably won't like it."

A throaty laugh echoed over the phone. "I'm used to covering for your ass. Lay it on me, Jonah, and hurry, please. I still need to explain why I called."

Hesitating on answering her, he stared at the ceiling, wondering what info she had for him. Hopefully, it was good news. He needed something positive after the last few weeks of hell. Why were musicians such a pain to deal with sometimes?

"I need you to tell Owen that I'll be another day getting back. Then, I need you to book me a flight for tomorrow afternoon."

He waited for a tirade of curse words to follow, but only a snort filled the line. "I'm a step ahead of you, sugar. I've already rescheduled your flight for the fifteenth. You leave out at one."

God, she was great... Wait! What? "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did you say?"

"I said I reschedule your flight."

"Not that part." He sat up in the bed, grabbing his briefcase off the floor. Opening it up, he flipped to the calendar and scanned over his notes. "Why am I not leaving until the fifteenth? That's almost two weeks from now."

"Owen wants you to meet up with a friend of his next Friday. There's a band he wants you to scout."

"So Owen wants me to do his job, huh?" He smacked the briefcase shut before pushing off the bed. "Fine, but why am I not returning until the following Tuesday?"

"Rich Taylor called about your project. He thinks he can squeeze you in next week, but not until Tuesday."

The news brought a smile to Jonah's face. "It's about time."

"Yeah," Fiona grumbled. "You could have gotten in sooner if you had agreed to see the female partner. I believe her name was—"

"I don't want a woman handling this. I work with Rich or no one." His harsh words resonated over the phone, filling Jonah with regret. He'd never yelled at Fiona or voiced his opinion about working with women. He didn't need to start now.

"You know, I never took you for a sexist, Jonah. Why can't you see the female partner in the firm?"

Great. He'd offended her.

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. You know I'm not a sexist."

He hoped his apology would lighten the conversation. Fiona was the best damn assistant in L. A., but when she was mad at him, she could make his job a living hell. Still, she'd been the best thing to come along with his job, and she'd stuck her neck out for him far more than he deserved.

"You know how much I enjoy working with you, Fiona. If I were sexist, I wouldn't."

"Mm-hmm. So you say."

"Listen, sweets, it's nothing against women. It's just that I've spoken with Rich. He knows the project inside and out. I want to deal with him. That's all."

"Well, you still raised your voice at me. But it's okay. You can make it up when you get back. I've been dying to try out the new sushi bar over on Melrose."

Another round of laughter left his mouth. "Fine, fine. Sushi it will be."

Thank goodness Fiona didn't stay mad for long. Guess it helped that she liked her boss. Jonah liked her too, but he couldn't deal with other women, not on a business level, and sure as hell not on a personal level. If he learned anything from his mistake six years ago, it was to always keep up his guard, and never trust a woman with his dreams—or his heart.

# Chapter 2

Ally followed close behind the leggy hostess, wishing she'd worn her three-inch heels. Tall women irritated her, mainly because _the suits_ at her old office treated her like an inferior, looking down at her with their condescending glares whenever she asked about a promotion. If she had been a few inches taller, she would have looked them in the eye and showed them the brass that ran through her veins. They'd had no other choice but to offer her their respect.

At least John Muncy had faith in her, and his opinion was all that mattered. His position with the company trumped _the_ _suits_ that made Ally's life unbearable her first few months on the job. Funny how those same evil men thought giving her the Baker account would be her demise.

Thankfully, it was the account that brought her to John's attention—and consequently—back to Savannah.

Her eyes swept the room, taking in the fully set tables with ivory china, miniature tea light lamps, and fluted glasses as blue the sapphire ring on her finger. She twisted the ring with her thumb, each step taking her deeper into the restaurant. The scent of maple-glazed salmon floated to her nose, making her belly grumble.

Maybe she would order the dish once the hostess seated her. It would pair perfectly with a glass of zinfandel.

No. No wine. She couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to...

The hostess' sudden stop caused Ally to bump into her. Watching the young girl flash her fiery eyes in her direction made Ally's cheeks burn.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled.

At least the hostess' glare subsided. "If you have a seat, I'll send your waiter over."

"Thanks," Ally said, her eyes landing on her mother's face once the hostess walked away.

Like a tidal wave making landfall, a surge of emotions filled her heart. Perhaps it wouldn't feel so awkward if she'd come home for Christmas at least once in the last three years.

"Hi Ally-bear." Her mother's tender voice pushed away her fear.

"Hi, Momma," Ally answered, slipping her purse off her shoulder before lowering herself onto a chair. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Not at all." Her mother gazed down at her watch, tapping the face with her finger. "You're ten minutes early."

"That's what I thought. It threw me off seeing you here. Normally you're the one who's late." The heat of regret filled Ally's face as she realized how hurtful those words sounded. There was an innuendo behind them. "Sorry, Momma. I didn't mean that to sound the way it did."

The laugh lines around her mother's lips deepened. "It's okay, sweetie. So, how is the unpacking going? I know how time consuming it is to settle into a new house."

"Yeah." Ally forced herself to chuckle. "I never knew I had so much stuff in my apartment back in New York."

"You have a way of collecting things over the years," her mother smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

Ally's eyes dropped to the fluted glass in her mother's hand. The words leaving her mom's lips seemed to disappear as she stared at the contents swirling inside. "What's in the glass, Momma?"

The carefree smile spread across her mother's face fell with each second that ticked by. Her eyes locked onto Ally as she rubbed her lips together.

"Water, Ally-bear. It's just water." She moved the glass across the table. "Want to check?"

Ally gazed at the pink lipstick on the side of the glass. She fought back the urge to grip the glass and bring it to her nose. They couldn't start out like this. Her mother promised things had changed. Ally wanted to believe her. She prayed enough time had passed and her mother had learned her lesson.

Hadn't she promised herself that she would not care about this anymore? Yeah, somewhere between receiving her master's degree to landing a job with Muncy Incorporated, she vowed she'd never allow the past and the pain it held to control her life again. She couldn't.

She met her mother's chestnut eyes. "I shouldn't have questioned you, Momma."

"No need to apologize, sweetheart. I understand, Ally."

Her mother reached across the table to pat her hand, but Ally drew back. "It doesn't give me an excuse to treat you that way."

"But it's a natural reaction, one I understand."

This moment couldn't get any more awkward if Ally had shown up in her lingerie. If she didn't turn the conversation around soon, her mother would take a trip down memory lane. Ally refused to travel that uncomfortable road.

She grabbed the menu from the table and opened it up. "How about we order our food?"

"Can I give you something first?"

Skimming over the entrée descriptions, Ally avoided her mother's gaze. "Give me something? Momma, I told you I didn't need a gift."

"It's your birthday, baby girl. Did you honestly think I wouldn't get you something?"

No. The one thing her mother never forgot was her birthday. She wondered what kind of odd present she'd bought this year. Maybe another box of gourmet marshmallows or a self stirring coffee cup to match the self-mixing martini shaker. Better yet, why not another pack of permanent salt-rimmed shot glasses?

She shouldn't think so negatively. Her mother's gifts had improved. Last year's sweet pea scented candles had turned out to be one of her favorite items in her home. She'd made five trips to Bath and Body to replace the candles once she used them.

"You shouldn't have bought a gift," Ally sighed. "A card would have sufficed."

"Nonsense. Cards are impersonal." Her mother lifted her purse from the floor to the empty chair beside her. "You're my daughter. You deserve a gift."

Ally braced herself, hoping like hell this gift wouldn't make her cheeks turn the same color as the pink blouse her mother donned. When her mother sat a tall rectangular box in front of her, Ally ran a few different scenarios through her mind. Maybe it was a bottle of her favorite perfume.

She untied the pink ribbon, forcing a smile for her mother. Unlatching the tape from the deep brown paper, her curiosity peaked when a creamy box stared back at her. Her eyes darted back to her mom's face.

"I hope you didn't spend much on me."

"Just open the gift."

Ally did. The box gave a muffled creak as she lifted the top. The contents inside shimmered under the table lamp's glow, making the mother-of-pearl face look silvery. The black second-hand ticked in a circle over the roman numerals.

"Wow, Mom. The watch is so pretty."

"Do you like it?"

The need for approval thickened her mother's voice. Ally's cheeks stung. She kept her hardened eyes toward the menu. Saying a silent prayer, she dreaded the impending conversation. It would happen. There was no way around it.

Why couldn't her mother have waited until they finished dinner? Thinking about the loaded conversation ahead made her stomach sink.

"Good evening, ladies." Ally's eyes flashed upward, meeting the clean-cut waiter standing at the edge of their table. "My name is Eric. It's my pleasure to serve you this evening. May I tell you about our specials?"

A small thread of relief trickled through Ally's heart. The waiter could sit with them and monopolize the conversation for the rest of the night. Anything would be better than her mother dredging up the past.

Without acknowledging her mom, she nodded to the waiter. When his voice droned in her ears, she focused her eyes on her plate. She didn't need to listen. Avoiding her mother's gaze gave her plenty of time to study the menu. She knew what she wanted.

The waiter's voice still buzzed in the background. God, she wished she knew what time it was. Would either consider her rude if she grabbed her purse from the chair to dig out her cell phone?

Wait... She had the watch. Perfect.

The second hand continued ticking while the hour hand remained on the six and the minute hand neared the three. Six thirteen. This would definitely be a long, uncomfortable dinner. At least she had something to look forward to after—

"Ally?"

Her mother's voice, like a fork scraping a plate, made the hairs on her neck stand. She rubbed the nape and met impatient eyes. "Ma'am?"

"He asked you a question." Her mother nodded toward the server who stood there, pen poised on the order slip.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?"

He gave her a warm smile. "I wanted to know if you'd like to start with a cocktail?"

"Oh." She cleared her throat. Had her mother ordered one? Why hadn't she paid attention instead of shutting them out? Now she wouldn't know until the drink arrived at the table. "No, thanks. A lemon water works for me."

"Superb. Are you ready to order?" He asked, scribbling down her drink order.

She wondered what her mother's entry said. Her eyes drifted back to the woman who'd given birth to her. It was the only thing her mother ever done for her that counted. Forgetting the past would be a challenge.

"You ready to order, Momma?"

Raven waves brushed her mother's neck as she nodded. "I believe so."

A vibration sounded against the chair beside Ally. Someone had sent her a text. As her mother continued with her order, Ally uncrossed the shoulder straps and opened her purse. Thank goodness her phone lay near the top. She gripped the black casing, placing the phone on the table, beside her plate.

"And for you, Miss.?" the server asked.

She covered the phone with her hand before meeting the waiter's questioning eyes. The earlier scent of salmon remained in Ally's mind. Might as well order it. She gave the server her order, watching as his pen flew across the paper.

Once finished, he collected the menus. He should have collected her dress, too. Either way, she felt exposed. At least the menu gave her a diversion from her mother's eyes.

Her gaze fell back to the phone. She pressed the center button, waiting for the text message bubble to light up the screen.

_Just confirming our 'date'. Can't wait to see you. It's been way too long. Be ready to have fun ~ Cassie._

Ally smiled to herself, giving God a special thank you under her breath. Having her oldest friend still living in town made moving back more bearable. She'd have to ask Cassie if any of their other friends were around, one friend in particular.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to think about him. Once today had been too much. Her heart couldn't handle it.

"You okay?" Her mom's voice cooed from across the table.

Ally blinked the stinging sensation from her eyes. "I'm great, just a little hungry."

"Let's play a little catch up. That will take you mind off your stomach."

Not really. She'd lose her appetite, but she could only hold off her mother for so long. Sitting less than five feet away from her left Ally with no other choice than to talk.

"I like the watch, Mom." Grabbing the case, Ally unfastened the clasp. The metal cooled her wrist.

"Here, let me help you with that," her mother offered with outstretched hands.

Ally raised her arm, extending it over her plate. She stared at her wrist, watching her mother drawing the ends together until the clasp snapped shut.

"There you go." Her mom rotated her arm until the watch faced upright. "It looks great."

Moving her hand back to her side, Ally noticed the waiter walking back to the table. He sat her water down first, then her mother's drink. Ally's stomach wobbled at the sight of the orange garnish. In the center, a ruby red cherry floated above the ice. A Tom Collins. Her mother's favorite. It had to be.

Big brown eyes glared at the glass. Her mother pressed her lips tight, but not nearly as tight as her fist. She wiggled her fingers together before moving her hand below the table. A long breath passed before her mother shook her head.

"I'm sorry, young man. You made a mistake. I ordered a sweet tea."

"Oh," he replied. Ally noticed his eyes go to the tray where the order pad lay. "I'll get that changed for you. Pardon my mistake."

"It's fine," her mother managed a smile as she slid the coaster forward.

Ally studied her mom's face. Did the server really make a mistake or did old habits die hard?

As though she read her mind, her mother's eyes shot across the table. They roamed her face, lingering toward her mouth. "Are you thinking the worst of me?"

The crack in her mother's voice jarred Ally. She took a deep breath, allowing the scent of toasted shallots and butter to distract her. Food. Her comfort zone. Had it not been for tennis, she would have left home with a hefty waistline.

"Momma, you said things are different."

"You didn't answer my question."

Nor did Ally want to. What good would it do them to rehash this? It's not like they could jump in a time machine and change the past. They made mistakes. Ally survived. She moved away and made something of her life. Why couldn't they move forward now?

"We're making a fresh start, Mom. If you say things are different, I have to believe that. Otherwise, this won't work."

"I promise you, baby girl, I am different. If I could take back my transgressions, you know I would."

No, Ally didn't know. Many failed promises passed over those pink tinted lips, just like many hurtful words. She would have fared a physical beating better. Broken bones healed. Broken hearts didn't. No matter how much time passed, the ache inside her heart thrummed onward.

Deep down, Ally knew she wouldn't heal until she made peace with the past. If her mother was ready, who was Ally to discourage it? It's not like she had other people to turn to in Savannah, besides Cassie.

"You can't change what happened, Mom. All we can do is move forward. Don't go digging up bones."

"I'll dig up a cemetery full if it means you'll forgive me and allow me to be a part of your life, like I should have all along."

When Ally noticed her mother's lips tremble, she reached across the table to pat her hand. "It's a process, Momma. We'll get there."

Her mother gave her a tight smile and nodded. She slipped her hand from underneath Ally's, swiping at the wetness on her cheek.

A voice cleared from beside them. "Here you go, Ma'am. I'm sorry for the mixup."

The server placed a new coaster on the table before setting a glass of tea by her mother's plate. Her mother gave him a nod as she picked up the glass, taking a long swig.

"Your food will be out soon. Can I get either of you anything else?"

"No, thank you." Ally waited until he was out of hearing range before refocusing on her mom. "Let's play another version of catch up. How about you tell me what's new in the South?"

You could always count on a true southern woman to have a good dish of news to talk about, not that they were gossips. They were more like conversationalist. Add in life on an army base, and the chit-chatting women increased. Heck, she missed listening to the stories. She missed the southern hospitality even more.

"Do you remember Karen Sims from the base?"

Ally nodded, remembering her mother's closest friend.

"She and I joined a book club two months ago. We've only read a few books, but we like it so far."

"Glad to hear your reading again. Do you have room on the bookshelf for new books?"

The way her mother's lips curved upward eased the tension forming at Ally's temples. She placed her lips on the straw, enjoying the bitterness of the lemon water.

"That's the great thing about digital reading devices. They don't take up any room on the shelf."

Ally choked back the water ready to spew from her mouth. Had she heard her mother right? " _You_ have an eReader?"

Her mother's eyes drifted past her as she nodded. Ally turned in time to see the waiter stepping up to the table. A large, oval serving tray balanced on his shoulder as he spread out the serving stand.

They waited until he replaced the appetizer dishes with their entrée plates before continuing their conversation.

"I may be old, baby girl, but I refuse to be outdated. If I can tackle the Internet, I can handle an eReader."

Chuckling at her mother's sense of humor, the knots in her stomach loosened. She gazed down at the watch, noting the minute hand touching the six. They would make it through their first dinner without issues, and she'd finish in time to meet up with Cassie, who promised her a chance to unwind.

God, she needed to unwind.

The sweet scent of glazed salmon filled Ally's nose. She was starving, and the delicious smell was increasing her hunger pains. One she placed a piece of the fish in her mouth, the tangy goodness melted like butter on her tongue.

"So," her mother began while piercing her vegetable with a fork. "You'll never guess who I recognized at our book club."

Did her mother expect her to remember _all_ of her old friends from the base? The only reason she remembered Mrs. Sims is because they were neighbors.

Her mother's other friends had faded from her mind years ago. Or maybe she'd repressed those thoughts. Her brain had a way of storing old memories in a place where they couldn't haunt her.

"I give up," Ally teased. "Who did you recognize?"

"Bethany... Oh, what's her last name. Her husband is Michael."

Why did that name sound so familiar? Ally's father served with a Michael. Or was it Mitchell? No, it _was_ Michael, and he had a wife. Becky. Or maybe it was Bethany. Michael and Bethany McCabe. That sounded—oh god!

"Bethany McCabe? Isn't that..." she pressed her lips when her mother nodded.

"You remember their son don't you? What was his name...?"

Ally noticed her mother's mouth moving but once Jonah's name passed over her lips, every sound vanished. She sucked in a deep breath. Damn, she could use that glass of zinfandel about now.

# Chapter 3

The soft swoosh of passing cars filled Ally's ears as she hurried down the sidewalk. Time wasn't an issue, nor was it the reason for all the rushing. She'd never been late for anything a day in her life.

Nerves became the dirty little culprit responsible for her haste. Each step made her heart take an extra beat. Meeting with an old friend after many years of separation had a tendency to kick up the adrenalin.

At least she'd arrive early. That way, she and Cassie could get a good seat and catch up before the show started.

Exactly when had she thought moving back here would be such a great idea? Too much had changed during her absence. Or maybe she was the one that changed.

When someone lost everything important to them, it had a way of taking their life down a different path. Usually, it was one they would never choose. Had she not lost her father, maybe she would have remained in Savanna with Cassie and...

Ally couldn't think about Jonah right now. That O'Hara chick had it right about tomorrow being another day. Maybe she couldn't erase painful memories, but it didn't mean she would never find love. Yeah. She would deal with memories of Jonah later. Besides, her mom mentioned nothing about him living here. Why was she so eager to see him, anyway? It's not like he'd been the love of her life.

_Yeah. Right._

While she waited for the crosswalk sign to change, the rich scent of roasted coffee beans filtered out of the coffee shop on the corner. Her eyes drifted past her shoulder to the green and white coffee shop logo on the window. Thoughts of a tall, cinnamon, dolce latte made her mouth water.

Nope. She wasn't going inside. If she did, she'd be late. The long line at the register proved as much. There was no point in ruining her always-on-time record just to splurge on a cup of caffeine, something that wouldn't mix well with her frayed nerves, anyway.

Wiping her clammy hands on her jeans, she smoothed a wisp of hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear as best she could. How had she worked herself up into such a tizzy? It was Cassie, for Christ sakes. How much could she have changed after Ally left?

Squeaking breaks drew her attention back to the road. Cars slowed down for the yellow streetlight. She tapped her shoe against the edge of the curb, wishing she could have parked closer. At least she was making up for skipping her daily walk on her treadmill.

The crossing sign flashed not a moment too soon. Ally wasted no time crossing in front of the waiting cars. As she stepped onto the curb, she noticed a slender figure pacing back and forth in the distance. Her heart tightened. Forcing her legs to take each step a little faster, she hoped this meet-up wouldn't be as awkward as the one she left.

She stared at the woman's back, watching coppery strands dance against bare shoulders. Fingers hooked inside the belt loop of a snug fitting pair of jeans. Had they not kept in contact through social media, Ally may not have recognized Cassie, but there she stood in all her petite glory.

Ally's cheeks burned with anticipation. Should she hug her? Maybe she should clear her throat and wait to see Cassie's response to her. Another uncomfortable reconnection would be the worst way to end this day. Might as well make her presence known and get the weirdness over with. She held off on the hug and cleared her throat, waiting as Cassie turned to face her.

A twinge of hope filled her as Cassie's eyes twinkled for a moment. Thin brows folded over them quickly, choking Ally's breath from her lungs.

"What happened to you?"

Ally gazed down at her clothes. Did she spill something on herself at dinner, not realizing it? There didn't appear to be a stain on her neatly buttoned shirt or jeans. She met Cassie's eyes once more, dragging out the word, "Nothing."

Cassie fisted her hands on her hips. "You're half an hour late."

The hell she was. Bending her wrist, Ally's eyes fell to the watch. "No, I'm not. We have ten more minutes before the show starts."

"I was worried something had gone wrong at the restaurant but didn't want to interrupt in case it was the opposite." Cassie waved her hand as though dismissing her own thoughts. "Any who, you better pick up a new battery for that watch."

Ally shook her head, checking the face of the watch again.

"Really," Cassie said with a grin. "Check your phone."

Reaching to her back pocket, Ally pulled out her smartphone. She pressed the center key until the screen lit up. At the top, digitized numbers stared back at her.

8:30 PM.

How was that possible?

"Great," she huffed, throwing her hand in the air. "This is the first decent gift my mom gets me and it's already broken." She checked the watch once more before her hand fell to her side. "I am so sorry. Will they still seat us if we're late?"

"Nah," Cassie said with a shrug then leaned closer, pointing to the tickets in her hand. "It specifically says so on the tickets, along with a little spill about how it distracts the comedians."

The evening continued its downward spiral. First, she accuses her mother of drinking again. Now, she wasted the tickets her oldest friend scored from a radio station. Could she disappoint anyone else tonight?

"My first day back and I'm letting people down."

"Oh please," Cassie waved Ally's comment away. "It will take more than this to let me down. I'm just glad nothing bad happened with your mom."

Ally released a sigh. "Well, I wouldn't say that, but it's a conversation that requires a drink."

"Say no more." Cassie pulled at the string on Ally's sleeve. "There's a sweet little blues joint just down the street." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "I had a crappy day at work. Let's go blow off steam."

Ally smiled. Cassie hadn't changed. Her friend still had a way of helping her forget about the stress of dealing with her mother, just like she did all those years ago. The knot in her stomach dissipated.

"Liquor and music. What a great way to end this, how did you say it, crappy day?"

Cassie did her version of a happy dance before locking arms with Ally. "You're gonna love this place. It's laid back, the cocktails are perfect, and the men are good looking. You are still single, right?"

Single... definitely. Looking... no way in hell. Her life was complicated enough without adding a relationship to it. Nope. She had no time to think about a relationship, and no time to think about ones that never got off the ground.

Damn her mother. Why did she have to mention Jonah? Hadn't the t-shirt her roommate sent been punishment enough?

The gritty sound of a guitar captured Ally's attention the moment she stepped inside _Midnight Blues_ nightclub. Hues of green, red, and blue lit up the stage to the right of the bar. Trailing her eyes over the stage, she didn't recognize the band playing, but the sultry riffs made her want to join the crowded dance floor.

Instead, she followed Cassie to the bar, pulling out a stool as she slid across the plush cushion. Cassie waved at the bartender, a stocky man with tribal tattoos encircling well-defined biceps. He gave her a crooked smile, nodding his head in their direction.

Ally noticed the smile creeping across Cassie's lips. "Are you and the bartender friends?"

Cassie grinned. "Maybe. I come here often, and not just for the music or the liquor." Her eyes flitted back to the bartender who was now heading in their direction.

"My evening just got better." He acknowledged Cassie with a smile before lowering his gaze from her face to her breasts. He lingered a moment as he grabbed a glass from the rack above. "The usual, darlin'?"

"You know it, Mike."

Once Cassie winked at him, Mike's eyes landed on Ally. "And what are you drinking, sugar?"

Sugar? Darlin? Yes, she was definitely back in the South. Ally fought back a smile and met Cassie's gaze. "I'll have the same thing she's drinking."

"Manhattans it is." This time, Mike winked at Cassie. When he reached the three-tier shelf of assorted liquor bottles, he selected a few and went to work on their cocktails.

Ally eyed Cassie and stifled her laughter. The longer she waited for her friend to look her way, but harder Cassie stared at Mike. She had that glazed over look that most people got after staring at something intently.

Shaking her head, Ally focused on the stage. The dance floor, still packed with people, blocked her view of the band. Still, she couldn't escape the music nor refuse the way the guitar called to her. Rocking her shoulders side to side, she didn't give Mike a second glance when he sat her drink on the bar.

The slender glass stem fit between her fingers as she placed it to her lips. Cool liquid spilled into her mouth. Warmth caressed her tongue and throat. The sweet vermouth was a change from the zinfandel she normally drank, but she welcomed the change.

Cassie and Mike flirted as Ally slid off the barstool. She didn't step away, but the music called to her soul. The urge to dance grew stronger. She took another sip of the cocktail, swaying her hips to the beat of the drums. While she didn't recognize the song or the band, the music grabbed a hold of her, refusing to let go until her body played along.

"Wanna dance?" Cassie's voice sounded muffled. Ally wasn't sure if she'd asked her the question until Cassie peered at her. "Well?"

"Sorry," Ally laughed. "I thought you were talking to _Mike_."

Cassie tapped Ally's shoulder as she rolled her eyes. "Mike won't show off his moves on the dance floor."

"Really? Then where?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Cassie giggled into her glass and took a drink. Ally mimicked her movements, taking a bigger gulp of the cocktail. The warmth from earlier turned to a burn. It didn't just affect her mouth this time. Her entire body radiated with heat. The tension once pinching the muscles in her neck faded.

When the band switched songs, Cassie stepped in front of her, pulling on her arm. "Come on. Let's move this party to the dance floor."

Ally didn't know the song, but the beat was good. That's all she needed. A good beat, guitar riffs, and the buzz of alcohol.

Cassie led them to the edge of the dance floor. She slipped between the bodies, then back out, shaking to the music. Turning to gaze at Ally, her lips curled upward. A laugh ripped from Ally's chest as Cassie's brows wiggled in sync with her hips.

Bouncing her body to the beat, Cassie dipped lower and shook her hips. She grabbed Ally's hands, pulling her closer until both were moving to the music. Swaying from side to side, Ally noticed several pairs of eyes glued to them. Most belonged to curious men, but a few women looked their way too.

She cocked a brow at Cassie, but her friend shook her head. "Expect to get attention while we're here, especially when we get out there." Cassie's finger pointed toward the bodies packing the dance floor. "Guys love seeing two sexy chicks shaking their ass. And this song is _hot_... almost as hot as us."

Fighting back a snort, Ally rolled her eyes. Sexy? Hot? Her? Those words didn't belong in the same sentence, but whatever. She liked dancing.

Closing her eyes, she allowed the music to block out the thought of strange men staring at her. No man would keep her from having fun and she was definitely having fun. Finally.

The guitar worked its magic, drawing out a few extra hip shakes. She opened her eyes again, flashing Cassie a smile.

"Remember how we did it in high school?" Cassie asked.

The memory had Ally's body slowing until she finally stopped. How could she forget about their high school dances? They gave most of the football team a boner every time they stepped onto the floor.

Shaking her head at Cassie, Ally took another gulp of her drink, waiting until the burn coursed through her body. Cassie was beautiful and confident, two qualities Ally didn't see in herself. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention.

Cassie tugged her elbow. "It'll be over soon and then you'll be sorry."

Ally hesitated. It had been a long time since she'd been this reckless. She took a step back toward the bar, but Cassie came off the dance floor. One tug, then another, and she had them at the edge again.

"Bring your drink and come on," her friend insisted.

"But..."

It was useless to argue. Cassie wasn't having any of it. Ally gave up. She followed her friend into the throng of bodies, letting her own find the rhythm until both were back-to-back, dipping their hips to the beat. They swayed and shimmied until they reached the center of the dance floor.

Cassie was right about one thing. Men loved to watch two women dancing together. The few stares they received a minute ago multiplied. Between the alcohol and the lustful gazes, Ally's cheek burned hotter than the track lights above them. The more men stopped to stare, the bigger her smile grew.

Lord, what had her friend talked her into?

Flirting and teasing came naturally to Cassie. Ally though... she'd almost forgot how. A look here, a tip of the head there, and it came back to her. It had been too long since she had this much fun. As long as none of the onlookers got bold enough to approach them, or worse, try to bump and grind with them, she could do this all night.

One guy, just a few feet away, looked as though he had the intention of joining them. His body movements slowed while his eyes danced up and down Ally's body, making her feel naked.

When he winked at Ally and stepped closer, she looked toward the stage, hoping to deter him. The band's singer was in the zone, belting out the lyrics, eyes shut, head and body swaying in front of the microphone. It was hard to get a good look at his face, but something about him was familiar. Maybe she _had_ heard of this band before.

Her eyes moved to the bassist beside him. Though he faced the crowd, his eyes remained on his guitar, making it impossible to see his features. Up on a pedestal, the drummer rolled out a beat, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Ally couldn't see him either, mostly do to the light shining down on his face.

It was the other guitarist, the one playing the riffs that called to Ally's soul, that made her take a second glance. Bright eyes sparkled under the lighting and fixed on her. She held his gaze for a heartbeat then forced herself to look away. Something about him stuck a chord, just like it did when she studied the lead singer. Yet this sensation was powerful. Her belly fluttered the longer she stared up at him.

The glass met her lips as she took another sip of her drink and did her best to distract herself from looking his way again. The stronger the urge grew, the quicker she drank. The need outlasted the cocktail as the last sip of liquor burned down her throat. Tiny beads of sweat formed at the nape. She brushed her hair away, hoping to cool herself down, but it didn't.

Sensing eyes weighing on her, she turned toward the stage again. He was still staring. Dark brows knitted as his fingers slid across the fretboard. It was in that moment she swore he was issuing her a challenge.

After pressing her back against Cassie's, she dipped a little lower, flicking her hips with more force. Guitar guy moved his fingers faster.

So this _was_ a challenge. Fine. Mr. Handsome didn't know about her competitive streak. She'd win this game of seduction.

Ally rolled her shoulders and moved her hips in sync with his chords. He relaxed his brows, jabbing one upward. Was he taunting her?

She kept up with the increasing rhythm until her entire body shimmied. Guitar guy's nostrils flared. He focused on her body, lingering at her hips. Ally knew she had him when she noticed his jaw clenching.

Not backing down from the challenge, his fingers danced across the strings. He turned his broad shoulders until he completely faced her. Ally did the same.

Denim teased her palms when she placed her hands against her hips, giving them a few extra shakes for his benefit. His eyes fell to the same spot, making Ally's heart kick up a notch. This time, when she turned away, she searched for her friend. Cassie was looking at Mike, who'd walked to the edge of the dance floor to watch them. With arms folded across his chest, Ally knew the smile teasing his lips was for Cassie. Mike's eyes never turned to Ally, not that she wanted them on her, anyway.

She gave Cassie one last glance before gazing back to the stage. Tall, dark, and handsome had moved from his position near the amp. Standing just at the edge of the stage, he looked as though he could leap from it and land just a few feet from her.

The longer he stared at her, the harder it became to look at anything but him. She loved the way his dark curls brushed against his temples as he bobbed his head with the music and the way his shoulders curled in when he changed chords on his guitar. Even the way he squinted his eyes when hitting the harder notes sent her pulse racing.

But his smile... it intoxicated her more than anything she'd tasted inside that martini glass. The same smile showed off a cute little dimple in his right cheek...

When Ally met his eyes again, something inside them shifted. He looked older, wiser, more... familiar.

What was it about that dimple that jarred something in the back of her mind?

She slowed her movements, taking her hips from a full-blown shake to a gentle sway. The thump of her heart competed with the drums until the beats faded and all that remained was the twang of the guitar chords.

Dark brows pinched until his piercing eyes disappeared behind closed lids. The heat building in Ally's body waned. When had his attention become her soul desire? Why did she feel like she could explode if he didn't open his eyes and meet hers again?

Her stomach tightened into a perfect little knot just above her navel. Need pulsed inside her veins, the need to run up to the stage and demand him to look her in the eye, to tell her his name, to explain why she felt empty when she wasn't the center of his attention. No man had ever caused such a reaction in her heart.

But a boy had. Once. Years ago. Six years to be exact. In this town. It was the last place she saw him—the last place she put her heart on the line. That boy... he'd been more than just some guy she knew. He'd been her confident, her shoulder to cry on, her best friend, even more so than Cassie.

God, she missed him. She missed Jonah with every beat of her heart.

Jonah, with hair as black as night.

Jonah, with eyes as green as a granny smith apple.

Jonah, with a smile sweeter than a famous Georgia peach... with dimples.

Sweet Jesus...

No! It couldn't be Jonah. She would recognize him. Wouldn't she? He couldn't have changed this much in six years. This resulted from mother mentioning him earlier. There was no way this was Jonah McCabe. Nope. She refused to believe it.

Then he smiled at her again.

# Chapter 4

Jonah gripped the guitar's neck, sliding his fingers over the fretboard. The familiar feel of steel strings pressed into his skin, causing his lips to crook. Each note poured out of the resonating chamber toward the packed dance floor, bringing more bodies into view.

He'd forgotten how much he loved making a crowd move to the music. Playing gave him satisfaction.

His eyes drifted toward Theo as he belted out some lyrics. Guess his brother had been right in asking him to fill in for Jeff. Despite how much Jonah tried to fight it, a big part of him would always be a musician. Sound producing would never be as good as making the magic.

Theo gave him a knowing wink before grabbing the mic to sing the chorus. Switching chords, Jonah's focus shifted to the dance floor. He spotted two girls, maybe his age, grinding their hips in a rhythm that had every man in the bar staring. A twinge of sympathy filled him for the men who hadn't come alone. Most of them were getting death stares from their girlfriends, wives, whatever. Some even deflected slaps.

One poor guy suffered the worst. His significant other slapped him so hard he fell off his barstool. The way he stumbled when getting up said it had taken little to knock him on his butt. He had definitely passed his limit.

Gazing back at the centers of attention, he played riffs, hoping to gain a glance. Mainly from the brunette. Might as well have fun while he was here. God knows Theo would enjoy it.

Jonah couldn't quit staring at the two beauties. He remembered two other girls who could dance like that. They used to tease all the guys at their school dances, capturing their undivided attention. He would know.

But these girls... they couldn't be the same young woman. Not after the one left him years ago, broken-hearted, taking with her his last chance of happiness. Yet the more he watched these girls shake their hips, the more he wondered about the possibility.

No. It couldn't be. It was this town—all the memories it contained. There had been good ones, but the last few months he lived here... those memories outweighed the good.

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he stared at the women, wondering if they were the type to approach the band after the show. While he hadn't planned on sampling any of the local _flavors_ , the more the dark-haired honey shook her hips, the more he reconsidered.

She had paid no one a worthwhile amount of attention, but one of the fellow onlookers had a gleam in his eye like he stood a chance. Jonah didn't like it. He couldn't explain why he felt a pull toward the woman below, but he knew whatever the man had on his mind wasn't good. Not if Jonah wanted a chance to talk to her. He couldn't compete with a guy whose biceps doubled his.

Why did any of this matter? He wasn't interested in—

A set of green eyes fell on the stage. Beautiful eyes that caused something in his chest to snap. When he noticed her looking at Theo, a twinge of jealousy filled him. His little brother would get her attention. Few women could resist his ice-blue eyes or his jet black locks. Even if their hair was identical. Theo had the looks and the charisma. This woman probably came to see him.

Her eyes shifted again, to Jesse and his bass. They lingered a moment before moving to Allen, who had zoned into his drums so much, he knew no one existed.

Then her eyes were on him.

His next breath caught in his chest. It burned with all the intensity the fire in her eyes held. The look pulled at his mind, nagging it with some instance of recognition. Until she looked away.

Hiding behind the rim of her glass, she took a sip, averting his gaze. The sip turned into a gulp. And then another. Every time he thought she'd meet his eyes, the cocktail glass prevented it. He didn't understand why he needed her to look at him, or why a surge of happiness washed over him when the glass emptied.

She still hadn't looked his way. He had to change that. The need for her to stare at him overcame him as did the urge to jump off stage and rush to her side. And just when he thought he couldn't wait a second longer, he had her attention again.

He slid his fingers over the fretboard, taking the rhythm to a funkier beat. She seemed to like it. The way her lips hinted to a smile was all the proof he needed. She pressed her back against her friend's, dipping lower.

Each riff he gave her had her body grooving that much faster. God, she had moves. Each shimmy and shake increased his need to play faster. And he did.

Telling himself to close his mouth, he took a step in front of the amp. His body heated at the thought of seeing her dance in private. Just how low could she go? He'd love to find out. No girl had affected him like this since...

Shit!

It couldn't be her. No way possible. She was somewhere up north, living out her dreams the last he'd heard. This woman in front of him—she had to be a lookalike.

Shutting his eyes, he lost himself in the music, wishing like hell he could forget about _her_ and focus on the beauty in front of him. His mind refused to cooperate. All thoughts went to the woman who'd left his heart in a mess. Ally Jacobs.

Stealing a glance below, he wondered if her look-alike could help him forget. He raked her body with his eyes, not doubting for a second she'd consume his every thought as he lay beneath her. He imagined his hands pressed to her hips, just like hers were at the moment. He could almost feel the way she would roll her hips against his.

Creeping closer to the edge of the stage, he stared at the woman as she faced her friend. He had to get a closer look. Had to know for sure if his mind was playing tricks on him because every passing second confirmed what he wanted to deny. That the ghost of his past had returned.

Switching chords, he waited for her eyes to return to him.

When she did as he hoped, he smiled. Then her lips curled upward, making every cell in his body explode. He wouldn't believe it until he talked to her, but he couldn't deny the ache in his gut. His tormenter was back, donning a tight pair of jeans and a snug shirt—everything he needed to remind him of the misery she'd left him in. He should have recognized her body. God knows he'd stared at it for many years.

Of all the people to run into tonight, it had to be her. He'd find out for sure after the show. Maybe he would get lucky enough to do the things he always wanted then leave her here and head back to L.A.

No. Who was he kidding? He could never cause her the pain that ate at him when she left. Even if this were Ally, he'd never get the chance to make love to her. Still, he wanted to know why she was back in Savannah, flirting with him. She recognized him, hadn't she?

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his heart. Another smile from her and he'd be jumping off the stage. God, he was about to make an ass out of himself, even if he waited until after the show. Screw it. It wouldn't be the first time.

Returning the same lip curl she'd given him earlier, he couldn't help notice the way her eyes fixed on him. Or the way her body slowed.

The longer she stared at him, the more her brows pinched. Her eyes moved down his body, doing a quick scan before returning to his eyes. Those lips he was dying to taste parted. Then he realized the truth of the matter. Ally hadn't recognized him. Not until this moment.

He wondered if her heart was beating as fast as his. Did she want to talk to him as bad as he did her? The set couldn't end fast enough.

Definitely not fast enough.

Ally turned and pushed through the crowd, disappearing from his sight.

The bathroom door smacked against the wall of the ladies' room. As loud as the sound echoed, it must have busted through the drywall. Not that Ally cared at the moment. Fighting the urge to hold down her dinner became a priority.

This couldn't be happening—running into Jonah. She swore Cassie told her he moved. Either she was wrong or had the worst luck in the world. Six feet of toned muscles stood up on stage, proving otherwise. All sixty inches made her body warm in ways it hadn't in far too long, not even with her last relationship.

Even worse, she'd danced for him, playing some twisted game of seduction. How long had he known it was her? Each time their eyes met his burned her to the core. Maybe he'd meant to have that effect her. All of this was still a game to him. That's why he flirted with her the way he did. He hadn't finished screwing with her head.

Fire rose in her cheeks. She made for the stall, shutting the door behind her before hovering over the toilet. How could six years change a person so much? Had she recognized him from the get-go, she wouldn't be in this position.

Pressing her hands to either side of the walls, she drew in a few breaths, noting the minty scent of the bathroom deodorizer. If her stomach would stop rolling, she'd go to the sink to splash water on her face. The more she thought about what lay ahead of her when she left this room, the more the room shifted.

The cool metal of the door met her back as she leaned into it. At least it brought relief to her overheated body. She'd feel even better if she could kick off her heels and plant her feet on solid ground.

One quick glance toward the floor proved that need would wait until she made it home. It was where she needed to go as soon as possible.

Maybe if she left soon enough, she wouldn't have to risk running into Jonah. He was still on stage, performing. The band started another song when she arrived at the bathroom door. The chance of escaping unnoticed gave her a small dose of hope.

She needed to find Cassie.

Digging her cell from her back pocket, she tapped the screen, pulling up the last text from her friend. Four words into the text, music filtered into the bathroom, followed by a creaking hinge.

"Ally? Are you in here?"

"Yeah." The words sounded shakier than Ally wanted. Keeping her back against the door, the lock shimmied against her arm.

"Hey," Cassie's voice cooed to her from the other side of the stall. "Are you okay?"

"Having the time of my life," Ally snorted. Wasn't it every girl's dream to run into the guy who stole her heart? She hadn't only run into him. She gave him the sexiest dance she'd ever given anyone in her life.

"I saw what happened. Actually, Mike noticed something was going on first. By the time I tuned in, you'd stopped dancing." Cassie jiggled the knob again, waiting for Ally to open the door. When she finally did, brown eyes stared back at her. "Ally, I'm so sorry. I did not know Jonah would be here. The last I heard, he'd moved to L.A."

Ally waved away her apology as she advanced toward the sink. "It's okay, Cass. I know you wouldn't do this on purpose. I'm sorry I'm ruining our night."

"You're not ruining my night. I've had a blast. If it has to end so be it. There will be plenty more nights to party."

Twisting the sink handles, Ally cupped water in her hand, splashing the cool liquid onto her face. It helped extinguish the fire in her cheeks, but the flame inside her heart raged on.

Cassie joined her, patting her back as both looked at their reflections. "Listen. Take a few minutes to compose yourself. I'll go pay for our drinks and call a cab. Neither of us should drive. Mike's Manhattan's are extra potent. Meet me at the bar in ten minutes and we'll get out of here."

"Sounds good," Ally nodded, turning the faucet off. "But at least let me pay for the drinks."

Coppery hair brushed against creamy shoulders with each shake of Cassie's head. "No way. It's my treat. Welcome home, Ally."

Yeah. Welcome back to where the heartache she'd carried with her for the last six years began. When had she thought moving back here would be such a great idea? She should have known she'd run into Jonah. This was his home whether he lived here. If he lived in L.A., why in the hell had he shown up in town at the same time she moved back?

Slumping her shoulders, she trailed her hand against the edge of the counter, wishing she could crawl under a rock. Anger pulsed within her heart. She shouldn't allow him to affect her like this after years of telling herself she'd moved on. What a lie. Seeing him again brought back every single second of their time together. She had adored him as a friend for many years, but those feelings changed after he'd played for her one night. The same night, the tug toward Jonah began.

Releasing a sigh, she focused on Cassie, tucking the thoughts away. "I shouldn't be this upset."

"Yeah, you should. I know what Jonah meant to you, Ally. I wish you would have told him the truth before you left."

"I tried. He didn't want to hear it. Not when he had plans to leave."

Cassie turned to face her, gripping her shoulders as she gave her a tiny shake. "He wouldn't have left. I know if you would have told—"

"Don't go there, Cassie." Ally broke free from her grasp, refocusing on their reflections.

"Oh, I'm going there, and then back again." Cassie tapped her shoulder until she returned her gaze. "If Jonah knew the truth, you wouldn't be hiding out in the woman's bathroom right now. You and Jonah would be at home, happily married, raising a family and enjoying life."

"Whatever, Cass. Jonah would have grown restless with me. Music meant that much to him. His brother would have called with promises of fame and fortune. He would have left."

"You didn't see the way he looked at you over the years."

Blowing out a deep breath, Ally pushed away from the counter. She loved that Cassie wanted to make her feel better, but reliving the past wasn't helping. "Your theory is flawed. If he'd cared about me, he wouldn't have avoided my kiss."

Cassie chewed on her lip, as though she wanted to keep arguing the point, but the door swung open again. Two girls came walking in, giggling about something Ally couldn't care less about. Her eyes moved back to Cassie.

With a tight-lipped smile, she gave Ally a nod and turned toward the door. "We can argue the point another time. I will pay for our drinks and get our cab. See you in a few."

Once Cassie disappeared behind the door, Ally gazed at her watch, ready to time her wait. The longer she stayed in the bathroom, the less chance she had of running into Jonah.

No matter how much she swore she'd never talk to him again, deep down she knew she couldn't refuse him. Not if he approached her. Then she'd be a sitting target for him to shoot down once the moment arrived. God knows he did before.

Another round of giggles came from the stall she exited. She forgot about the girls walking in. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore their insistent chuckles, or the words flowing from their mouths as they chatted back and forth.

"The singer is definitely a total babe. I saw him looking at you."

"Mm, Theo McCabe. I'm hooking up with his fine ass tonight. I'm sure we can get his brother to tag along."

"That's his brother playing guitar?"

More words drifted from the stalls, but Ally couldn't hear them over her pounding heart. Guess she wasn't the only person who'd caught Jonah's eye tonight.

She couldn't stand around and listen to this.

Gazing down at her watch, she noticed she had another minute or two until she met with Cassie. Guess she'd surprise her friend and arrive a little early. Maybe the cab would, too.

As the sound of rushing water came from the stalls, Ally turned for the door, pulling it open as she stepped through the threshold. A short journey down the hall brought her back to the edge of the bar—and just a few feet away from Jonah.

Her heart had never raced as fast as it did the moment their eyes met or when she ran toward the red exit sign at the back of the bar.

# Chapter 5

A warm breezed lifted Ally's hair from her shoulders as she stepped outside the bar. Gazing around at the nearby buildings, she fought to steady her breath. She had to find a way out of here before Jonah came looking for her.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't.

Eyeing the left side of the alley, she noticed a group of people standing near the dumpsters. Huddled close together, the mixture of men and women gave her a long stare down before finally turning back to each other. She noticed them exchanging something between them. Then the skunky scent of marijuana filled her nose.

Stoners.

Her eyes moved past the group, further down the tiny road parallel to the building she exited. A few more joining buildings would make for a long walk around to the front. Maybe she'd have better luck going to her right.

The door creaked behind her, sending her heart into a tizzy. Silent prayers passed over her lips. Hopefully, it was Cassie coming to tell her the cab had arrived. Or maybe someone else from the bar wanted to hit the joint being passed between the group.

"Ally?" A low, husky voice finally filled her ears.

Damn... Just the person she hoped it _wouldn't_ be.

A cautious turn had her facing Jonah. She feigned a smile for him, all while dying inside. He smelled sweet, like citrus with a hint of spice. The familiar scent teased her nose, reminding her of all the times she cried on his shoulder when she thought about her dad.

"Jonah? What a surprise it is to see you. It's been—"

"Six years." How nice of him to remember. "I almost didn't recognize you. You look great, Ally."

Laughter exploded from the group behind, drawing his attention toward them, but Ally couldn't think about anything other than the words she heard. Maybe he hadn't recognized her like she thought. Then again, maybe this was part of his game—to pretend like he didn't know it was her so she wouldn't know he had been seducing her with his eyes.

"What brings you back home?" He asked, his eyes still focused on the group near the dumpsters.

She sucked in a deep breath, not ready to give him every detail of her life. "I moved back this week." Pressing her lips together, she stopped herself from revealing how close she lived to his old house. If he still lived in the area, he'd find out soon enough. "What about you? Is Savannah still home?"

Lime green eyes locked with hers. A twinkle of humor played within them and the side of his mouth as it crooked. "Savannah will always be home, but no. I don't live here anymore. I came back to help Theo."

The Fates hated her. Why else had this happened? The odds of them running into each other, under such circumstances, should have been slim. Yet here there stood, a mere foot away from each other. At least he'd be leaving soon. Probably after the show.

"Are you guys heading out after this gig?"

He took a few steps toward the outer wall, leaning his back against it as he tucked his hands in his pockets. "No. Well, I shouldn't even be here right now. I would have left this afternoon, but another opportunity presented itself, so I'm staying until the fifteenth."

Ally couldn't help wonder if she were this _other opportunity_. Had he stuck around to play with her heart more? As if he hadn't done enough damage six years ago.

"Is this your last stop on your tour?"

His brow creased as he stared at her. "Um, I'm not on—oh, wait a minute. You think..." He chuckled. "I left Theo's band almost a year after you left. I'm actually a sound producer, now. Long story on how that happened, but that's what led me to L.A."

"Oh." Ally couldn't muster anything else. Curiosity took hold. Music meant the world to Jonah. What would make him want to give that up to produce?

She shouldn't care. The more she learned about him, the harder it would be to forget about him once he left. He would leave, and if she allowed it, he would break her heart again.

The tension between them increased the longer they stared at each other in silence. Guess this turned just as awkward for him. Good. Maybe he would say his goodbyes and leave her in peace.

He cleared his throat, shifting his stance to the other foot. The wall continued to support him while he gawked at her. "Well, since I'm in town for another week..." Here it came. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go—"

Metal smacked against the concrete as a woman came running out the door. Not just any woman. Cassie.

"God, there you are!" She made her way to Ally, not acknowledging Jonah's presence. "What are you doing out here? I thought you were waiting in the bathroom so you could avoid—"

Ally gazed back at Jonah just as Cassie's eyes landed on him. Her friend hesitated, giving him a look-over before turning back to Ally. "Oops." Was that a smile trying to form on her lips? "Am I interrupting?"

Sweet god, this wasn't happening. She prayed she'd wake up soon and learn this had been a nightmare.

"You're not interrupting, Cass. I'm sorry I'm late."

The bridge of Cassie's nose crinkled. "Late? Sweetie, I came to check on you. Five minutes early."

Had Cassie downed another Manhattan? She was drunk if she thought she came back early.

"Cass, you said to meet five minutes ago. You're not early." Did they really have to keep rehashing this in front of Jonah, especially the part about her waiting in the bathroom?

She laughed to herself. Waiting... more like hiding.

"You should have timed yourself. I came back early."

"I did time it," Ally growled. "I looked at my watch the minute you stepped out the door."

"Is that right?" Cassie gave Jonah one more glance before crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you use your phone?"

"No. I said I used my watch."

Cassie stepped closer, wrapping her hand around Ally's wrist. Pointing to the watch with her other hand, her brow shot to the sky. "You timed yourself on this thing after you were late for the comedy show?"

Another wave of heat bit at Ally's cheeks. Guess the watch her mother gave her really was junk. Great. First thing in the morning, she'd ask her mom where she bought the watch. Then she'd go demand a replacement or a refund.

"How long before the cab gets here?"

Cassie parted her lips to answer, but not before Jonah pushed off the wall. "You're leaving already? It's still early."

Ally swallowed hard, hoping like hell he wouldn't flash her those puppy eyes. He used to do the same thing whenever he wanted something, like stay out late or rob her mom's liquor cabinet. She didn't mind the latter since it prevented her mother from drinking.

"I'm sorry, Jonah, but I have somewhere to be in the morning. I need sleep." Her eyes met back with Cassie's, noting the way her friend pursed her lips. Would she expose the truth?

"Tomorrow is Saturday," Jonah grumbled. "What could you possibly... You know what? It's none of my business."

Maybe it was the darkness of the alley they stood in or the shadows the nearby streetlight cast across his face, but for a moment, Ally thought she had seen a genuine look of disappointment in his eyes.

She didn't get the chance to find out, either. The door swung open once more, revealing another face that was as familiar as Jonah's. Theo McCabe.

"Hey Jonah, we're gonna—whoa." He stopped short of the doorway, his eyes glued to the woman on Ally's left. "Cassie? Cassie Clarke?"

"Theo McCabe. Long time, no see."

"You ain't lying," Theo chuckled. He couldn't take his eyes off of Cassie. His childhood crush on her hadn't faded. Not with the way his eyes roamed every inch of her before shifting to Ally. It took a second, but his eyes widen a little. "This is an all-around blast from the past. Holy shit."

Good to know someone found humor in their awkwardness. Ally wished she could.

"So, ladies. What are you doing after the show?" Theo continued. His focus shifted back to Cassie, who to Ally's surprise, seemed to enjoy Theo's attention.

"We're waiting on a cab. Ally has to be up early tomorrow." Thankfully, Cassie kept up the ruse, though it cost Ally a you-owe-me-big look. "Maybe whenever you guys come back to town."

"Oh, I'll be here for two weeks." Theo's cheesy grin had Ally wanting to laugh, at least until he continued, "Jonah's leaving the week after next, but he'll be back. Should we call you to set something up before he leaves?"

"Why don't you give me _your_ number? I'll check back with you."

"I hope so," Theo mumbled, waiting for Cassie to record his number in her contact list.

Ally glanced back at Jonah. The somberness hadn't left his face, nor had his eyes left hers. Was it part of his game to play the loves struck guy who desperately hoped for a chance to be with her?

Like she would ever fall for that.

Just as Cassie finished punching in Theo's number, the back door to the bar opened once more. Mike stood there eyeing them, especially Theo, before facing Cassie. "Your cab's out front."

"Thanks, Mike." Cassie winked. She turned to Ally, tugging on her shirtsleeve. "Come on. Let's get you home."

"I'm right behind you."

She'd almost made it to the door when Jonah stepped in front of her. He reached in his pocket, pulling out a card before handing it to her. "My cell is on here. If you want to get together before I leave..." His glanced at her hand, waiting for her to take the card. When she did, he met her gaze once more. "It was good seeing you, Ally."

Jonah plopped down on the bed in his hotel suite, enjoying the cool, crispness of the sheets. The buzz of alcohol left the room swaying when he closed his eyes. He knew he should have stopped after the eighth shot. It was Theo who talked him into hitting another bar once they finished the set at _Midnight Blues._

He couldn't place all the blame on his brother or the few friends they ran into. Seeing Ally tonight made it easier to kick back each shot, especially when the thought of her dancing played through his mind.

Damn.

As if she wasn't beautiful enough the last time he saw her, the last six years had molded her into a knockout. She was five-foot-five inches of mouth-watering lips, curvaceous hips, and legs that stretched forever.

What he wouldn't give to feel those legs wrapped around his waist...

Reopening his eyes, he cursed himself for thinking about her again. This is how he made it to eight shots. He couldn't do anything but fantasize about her, just like he did years ago.

So she'd moved back to Savannah. Figures. Too bad she did it five years too late.

He had given her his business card as if she would call him. She probably threw it away as soon as she arrived home. He didn't doubt that Cassie deleted Theo's number too.

Love struck idiot. Hell, they both were. He couldn't allow Ally under his skin or close to his heart.

Gripping the sheets beneath him, he groaned as loud as he could. He should have stuck to his original plan—turn on the charm and convince her to take him to her place where he could live out every fantasy he'd ever had about her. Then he could have left later that night and never spoke to her again.

The thought of her naked body pressed to his made his dick jump. Did he honestly think he could walk away from the sight of her curled up beside him?

He had to try. If not, he'd lose his heart in Savannah again.

# Chapter 6

A sultry breeze blew wisps of hair from Ally's neck. Not even the wind could provide relief from the scorching sun beating down from above. She shielded her eyes, taking in the brick buildings of Whitaker Street's Historic District.

Beads of sweat spilled over her hand from the sweet tea clutched inside. She placed the straw to her lips, eager to taste the sugary goodness but finding a watered-down version instead.

At least the cup was still cool. She pressed it to her forehead, fighting back exhaustion. The heat—it was the beauty of living in the South. Who needed a sauna? Savannah summers brought about the same effect.

Taking one last sip of her watered-down tea, she tossed the cup in a trashcan before turning the corner at Broughton Street. Her eyes trailed across a new set of shops eager for her patronage. Not that she had time. Literally. She had to find the antique store where her mother purchased the watch before her lunch break ended. Either they would fix it, give her a new one, or refund her mom's money.

As Ally stood near the curb, she waited for the do-not-walk sign to switch. The words no longer lit up the sign. Instead, a red hand glared back at her. She counted six cars passing by before the traffic light turned red.

Once the stickman lit up the crossing sign, Ally stepped off the curb. She passed a red sports car, each step she took in perfect rhythm with the bass booming from the car. Although the name of the artist escaped her, she recognized the song. The longer she listened, the more she wanted shimmy and shake. She did plenty of that over the weekend.

Her cheeks burned at the thought.

Stepping up on the sidewalk, she brushed past other people walking down the street. Her mind focused on Jonah. Neither of them had taken their eyes off each other. His guitar playing brought her body to life as did the attention he gave her. She wished he hadn't given her his business card. Now he would expect her call.

Meeting up with him would lead down a road she couldn't travel because that road had too many twists and turns. It would end up taking her over the edge.

A car horn honked in passing, startling Ally. Between the consuming thoughts of Jonah and the threat of heat exhaustion, she turned toward the first door she saw. Maybe a change of scenery would get her back in perspective or at least save her a trip to the hospital. A house in Alaska sounded like a piece of heaven at the moment.

The bell atop the oak door jingled to life. Her eyes moved up, noting the vintage sign that hung above. The words _Mystique Antiques_ stared back at her. Thank goodness! She had found the shop.

Only a foot inside the door, the air from a nearby vent swept over her face. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the way it cooled her damp blouse. Even the dusty scent of aged merchandise smelled better than the scent of skin baking in the Savannah sun.

She walked around the store, glimpsing at racks of used items that most folks called 'antique'. A set of Pickard china caught her eye. She studied the set before reminding herself why she'd come.

Passing a mahogany grandfather clock, a shelf full of vintage handbags competed with the rack of silk scarves for her attention. The scarves won her over. She rubbed the material between her fingers, wondering if her mother would wear such a thing.

She released the item, continuing her journey toward the register.

Once she reached it, she noticed an older woman standing behind a glass counter. Her lips curled, stressing the lines around her mouth. Bright eyes twinkled under the light as Ally approached.

"Is there something I can help you with, dear?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then adjusted the clip that held her silver strands above her neck.

"Yes, ma'am. I hope so." Ally didn't know the woman from the next Joe Schmoe she crossed on the street, but something about the lady's presence seemed comforting.

"Please, call me Twila."

Nodding, Ally unclasped the watch on her wrist. She set the item on the counter, pushing it toward Twila. "My mother bought this watch from you a week ago. She gave it as a birthday gift, but I think it's broken."

A crease formed between Twila's brows. "Oh goodness. What seems to be the problem?"

The more Ally stared at the sweet woman, the less angry she grew about the watch. "It keeps losing time. I've been late meeting a friend and too early for another meeting. I thought maybe it was the battery, but I couldn't figure out how to change it."

Twila's fingers curled around the watch as she brought it closer to her face. "Oh yes, I remember this watch. It has quite a story attached to it."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Forgive me. I'm a history buff. All the items in my store have an interesting story behind them. Take this watch for instance. It predates the Civil War."

No wonder it wasn't working.

"Wow," Ally chuckled. "I didn't know it was that antique."

Nodding her head, Twila leaned her elbows on the counter, turning the piece in her hands. "Wristwatches weren't popular until the 1920s. But they've existed since the late 1500s. This watch belonged Abigail Hamilton, the daughter of a prominent family in Atlanta. From what I've researched, she received the watch as a gift from an unknown sender. There was a note attached that said, _the heart does not see through blind eyes. Only the mind. Time matters not_."

A chill ran up Ally's spine. Maybe she received a haunted watch, and the ghost wanted to screw with everyone else since time no longer mattered to it.

"That's kind of creepy."

"Oh, the story gets more strange," Twila chuckled, gazing back across the counter at Ally. "Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton never found the person who sent the gift. Then to make matters worse, their daughter went missing six years later."

Ally's stomach knotted. Her mother had gifted her the watch of a dead woman.

"You're right. That is strange. Did they ever find her?"

Pushing off the counter, Twila's brows rose higher. "Funny you should ask. In the '70s, a local painter received a lot of recognition for his paintings. When a local historian heard about him, she went to see his work and nearly fainted."

It was Ally who leaned on the glass counter this time. She didn't realize it until the heat of the lights below warmed her arms. "Dare I ask why she almost fainted?"

"Yes. It would be a pointless story if you didn't." Twila smiled. "All the paintings on display were of a woman the artist called his muse, but the historian recognized her as Abigail Hamilton."

The news had Ally hanging on to every last word passing through Twila's lips. "How is that possible? Was he lying about not knowing who she was?"

"Not at all." Twila gazed at the watch. She stroked the face as though it had carried her away on some mystical journey. More like a mystical tale, one Ally found hard to believe but interesting just the same.

"So was it a coincidence he painted this woman's picture?"

"One would think. Because short of a picture owned by a museum in Atlanta, there were no other photos of the young woman. When the house burned down during Sherman's invasion, the family lost their portraits. The only one that survived came from a great aunt who had it made when Abagail came to see her a few months before she disappeared. This aunt lived in Massachusetts."

"I don't get it," Ally said, shaking her head as her eyes fell to the watch in Twila's hand. "How could he paint a picture of a woman who lived a century before he did?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Twila continued to flip the watch, giving it a good look over. "No one knows for sure, but a year later, the man went to see the historian, again. He brought his new bride with him. A woman he met just a few weeks after the historian saw the paintings. Guess who she looked like."

"Abigail?" Ally asked, pushing away from the counter.

Twila nodded. "Yes, and she was wearing the same watch that disappeared when Miss Hamilton did."

What Twila insinuated couldn't be possible. Not logically. Yet something about the story had Ally questioning its authenticity.

Ally wasn't sure she could keep the watch even if Twila found nothing wrong with it. Its history was creepy.

A band of keys jingled against the clerk's wrist as she grabbed her glasses from the top of her head. They sat on the bridge of her nose while her eyes peered through them, bringing the watch closer to her face.

"I see what the problem is." A twinge of hope beat through Ally's heart. Maybe she would get a refund. As Twila stretched her arms toward Ally, she pointed toward the side of the watch. "This is mechanical, sweetheart. Have you been winding it?"

Closing her eyes, Ally released a sigh. Darn it. She hadn't thought about that. Now she looked like an idiot. "No, ma'am. I have not."

Guess that meant she had to keep the watch. Oh well. It would make for a good conversation piece at office parties.

Yippie...

Twila raised her hand a little, offering the watch to Ally. "You should wind it every day. Mornings are best."

Slipping the watch over her wrist, Ally clasped it shut, trying to avoid Twila's eyes. Thank God she wasn't rude to the woman. Now she had a working birthday gift _and_ a historical piece to show off. Her mother would be happy too. Ally hadn't missed the crack in her voice when they first spoke, this morning.

"I appreciate all the help, and the history lesson. I should probably get going. Do I owe you anything for fixing the watch?"

"You can't fix something that's not broken. There's no charge. You weren't aware of the history. True mechanical watches aren't common anymore. Now you know more about the watch. You'll enjoy your gift."

Perfect. The watch hadn't broken. Ally wished she could say the same about more things in her life, like her relationship with her mother or her friendship with Jonah. Too bad Twila couldn't fix those things.

Nothing could. Not even time.

Yanking her cell phone from her purse, Ally gazed down at the device, reading Cassie's latest text.

_I think we should do it. What would it hurt? We can behave._

She twisted the handle on Mystique Antique's door, hesitating in the doorway when the sweltering heat swarmed every inch of her skin. She brought up her keypad, trying to come up with a witty response for Cassie.

Her friend had lost her mind. No way would she go on a double date with her and Theo. Especially knowing who would be her date. She hadn't accepted that Cassie wanted to go out with Theo. Then again, she used to love teasing him when they were younger. Theo didn't mind. He would have gone to hell and back if Cassie had asked.

Why couldn't Jonah have felt—

Ally's feet shifted before her head cracked into a hard surface. Dazed by the abrupt stop, her body teetered before making its way toward the ground. Then the blurry scene around her wavered. She hadn't hit the ground. Instead, she was on her feet. Warmth caressed her arms as words filled her ears.

"I'm so sorry!" The man apologized. "I was sending a text and didn't see—Ally? Shit! Ally, are you okay?"

Struggling to focus her eyes, Ally found comfort in the voice speaking to her. Jonah. It had to be. While his voice had deepened over the years, the roughness hadn't disappeared. God did it sound sexy as hell.

She blinked a couple times, clearing the fogginess from her eyes. Then she found Jonah. A gasp left her mouth when she saw the crease in his forehead deepen. His eyes danced over her face as he reached for her head.

Before he could make contact, she stepped back, waving him away. "I'm fine. You caught me off guard. What are you doing here?" Had he followed her? Why else would they be on the same street in a city this big, on Tuesday afternoon?

"I had to go _shopping_." He pointed to the bags near his feet. Ally noted the navy blue shirt in one bag. Jeans hid in another. "I hate shopping for clothes, but I didn't pack enough stuff for my trip. Didn't think I'd be here this long." Their eyes met again as his lips spread into a smile. "But I'm glad I did. I would have missed the chance to see you."

God, he knew all the right words to say to leave a woman wanting more—needing more. Then, when she was ready to give everything to him, he left her hanging to pursue his own dreams.

At least he had with her. Who knows how many others since they'd parted ways.

Damn him. She couldn't fall for his games again.

"You sure are a smooth talker, Jonah. You haven't lost your touch with that."

Humor lit up his eyes. Guess he didn't realize she'd just insulted him.

"Yeah? Well, it's not intentional. I assure you. When I first saw you the other night, I couldn't have talked to you even if I weren't performing. Not without stuttering. You blew me away."

"You shouldn't say things like that," she grumbled, gazing down at the sidewalk. She scraped her shoe against the concrete, wishing he would leave her alone. "I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't appreciate you giving your number to a woman from your past."

"You're right." He sighed.

Her head snapped in his direction. It was good that truth was out. Now he would stop flirting and leave her alone.

"My girlfriend would get upset... if I _had_ a girlfriend. You're not just a woman from my past, anyway. You were my friend—my best friend."

Biting her lip, she fought back the tears forming in her eyes. No way would she allow him to keep screwing with her. This ended, now.

Wisps of hair brushed her neck as she shook her head. She stepped around him, making her way down the street, bypassing a couple shops before he caught up to her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to work, Jonah."

"Why? What did I say?"

"I'm not taking this trip down memory lane with you," she snapped, picking up the pace. The new speed didn't faze Jonah. He kept at her side, dodging a newspaper stand as they continued down the street. Each step she took, he matched. Glancing at him, she hated seeing his scrunched-up face. A mixture of confusion and pain filled each crease.

"What did I ever do to you?"

Jonah put a foot of distance between them. Good. She needed to get as far away from him as she could. How could he even ask her that question?

"Forget it, Jonah, it's nothing. I don't have time to stand around and reminisce. I have a meeting in an hour. One I can't be late for."

She turned to walk away again, but Jonah's fingers wrapped around her waist. Stumbling back into him, he wrapped her in his arm. A surge of fire filled Ally's face. It didn't stop there. It traveled down her chest, tingling her breasts, tickling her belly, then making made its final plunge toward her thighs.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stared into the sexiest pair of eyes she'd ever seen. They were as green as a granny smith apple. A soft moan slipped from her mouth when he squeezed her closer. Her eyes fell lower, to his lips. The heat of his breath caressed her cheek, sending a fruity scent with it. If she leaned another inch closer, their lips would meet. Then she'd be nothing but a big pile of mush in Jonah's arms.

He must have sensed her tension. Helping her right herself, he took a step back, but he hadn't released her from his grip.

"Look, I know the last time we saw each other, we didn't end things well. I can't take back what happened, Ally, but I'd like for us to be friends, again. That's why I told you to call. All I want to do is catch up."

Guilt wavered in Ally's heart. Maybe she'd been wrong. He hadn't stayed in Savannah to mess with her, and he honestly wanted to be her friend, just like he had been years ago. But could she do it? Things had changed between them. Even before they'd moved away, she'd fallen for him. He was the one who didn't want a relationship with her. Even if she agreed to be his friend, he'd eventually want to settle down. She couldn't handle seeing him with another woman.

"We're different people now, Jonah. We can't pick up where we left off."

"I know and I'm not asking you, too." He hesitated as a group of people passed. When the last person went by, he reached for her hands, cupping them in his. "Our friendship built over the years. I think it could again."

Yeah, they'd work hard at that each time he came in from L.A. How could they rebuild their friendship with him gone all the time? Friends grew closer because they hung out, shared hopes, dreams, even their fears. She couldn't reconnect with him if he was never around.

"Whatever you're telling yourself, don't." His voice sounded shaky. He even cleared it before speaking again. "Please, just hear me out. I'd like to take you to dinner on Friday. Not on a date, but just to hang out. I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

Ally parted her lips to refuse him, then snapped them shut. There was no point in arguing. Jonah had given her the puppy eyes—her greatest weakness.

Damn him.

She exhaled, slumping her shoulders as she offered him a smile. "Okay, I'll go. What time should I meet you?"

"I can pick you up."

It was exactly what she wanted to avoid. Screw it. She'd agreed to go to dinner with him. What would it hurt for him to know where she lived? He'd find out, anyway.

Scratch that. As soon as he visited his parents, he'd know.

"I'll be ready at seven. Is that okay?"

The spark in his eyes had returned. Giving her a smile that had her heart racing, he nodded his head and released her hands. "Sounds great. Oh, you didn't tell me where you live."

"I live in the second house on the right... over on White Oak."

Jonah's eyes widen. "You live near my parents?"

Ally said nothing else. She gave him a smile before walking away. "See you Friday, at seven, Jonah. Don't be late."

# Chapter 7

Worried she'd selected the shortest skirt in her closet, Ally adjusted the hem and crossed her legs underneath the table. When the material crept up a little further, she was grateful for the white tablecloth. It billowed around her from the waist down, preventing her from showing everyone in the restaurant her thighs, maybe even more.

Moving her eyes across the table, she found Jonah replacing his beer on a coaster. He'd been nursing the drink ever since the server brought it. He was being a gentleman. She knew how much he could drink, had spent many nights sneaking out of her house with a bottle for him, Cassie, and Theo. In fact, her friends would be dead if she hadn't been their designated driver.

Grasping the stem of her wineglass, she placed it to her lips, pouring the last of the contents into her mouth. The soft cherry taste teased her tongue. Guess it was too late to drink in moderation, but she'd try to go slower with the next glass. There would definitely be another glass.

She had hoped this dinner wouldn't be awkward like the last two times she ran into Jonah. Maybe it wouldn't be if she had kept their relationship on a friendship level. Instead, she fell for him years ago.

What an idiot.

Not realizing how loudly she groaned, she met Jonah's gaze. He glanced at her plate then back to her as he laughed halfheartedly. "I hope that's for the lack of flavor in this food, not because you're here with me."

"You don't like the food?"

One brow arched as his smiled. "I bet roadkill tastes better than this."

"Ew!" she squealed, covering her mouth at the thought. "That's so gross, Jonah."

This time, hearty laughter shook his chest as dark curls tossed about his face. She didn't realize how much she'd missed that sound. It still made her insides shake.

"I'd rather have a cheeseburger," he grinned.

"Ooh, yummy. I haven't eaten a cheeseburger in years."

Jonah's brow creased. "What? That's a crime. You need a cheeseburger."

Pressing her back against her chair, she stroked the tablecloth, making sure her legs remained hidden. "When I was in New York, I barely had time to eat once a day. I busted my butt to get the promotion that brought me here. So when I ate, I tried to be healthy."

"You've taken care of yourself, Ally. That's good." His eyes fell from her face as he tossed his napkin onto his plate. Then he laughed again. "But you know how much I always corrupted you. So, guess what we're doing?"

Drawing in a breath, a twinge of uncertainty pulsed in her heart. "I'm not sure I want to know—because you're right. You were a bad influence."

His eyes sparkled with humor, making her belly roll. Just like old times. "We're leaving this dump." He motioned for their server to bring the check. "Then, we'll find the closest burger joint so I can buy you a cheeseburger. We're living on the edge tonight."

It was Ally's laughter that filled the air this time, not because of what he said, but because for the first time since seeing him, she had hope. Maybe their friendship was repairable. She'd give it a shot. What was life without taking chances?

A bell chimed as the elevator doors opened. Ally gazed at the green carpet, debating on taking another step. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this—swinging by Jonah's hotel suite so he could change.

Yeah. Not her best decision.

She must have stimulated too many endorphins after eating. Lord knows she'd enjoyed every single bite of her food. The conversation had been good, too. It was like they hadn't missed the last six years of each other's life. The only thing missing was Cassie and Theo. Ally knew they would have enjoyed a good burger.

Moving through the hallway, Ally followed Jonah as they passed several doors. She couldn't stop his body. He still towered over her by a good eight inches. Had the same confidence to his step she remembered from high school and still filled his jeans in all the right places.

Her eyes made their way to his ass, admiring the firmness. Yeah. Definitely all the right places.

Heat filled her cheeks at the thought. Before she could look away, Jonah peered over his shoulder, catching her in the act. A volcanic eruption couldn't describe the sensation engulfing her face. It was as if she'd stepped off the elevator and into the pits of hell.

Jonah's brow rose. "You doing okay? You got quiet on me."

Nodding as fast as she could, her stomach tightened as he waited for her to step beside him. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was thinking about dinner. That was the best cheeseburger I've ever eaten. I swear I don't remember a big blob of meat and grease tasting so good."

"Nice analogy," he winked, bumping his shoulder into hers. "I agree, though. It was good. That restaurant has the best food." His hand brushed the front of his shirt where mustard stained it. "And messy."

"Well, if you wouldn't have inhaled your burger..."

"Touché." He stopped at the last door on the right of the hallway, swiping his key in the door. "I appreciate you coming up with me. It won't take me long to change."

"What choice did I have? I can't have someone see me in a dark movie theater with a guy who has a mustard stain on his shirt. I have a reputation to keep, you know." She couldn't help razz him after he did the same to her at the restaurant.

He didn't seem to mind when he flashed her a smile before pushing the door open. "After you."

Once she swept past him and entered the suite, she noticed the bar to the right. Rooms spread in different directions, the kitchenette being the closest. Stopping near the recliner, she studied the layout until the door clicked shut behind her. Jonah brushed past her on his way toward one of the other rooms.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, jabbing his finger over his shoulder.

"No, I'm fine. I'll grab something at the theater."

One shrug later, he disappeared down a hall.

As a doorknob clicked in the distance, she debated whether to sit on the sofa or make her way to the window. Sitting down would involve patience, something she didn't have at the moment. Instead, she paced near the couch, wishing she'd taken Jonah up on the drink he'd offered. Anticipation burned in her belly with thoughts of him, shirtless, just a few feet down the hall. No way could she sit still and wait for his return.

It didn't take long to reach the window. She parted the curtains, letting her eyes fall to the cobblestone that made up River Street. While many years had passed, she still remembered walking on that same street with her father right after they arrived in Savannah. She'd been too young to appreciate the history of the area, but the stone road fascinated her, and any memory of her father warmed her heart.

"See anything interesting outside?" Jonah's voice buzzed in her ear. She didn't realize he'd entered the room or that he stood less than a foot behind her. When she gazed over her shoulder, her heart took an extra beat.

A spark of humor play in his eyes. Then his lips curled upward. "What is it, Ally?"

"Nothing." She offered him a smile then forced her eyes back to the window. "I was thinking about how much fun I've had, tonight."

A low rumble of laughter worked passed his lips. "You didn't think you would?"

She wanted to deny the truth though she knew she couldn't. Not if they wanted to rebuild an honest friendship. Taking in the citric spice of his cologne, she stepped from the window to face him.

"I don't know what I expected, Jonah."

Her eyes fell to the floor. She didn't want to dredge up the past. Their evening had been too enjoyable to walk down a road that required total honesty on her part. He may not want to know the truth.

She stepped away until the warmth of his hand captured hers. When she glanced at him, the playful spark his eyes once held switched to smoldering heat. Then he teased her palm with his fingers.

Tears blurred her vision. She prayed her eyes would stop stinging. She couldn't let Jonah see this side of her when she didn't know what his intentions were.

"Look at me, Ally." The heat of his hands caressed her face as he cupped it. The moment she obliged, he leaned closer. "I know our last moment together didn't end well. I saw the pain in your eyes that day. Believe me. It wasn't one-sided. A day hasn't gone by I haven't thought of you."

Tears welled in her eyes, clouding her vision. One blink sent a warm stream down her face.

"God, Ally, don't cry." Jonah pulled her to his chest. The warmth of his arms encircled her as he pressed his cheek against the top of her head and sighed. "What did I say?"

Pulling back from his embrace, she swiped at her cheek. "The day I left, I wasn't honest with you."

"About what?"

She stared at his chest, the rest of the images in the suite a blur. Her eyes traced each groove of his muscles, admiring the way his t-shirt emphasized them. "Do you remember the day we went to Tybee Island, near the lighthouse."

"Yes. It's right after you found your dad's dog tags. I took you there to get your mind off things and even played a song for you."

Nodding, she inhaled a deep breath, hoping to steady her voice. "Things changed for me that day. The way I looked at you. The way I thought of you. I..."

She tried to push away from him, but he refused to release her. "What changed, Ally?"

Meeting his eyes once more, her lower lip trembled. She would hate herself in the morning, but she had to do this. "My feelings for you changed, Jonah. I fell in love with you that day."

Each second they stood in silence, Ally's heart vibrated. Through her chest. Across her skin. Between her thighs. Jonah's eyes danced over her face, dropping to her lips every so often. Then he wet his lips, sending a fruity scented breath to her nose.

"I know, Ally. At least, I had a suspicion. Part of me refused to believe it."

The knot in Ally's belly twisted. So Jonah suspected her feelings for him but ignored it. Great. That meant he couldn't reciprocate the feelings.

God, she was an idiot.

Fighting to hold back the tears, she resisted the urge to run away when Jonah stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Ally..."

Her name was only a whisper on his lips. He drew her face closer, still holding it in both hands. His breath beat against her skin, making her heart race. Then he parted his lips.

Ally struggled for a breath. Jonah needed to say what was on his mind or she'd lose hers. Even if he rejected her, it would end the ache of not knowing what she meant to him.

Jonah's eyes burned into Ally's, but only for a moment. Then his lips covered hers. They were warm, sweet, and softer than she ever imagined, and she had imagined plenty. Over the years, she'd fantasized about this happening.

He eased back, just enough to meet her eyes. The way his brow creased said he wanted proof she didn't object to what was happening. She didn't. Hopefully, he realized that when she leaned in and molded her mouth to his.

As he delved his tongue inside her mouth, a moan echoed between them. He pulled her closer, moving one hand into her hair. The other cupped her lower back, pulling her further into him.

His heart raced with such force, each beat thumped against her chest. She never thought she could have this effect on him. Hell, maybe it was a typical male response. She didn't care either way. All that matter was his hands on her hips. Rough fingers worked down the sides, squeezing and tugging at her skirt. Scorching hands slid under her shirt.

The instant Jonah cupped her breast and thumbed over her nipple, her breath caught. The lace on her bra scratched her sensitive flesh when it hardened, drawing another moan past her lips.

Jonah echoed the sound. He fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, stripping it from her arms once the last buttoned loosened. His eyes swept over her while he removed his t-shirt. Then, she was in his arms again. He suckled a warm, wet path up her neck.

Ally couldn't move, speak, or do anything but savor the sensations Jonah evoked. She'd waited too long for this moment. No matter what consequences might lay ahead, she refused to stop what was happening. All she needed is one night with him.

In one swift motion, her feet left the ground as Jonah lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and fastened her mouth to his. They were moving—perhaps to the bedroom. The thought increased the need pulsing through her.

Rocking her hips into his, he growled as he pinned her against the wall. Her thighs welcomed the weight of his body. Though she appreciated the way he was seducing her, as much as her body ached, she wanted him to rip off her clothes and sink himself deep. When his hands slid under her skirt, she knew her wish was about to come true.

Jonah worked his fingers up her leg until he stroked her panties. A gentle tug had her arching into him. The sound of them ripping sent a shiver down her spine. The sound of his zipper lowering had the same effect on her. Yet the moment he lifted her ass up to his hips, reality hit. It was happening. She and Jonah were about to make love for the first time.

Impatience had her squirming against him. She expected the feel of his dick sliding into her. Waiting was torture.

It was only a second later he did the unthinkable and released her legs. Plush carpet teased her toes, not that she cared when she wanted to know why Jonah had pulled away from their kiss.

"Ally, I can't take this any further. Not after what you confessed."

The stark reality of his words ripped at her heart. His rejection was her worst fear come true. He didn't want to be with her—back then or now. She was foolish to think time had changed that. At least she knew where she stood with him.

"I'm sorry, Jonah. I should—"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "Don't take what I said the wrong way. I want you, Ally, so much. I would love nothing more than to take you right here on this wall, but I can't until I set the record straight."

She didn't know how she could have misunderstood him. If not for his lack of interest why else would he refuse to make love to her or feel the need to straighten any record? He said he didn't have a girlfriend. Did he lie?

Jonah called her name again, removing the seeds of doubt before they sprouted. Trailing his finger down her lips, he gripped her chin, leaning in closer. "God, I have so much to tell you. I don't know where to begin. I hope you don't hate me."

His words bit at her heart. Whatever he planned to tell her wouldn't be good if he thought she would hate him. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. The ache in her chest built each second she stared at Jonah's lips, watching them press and part. Then he blew out a long breath. This definitely wouldn't be good if he couldn't find the courage to say what he needed.

With the words hanging on his lips, a rap resonated through the suite, widening both their eyes.

"Shit... That has to be Theo. No one else knows where I'm staying." His eyes left hers and roamed her half-naked body, and his. Then a voice sounded from behind the door.

"Jonah? Let me in, bro. I know you're in there."

He caressed the side of her face. "I need a few minutes to deal with him."

"Okay." She leaned over to grab her shirt and panties, but he beat her to it.

Handing her the garments, he folded his hand over hers, waiting until she met his gaze. "This conversation is far from over. I owe you some explanations."

"Where should I go?"

"The bathroom is closest."

Jonah couldn't meet his brother's eyes when he opened the door. A million thoughts of Ally consumed him, like the way her breath grew labored each time he touched her body. Sweet sounds passed through her lips—sounds he'd evoked within her. He could still taste her lips when he licked his.

Cherries and chocolate.

Theo brushed by him, moving past the bar to the center of the sitting area. He gave Jonah a quick look over before peering around the suite.

"Took you long enough to answer the door. What were you—?" Theo pointed his nose upward and drew in a breath. "It smells like a woman in here," he chuckled. "Did you sneak one in, big bro?"

The more Theo's laughter taunted him, the more Jonah scrambled for an answer. He didn't want to reveal Ally's presence. Then he would never get rid of his brother or finish his conversation with her.

An awkward amount of silence passed as they stood speechless. Then Theo's eyes squinted. The smile on his lips fell. "You got a chick in here, Jonah?"

Giving his brother a slight nod, he couldn't understand the piercing glare Theo gave him. His brother should be proud of him for bringing someone back to his suite.

"What the hell, man. Why would you go hookup with some girl? I told you I had someone in mind for you. In fact, that's the reason I'm here."

"Theo, I'm not interested." The only person Jonah wanted stood on the other side of the bathroom door, listening. He couldn't believe the things he'd revealed to her, tonight, like how he'd thought about her every day.

"You don't even know who I had in mind," Theo complained. "If you did, you'd bend over and kiss the ground I'm standing on. Trust me. You want this girl."

God, he needed to get his brother out of here before Ally thought the worst of him. They made progress this evening. Theo was about to fuck up everything.

"I appreciate your effort, little bro, but I'm not—"

"It's Ally, asshole." Theo walked back to the bar once Jonah reached it. He shoved his cell phone in Jonah's face, pointing to the screen. "I've been hanging out with Cassie since last Saturday. She and I were trying to set up a time for the four of us to get together. She's supposed to talk to Ally. I'm supposed to talk to you."

The more Theo's lips moved the more Jonah's face burned. Did Ally already know about this setup?

His thoughts came crashing down as his brother's voice drifted back to his ears. "I thought you'd want to hook up with her after seeing her at the show. What was it you were saying about her dance moves?"

Heat bit at Jonah's cheeks. "Shut up, Theo."

The bathroom door came back into his sight, making his heart thump harder. The thought of Ally pressing her ear to the door had his gut churning. She would demand answers after this—answers he promised her before his brother's rude interruption.

"Dude, it's been six years. Aren't you curious if she—?"

"Theo! I will punch you if you don't shut up."

"You're an idiot." A smack echoed as Theo's hands hit the bar top. "You're passing up a chance with Ally Jacobs. What's standing in the way this time?"

Jonah gazed at the top of the bar where his brother's hands lay. Freaking idiot. Did he think Jonah had been kidding? He really would punch him if he didn't shut up.

"Nothing's standing in my way. If I wanted to be with Ally, I would be. I don't need your help."

"Obviously not since you have a chick here." Clenching his jaw, Theo raked his fingers through the pile of black curls on his head. "Do you realize you screwed me? Hooking you up with Ally meant I finally had half a shot with Cassie. You know how long I've waited for this. At least you should. It's as long as you—"

"Theo!" Jonah's voice echoed in the room. "Shut up!" Half a chuckle passed his lips. "Damn it, man. You don't know when to stop, do you? You've always run off at the mouth, speaking before thinking about who your words would affect."

His brother's jaw dropped. He looked as though he wanted to blast Jonah again, but Jonah shook his head, massaging his temples as he exhaled a long breath. "You can come out now, Ally."

The click of a door resonated into the sitting area. When Ally rounded the corner, she didn't meet Jonah's gaze, or Theo's, as she hugged her chest.

Great. She'd definitely been listening to their conversation. Why else would she avoid his attention? Then her words sent a surge of panic through his heart.

"I think I better go."

# Chapter 8

The sound of passing cars drifted from Ally's ears as she walked into her office building. She made her way to the elevator, stepping inside the empty car before pressing the button for the seventh floor.

As the doors closed behind her, she stared at the mirror covering the back portion of the car. The bags under her eyes didn't surprise her considering she'd spent the entire weekend in tears. The more she thought about what happened at Jonah's suite, the more she wanted to crawl under a rock. He seemed sincere when they spoke about the past. At one point, he convinced her he'd thought about her over the years. Hell, maybe he had, but not the way she had him.

Clenching the paper coffee cup in her hand, she inhaled the rich scent of her caramel latte. Mid-afternoon slumps were the worst. She needed the extra shot of caffeine if she wanted to make it through the rest of the day. Lord knows she had zoned out enough this morning.

As the elevator chimed for her floor, she released a breath. Her heels thumped against the carpet with each step she took. Just a few more hours and she could go home, open a bottle of wine, and soak in the tub.

She didn't make it to her office before her assistant came rushing around her desk. "Thank God you're finally back."

Ally met Heidi's eyes, noting the way they widened. Fighting back the urge to growl, she hoped her assistant was overreacting. She didn't need a crisis today. She wanted to leave early.

Stealing a glance at her watch, the hands pointed to one o'clock. "I've only been out for thirty minutes, Heidi. What's wrong?"

"Thirty minutes?" Heidi's face contorted with a frown. "Sweetie, you left two hours ago. It's two-thirty."

Ally faced the large clock above her desk. She did a double take, just to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. Stupid watch. She'd forgotten to wind it this morning. Jonah had consumed her thoughts.

"I still don't understand what's wrong. I have no clients this afternoon. Why do you look like you're about to pull out your hair?"

Heidi rolled her eyes and grunted. "Mr. Taylor's client showed up a day early. He said he won't be in town tomorrow and wants to see him today. Problem is, Mr. Taylor went home early. Guess he's sick. Mr. Goldman is at a business luncheon, which only leaves you to deal with the client. And he's _pissed_."

What a great way to end the day—talking down an irate client. She had success doing the same in the past, but focusing was a challenge. She needed every ounce of her wit to work with this client.

"Where is he?"

"I put him in your office, twenty minutes ago."

"Okay." Ally gazed at the file in Heidi's hand. "Hold all my calls and get Mr. Taylor on the phone. See if there are any important details not included in this file."

"Right away," Heidi said as she raced back to the other side of her desk.

Once Ally rounded the corner, she stood outside her door, skimming the file for details on the investment. Damn. Rich had the sloppiest handwriting. She couldn't make out any of the words stretching across the paper. Why hadn't his assistant typed this information yet?

Had Ally not known a client was in her office, she would never have seen him. The high-back leather chair hid most of his body, except for his foot, which shook with force near the armrest. Dealing with this client would be as fun as jumping into an ocean full of sharks. Both would be out for blood.

Quick steps brought her past the chair. "Good afternoon. I apologize for the wait, Mr.—"

"McCabe."

Had his voice not sent a trail of ice down Ally's back, his name would have. She gazed up in time to see Jonah staring back.

"Whoa—what are you doing here, Jonah?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting with Rich Taylor about an investment, but I guess you already know that." His eyes trailed down her body then back. "I didn't realize you worked here."

Nor had she realized he had the initiative to invest.

Pulling out her chair, she sat across from him, reopening the file as she placed it on her desk. "I apologize for Rich not being here. He's out sick today, but I can help you with whatever you need."

He looked as though he wanted to refuse her help, but didn't. Uncrossing his legs, he leaned closer to the desk, resting his elbows on his knees. "Fine. Whatever. I want to get things started. This isn't the first time Rich has had to reschedule."

"I can't make out his notes. Would you mind telling me about your investment?"

Jonah held her gaze a moment before turning his head toward the window. "It's for a project I started with some musicians I work with. Since music classes are disappearing from a lot of school curriculums, I want to make sure children can still have access to music and have resources to learn about it. I couldn't imagine where I'd be if music not entered my life."

Neither could she. He loved playing, or at least he used to enjoy it. It's why finding out about his career change surprised her.

"Music and children. You've always had a soft spot for both." She smiled as memories came rushing back. How Jonah used to volunteer at the local hospitals, playing his guitar and singing to sick children, especially around Christmas. He'd even dragged her and Cassie along for his last performance.

The way those children's eyes lit up when he'd sing had made her fall in love with him even more.

"So, tell me more about your project."

His eyes met with hers again. A smile teased his lips. "I approached a couple musicians about my idea and they loved it enough to get record labels on board. We want to provide free music to children as one of our services. Most of the songs are being purchased by the musicians themselves. That's how much they believe in this. We will also do a mentoring program."

Fighting to keep a smile on her face, Ally read over the file again, or at least pretended. All she could think of was the man in front of her. The more he talked about his project, the more her heart ached for him.

She replayed his and Theo's previous conversation in her mind. It was embarrassing to hear them talk about her dance moves. Then Theo taunted Jonah about some secret, possibly the same secret he almost revealed before his brother showed up.

The part that hurt the most was the anger in Jonah's voice, especially when said he could have had her _if_ he wanted her. It only meant one thing. He couldn't see Ally as more than a friend, regardless of how hard he'd kissed her.

"Ally?" Jonah's voice ripped the thoughts from her head. Yet the ache in her heart continued when she met his smoldering eyes again.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "What were you saying?"

Pressing his back against the chair, he cocked his head to the side, letting his eyes roam her face. "Why didn't you answer my calls this weekend?"

"I was busy." What a horrible liar she was. With the way Jonah was staring at her, he wasn't buying the excuse either.

Gripping the edge of her desk, she rolled her chair away before standing. A few steps later, she neared the wall of windows. She wished Heidi would interrupt them. Hadn't she told her assistant to call Rich?

Steps sounded behind her, alerting her of Jonah's presence. A second later, his image reflected in the window. She prayed he wouldn't touch her. There's no way she could fight back the tears if he did.

"I don't know how much you heard the other night, but—"

"I heard enough, Jonah."

"At least let me explain before you judge me."

Anger pulsed through her. "What is there to explain? I confessed my feelings for you. You tried to tell me you wanted me, too, yet you told your brother you weren't interested in dating."

Jonah stepped closer. The heat of his body radiated to hers, causing her to take another step back, but she couldn't escape his voice. "Did you know about the date he and Cassie were arranging?"

"Cassie mentioned something about it. It's the same day when ran into each other outside the antique shop."

A snort echoed off the windows. "Yeah. We literally _ran_ into each other."

Spinning to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "This isn't the time for jokes. I confessed my feelings for you. If you weren't interested, you shouldn't have kissed me."

"I wanted to kiss you, Ally." His eyes seemed to plead with her. "I wanted to make love to you, but I couldn't. I had to you the truth first. I wanted your first time—"

"It wouldn't have been my first time, Jonah. I've had a relationship before."

"I was about to say I wanted your first time _with me_ to be special."

Ally's cheeks burned. She prayed the floor beneath her would open and swallow her. It was better than seeing the anger in Jonah's eyes.

"You were seeing someone?" He took a step back toward the chair when she nodded. Guess she'd forgotten to mention that before, though he never asked about her previous relationships, only if she had a current one. "Was it serious?" He waited until she nodded again. "How serious?"

"Why are you asking, Jonah? I'm not asking you about your previous relationships—"

"I haven't had one, not a serious one." A few long strides had him standing a foot away. His bright eyes shimmered under the lights as he leaned in to look in hers. "So how serious was it, Ally?"

She glanced at the navy blue carpet at her feet. "It doesn't matter."

" _How serious_?" his voice rose higher. It reverberated off the window, making her cringe. She couldn't understand his anger, or why he'd yelled at her for the first time, but she had his answer.

"He asked me to marry him."

What little air Jonah had inhaled seeped past his lips as he gripped the chair. His treacherous lungs refused to take another breath even though they burned from the lack of oxygen. None of that mattered after the news Ally delivered.

Another thought plagued his mind. Had Ally accepted the proposal from her ex-boyfriend?

He drew in a deep, cherry scented breath. Ally moved in front of him. She clasped his shoulder, giving him a firm shake. Her lips moved, but no words drifted to his ears. Only the sound of his heart as it raged inside his chest.

He'd been a fool to believe...

"I should have known." The lump in his throat muffled the hardness of his words.

"Should've known what?"

"That you'd find someone. That you wouldn't waste one minute of your life waiting for someone like me."

Ally's brows shot skyward, crinkling her forehead. "What are you talking about, Jonah? You didn't want me. You showed no interest. In fact, you made plans to leave with your brother. I tried to kiss you that night and you..."

"I told you what I had to tell you." He gripped her arms, leaning his face closer to hers. "I had to set you free. I never wanted you to go, but you deserved the chance to live your dreams."

A range of emotions crossed her face. Confusion. Hurt. Anger.

She gave no warning before she jerked her arms from his grasp. "Don't you dare pull this crap on me, Jonah McCabe. Don't pretend like it was more. We were friends. Foremost and utmost. Remember telling me that?"

"You know it was more than that. How many times did I hold you in my arms while you cried about your dad, your mom, even school?"

He hated the way his voice shook.

Regret burned in Ally's eyes. "Jonah—"

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he drew her body to his, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I held you night after night, not because you needed someone to care for you. I did it because I knew I wanted to be that someone for the rest of my life. I did it for the same reason I showed up at the train station the night you left, a few minutes too late. I did it because I love you, Ally."

Her lips pressed and parted. Every second she didn't respond increased the ache in his gut. It was a mistake to have this conversation.

"I... I don't know what to say. Why are you doing this? Why are you lying?"

The last chord of hope snapped from Jonah's chest. "I'm not lying. You never knew I came to stop you that night. Perhaps I would have succeeded had I not been dealing with your drunk mother."

The words came out before he could stop them. He'd always planned to tell her the truth if given the chance, but not with them yelling at each other.

Tears formed in Ally's eyes as she slapped him across the face. "Lies. It's all lies! Mom gave up drinking a month before I left. Cassie said she's been sober since."

Heat pulsed in Jonah's cheek as he continued to stare at her, not flinching from her assault. He deserved any ounce of pain she put him though. But she also deserved the truth. "Your mother may be sober now, but I can assure you of this. She wasn't that night."

"Don't you dare blame my mother what happened. You could have told me how you felt, but you didn't. Now you're playing the victim. It won't work. Get out, Jonah! I never want to see you again."

He reached for her but she swatted his hand away. The rejection rocked him to the core. She hated him. Disgust raged in her tear-filled eyes. He'd rather have taken a beating than to have her look at him like that.

Raising his hands in front of him, he took several steps back, hoping she would change her mind. She didn't.

"Whatever you want, Ally." he snorted, turning toward the door. When he reached it, he clasped the knob in his hand, gazing back at her once more. "I'm heading back to L.A. tomorrow. You never have to see me again, but it won't change the truth. I love you, Ally. I've always loved you, and this isn't the first time I've walked away so you could be happy."

# Chapter 9

Ally pulled into the driveway, listening to the hum of the windshield wipers as they passed across the glass. She could almost hear the bathtub calling her name. The hot water would soothe her skin. What better way to help her forget the last few hours of her life.

She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed everyone else leaving the office hours before she did. Even the drive home became a blur.

Only one thing stood in her way of unwinding with milk and honey bath salts—the familiar figure standing at her door. She didn't know why her mother had stopped by her house nor did she care. All she wanted was to be alone.

Killing the engine, she listened to the raindrops beat against the roof. They pounded in a rhythm that matched the ones in her chest. Strong, steady, miserable beats.

Inhaling the pineapple-scented air freshener, she prepped herself for the impending chat with her mother. They were getting along better than they had in years, but lingering resentment remained, regardless of how much she fought it. She shouldn't expect it to go away soon. Her mother didn't.

Closing the door behind her, clicking resonated off the pavement as she ran toward the porch. She covered her head with her briefcase, but it didn't stop the cold drops from dampening her blouse. Hopefully, her mother wouldn't stay long. Between mental exhaustion and wet clothes, she couldn't put the bath off for long.

Pink lips curled up at her once she stepped onto the porch, but they didn't hold the sincerity they had the last time she saw her mother.

Tightness formed in Ally's neck. She did not have time for her mom's drama when she needed to decompress from her issues.

Stepping out of her way, her mother waited while Ally slid her key in the lock. "Hey, Ally-bear."

"Hi, Momma. What are you doing out in this weather?" The door creaked open once Ally turned the knob. She made her way inside, set her keys and purse on the end table, and then stepped out of her heels.

The plush carpet teased her toes, providing her a smidgen of relief, at least until her mother shut the door behind her. "Rough day at the office, sweetie?"

Unable to stop herself from snorting, she nodded, moving toward the couch. "It was definitely a day I'll never forget. You don't understand, Momma."

"Oh, I think I do." Slow steps brought her mother around the edge of the recliner. She gave Ally a quick look over before easing down to the cushion. Each second she sat silently, body rigid and perched at the edge, Ally's stomach churned tighter.

"Something's on you mind, Momma. I know how much you hate the rain. You wouldn't go out in a downpour just to come hang out with me."

Feigning a smile, her mother nodded. She worked her hands together as they sat in her lap. "I had a visitor today. Jonah McCabe. He left about an hour ago after he told me what happened."

The weight of her words sent Ally to the couch, its cushion cradling her bottom as she sank inside. Anger pulsed within her heart. Jonah had no right talking to her mother about anything they'd discussed. She couldn't understand why he was hellbent on breaking her heart. Admitting her feelings should have been enough. What did he gain by lying about the past?

"Did he tell you about the lies he's spreading about you?"

Her mother's hands stilled in her lap. Parting her lips, she drew in a breath, releasing it as quickly. "Nothing he said is a lie, baby girl. Jonah told you the truth."

Each beat of Ally's heart vibrated throughout her body. In thumped in her ears, behind her eyes, and over her skin. If not for the ticking clock on the wall, she would swear time stood still.

"You were drunk the night I left for New York?" The knot in her stomach twisted when her mother nodded. "Why? You stopped drinking a month before I left. Why would you start again?"

Digging into her purse, her mother pulled out an envelope. The worn, yellow tint hinted to its age. "I drank that night because I found this. It's from your father. He sent it right after he arrived in Afghan. I kept it hidden in my jewelry box for years, afraid that you would find it. I think it's time for you to read it."

Ally stared at the envelope, debating on taking it from her mother. What good would come out of reading the letter unless it explained why her mother picked up the bottle again?

Setting the envelope on the coffee table, her mother scooted it across to the top. Ally leaned forward, letting her fingertips stroke the aged paper. Most of the ink had faded from the outside, but she recognized her father's handwriting. She still had the letters he mailed to her.

Anxiety pulsed a wicked path through her heart. She gripped the envelope, pulling out the letter within its decrepit walls. As her eyes trailed over the cursive letters, she could hear her father's voice in her mind, repeating each word as she read them.

Line by line, everything she ever knew of her father changed. The man she adored more than anyone had a secret—a gut-wrenching secret.

Fragmented sentences replayed in her mind. A new one added to the playlist the further she read.

_You and Ally are my life... I'm sorry for what I've done... We were going through a rough patch... It only happened once... Please forgive me._

The letter fell from Ally's hands, making its descent toward the floor. She didn't care where it landed. Her gaze fell on her mother. "Are you telling me the reason you drank was because Daddy cheated on you, because that's no excuse for abandoning me all those years?"

The lines on her mother's face deepened as fought with the moisture in her eyes. "I didn't drink because your father cheated. I drank because I sent your father to his death."

As her stomach rolled, Ally bit back the bitter taste in her mouth. Her heart raced as much as her mind. How could her mother have been responsible for her father's death? He'd died in Afghanistan.

Blinking away tears, she found the courage to look at her mother. "What are you talking about?"

"A couple months after the letter came, your father called. He begged for my forgiveness and promised to make it up to both of us if I let him. I couldn't answer him. Instead, I said I'd have to think about it. If I'd known..."

Another round of sobs racked her mother's body. Ally wanted to go to her and tell her it was okay, but the weight of her heart pinned her to the couch. "I still don't understand how this makes you responsible for his death."

"I broke his heart, Ally. I refused to forgive him. He left that evening for his last mission. Jonah's father, Michael, was in the same unit. He's the one that told me how your father wasn't himself, but being the first sergeant he was, he refused to stay behind."

Ally didn't doubt it. Her father loved serving his country. He took pride in training men and women to serve and honor. Nothing could have prevented him from leading his men.

Pulling a couple tissues from her purse, her mother dabbed her eyes and nose. "They were on a mission to rescue two of their soldiers. They thought they had the house cleared, but your father heard voices inside. When he raced back into the house to see who it was, the house exploded."

The walls surrounding Ally swayed. The carpet cradle her knees as she went to the floor, sobbing. It all made perfect sense. Her mother's guilt... It's why she turned to the bottle. Her last words to her husband haunted her every waking moment.

"Ally-bear. There is more I need to tell you. It's about Jonah."

Sucking in a shaky breath, Ally pushed off the floor, rising to her feet. A lock of hair fell from her clasp as she shook her head. "I can't deal with this tonight, Mom. Please go."

A tearful nod later, her mother left the recliner. "I'm sorry, Ally, for everything. I hope you can forgive me some day." She watched her mother collect her purse before turning toward the door. Reaching it within seconds, she shot Ally one last look. "The most precious thing we have in life is time and love. While time may not always matter, love will. You'll find the answer you're looking for, if your open your eyes... and your heart."

Swirling the glass of wine in her hands, Ally eyed the envelope again, wishing she'd never read the letter. She could have gone the rest of her life without discovering the things she had today. Her father wasn't the only person she saw in a different light. There was Jonah too.

Her eyes shifted to the watch. She studied the second hand as it ticked away, knowing the time would be inaccurate. It's where all her problems began. Had she not been late for the comedy show, she never would have run into Jonah at the bar.

Unclasping it from her wrist, she held it in her hands, examining the face. How could something so ordinary turn her life upside down with just the slowing of gears? The watch had a curse. Maybe it had been the reason Abigail Hamilton lost so much of her life. God knows it had stolen enough of Ally's.

With no regard for the gift her mother gave her, she slammed her hand onto the table, smashing the watch against it. Gass cracked against the wood. It sent a wave of satisfaction through her soul. She'd rid the watch of the curse. Another swing of her hand sent the watch back into the table. And then again. Each strike filled Ally with a sense of control. She smashed it several more times before the back casing cracked open.

Pinching the watch between her fingers, she pulled it apart. The gears continued to move, growing slower with each passing second. It wouldn't be long before they stopped. The watch would never steal another moment from anyone, least of all her.

As she studied the gears, she noticed rusty debris within them. She blew at the powder, choking on the dust particles floating in the air. Crap. Hopefully she hadn't unleashed a toxic disease that hadn't existed since the 1800s.

Turning the casing between her fingers, the light above her hit on something under the residue. Ally rubbed at the powder, removing what she could with her fingertip. When she glanced back inside, engraved words stared back at her.

_The heart does not see through blind eyes. Only the mind. Time matters not..._

As the words replayed in Ally's mind, she remembered them coming from Twila's lips. They were the same words attached to the letter that arrived with the watch for Abigail. The watch's back fell from her fingers, clinking against the table. She stared at the face, unable to decipher the message. Flipping it over, ice spread down her spine. No cracks marred the glass. Not even a scratch.

It couldn't be possible. She's slammed the watch into the table too many times to not leave a mark. Besides, she heard the glass crack.

Tossing it back to the table, she stood from her chair, refusing to let any of this torment her another minute. She took one step before the floor shifted beneath her, sending her back on her bottom.

Ally struggled to breathe, but no air greeted her lungs. She scanned the room but saw nothing, not even the walls surrounding her. Maybe because they no longer did. A blur of images swirled around her, like scenes of her life on a movie screen. Her stomach dipped. Gravity no longer contained her.

A bitter shot of liquid burned the back of her throat, making her mouth water. She prayed she wouldn't vomit. If she could hold herself together long enough to get to her room, she could pass out.

Just as quickly as the nausea hit, the urge receded. Even the room stopped spinning. Ally turned from the table, ready to run for her bed, but she no longer stood in her kitchen.

A covered porch blocked the sunrays above her. She stared at the brick wall of the house as a chord of familiarity struck her heart. It switched to a pang the second she noticed the porch swing in the distance.

While the child within wanted to run to the swing and jump inside, the sound of voices drew her attention to the door behind her. She rubbed her eyes once, swearing she must have passed out. This had to be a dream. It was the only logical explanation for the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Her mother stood with her back to the door she'd just closed. She didn't look Ally's way. Instead, she stared at the young man in front of her. The young man who made Ally's heart skip a beat.

Jonah.

# Chapter 10

Ally stepped closer to the door where her mother and Jonah stood. She waved her hands above her, hoping to gain their attention, but it didn't work. Neither acknowledged her presence. It was as if she didn't exist.

A few more steps brought her to their side, her mind equally consumed with the words spilling from both.

"You can't tell her, Jonah. Ally needs to get away from this place. She needs to be away from you. You'll do nothing but lead her down a life of regret. I know you've been drinking my liquor."

"I would never hurt your daughter. She's the reason I stopped drinking. That and the fact she needs someone dependable in her life. God knows you haven't been that person, Pauline."

Her mother stepped closer to Jonah, peering into his eyes. "Her father wanted her to go north. It had always been his dream for her. If you tell her how you feel, she'll never leave. She'll follow you instead. Give her a shot at life, Jonah. She'd hate you for keeping her from her father's wishes."

Jonah stepped back, leaning into one of the brick posts. His brows folded as he refused to back down from her mother. "You can't live your daughter's life, Pauline. This is her decision. I won't stand in the way if she leaves, but I'm not letting her leave without knowing the truth. I love her. I've always loved her, and I know she feels the same."

Her mother gazed over her shoulder as though she expected someone to open the door. After a moment of silence, she moved across the porch, jabbing a finger in Jonah's chest. "You tell my daughter anything, I swear to you, I'll make sure she never talks to you again. It would be a shame for her to find out about you and Cassie."

"There is no me and Cassie. There never has been and you know it."

"I'm sure I can convince my daughter otherwise."

Ally touched her hand to her mouth. How could her mother threaten to lie about Jonah and Cassie when she knew how much they meant to her? This had to be a dream. Stress had taxed her beyond her limits and she'd passed out. It explained what she was witnessing. Now if she could figure out how to wake herself.

As she watched Jonah hang his head, an ache formed in her chest. He said nothing more to her mother as he turned to walk away. His image faded along with the scenery.

Another blur of images spun around her, lifting her along the sands of time. When her vision cleared, the rich scent of night jasmine teased her nose. A black sky stretched above her, providing the perfect background for the stars that twinkled across it.

Searching for the constellations, her eyes shifted to the low-hanging branches of an oak tree. Spanish moss intertwined with the leaves, leaving a breathtaking sight. So did the couple standing beneath it.

She'd recognized Jonah the instant she saw the messy pile of dark curls. The young woman standing across from him... Her eighteen-year-old image gazed at the man that held her heart, now and then.

A smile spreading across Jonah's lips. His eyes danced over her younger version's face, increasing the curl of his lips. When his mouth parted, she gripped the tree beside her, waiting to hear the words that hadn't left her memory since the day he spoke them.

"I need to tell you something."

She watched herself nod as the space between them decreased. Second, by heart-pounding second, Jonah's face leaned closer to hers, the heat in his eyes as consuming as she remembered. Just when his lips hovered above hers, he pulled away.

The pain of his rejection ripped through her heart again. But unlike the last time, she noticed the moisture in Jonah's eyes as he glanced away.

"I didn't want you to hear about my decision second-hand. Theo and I are heading to New Orleans to meet with a guy Jessie knows. It might be the break we've been looking for. I have to try."

Her younger version nodded as she tuned away and lowered her eyes to the ground. She didn't need to see the way her lip trembled to feel the ache in her heart. The pain hadn't faded.

"I don't blame you for following your dreams, Jonah. I'm doing the same in a few days. Nothing is keeping me here except a recovering alcoholic mother and painful memories of my father."

Ally mouthed every single word with her younger self, allowing the ache she'd felt back then to consume her. Jonah never knew she was fishing to see if he cared about her. It was his last chance to prove what she meant to him. Silence had been her only answer, but as she watched the scene unfold, she realized how much the words affected him. He reached for her, stopping himself short of touching her shoulder. His chest heaved, and he dropped his hand back to his side.

Guess their decisions had hurt him as much as it hurt her.

As her heart resonated in her ears, Ally closed her eyes, hating the feel of wet warmth on her cheeks. Why was she reliving this painful memory? Worse, why had she witnessed a conversation between her mother and Jonah that she never knew existed?

She wanted to scream at her younger self to tell Jonah how much she loved him. When she opened her eyes to shout the words, the scene had changed.

No longer standing under the tree, she gazed at the crisp white walls adorned with dozens of picture frames. The blue and white flowered sofa hit another familiar chord, but not as much as the young man standing in the hallway. This scene, just like the first, had not come from her memory. She never knew about her mother and Jonah's previous argument or the current one unfolding inside her mom's living room.

Standing a few feet from the staircase, Jonah glared at her mother, who came down the stairs. She clutched a glass inside her hand, sipping a clear beverage as she passed him. Jonah cut off her path.

"I can't do this, Pauline. I can't go to that station and watch her leave knowing I broke her heart."

"It's for the best, Jonah. She'll recover. You're honoring a dead man's wish for his daughter to attend Harvard. Robert deserves that after the sacrifice he made. You need to let this go." Her mother brushed past Jonah on her way to the hallway table. She slipped her hands inside her purse searching for what Ally assumed were her keys.

Jonah refused to back down. He followed her mother to table before leaning closer. "Is that booze I smell on your breath?"

Her mother spun around, revealing a set of rosy cheeks. From embarrassment or from alcohol consumption, Ally couldn't say, but guilt wavered in her mother's eyes.

"That's absurd, Jonah. You've lost your mind. I quit drinking a month ago. If you don't want to see my daughter off then go home. I will say goodbye."

"You're not going anywhere." Jonah's grabbed a set of keys just a foot away from her mother's purse. He deflected her mother's swatting hand and brought the keys to his chest.

"Give them back, Jonah. You will not rob me of this last moment with my little girl."

"Why not, Pauline? You're robbing your daughter and me of our happiness. Besides, you're drunk. I won't allow you behind the wheel in your condition. Go sleep it off."

Swiping at the keys dangling above her head, her mother stumbled into the table, knocking her purse onto the floor. All the contents within spilled out. "Great!"

Jonah leaned over to help clean the mess. As he scooped a handful of items, his eyes hesitated on something else. He pulled an envelope from the floor, unfolding the letter it contained, and read each word in haste. By the time her mother noticed, Jonah's mouth gaped.

When he finished, he glanced at her mom. Dark curls brushed against his face each time he shook his head. "Is this real?" Once her mother nodded, Jonah fell back on his butt. "Does Ally know about this?"

"No, she doesn't, nor will she. It would break her heart."

"She has a right to know. What else are you hiding from your daughter, Pauline?"

Gripping the paper, her mother jerked it forward, along with Jonah. "Nothing, and this is none of your business, Jonah. Leave it be!"

"Wow. You set on your judgmental horse, acting as though you're saving your daughter from a hoodlum like me. What she doesn't know is you're keeping a devastating secret from her. You're not Ally's savior. You're her manipulator."

"You'll never prove it, Jonah." He mom waved the letter in his face. "I have the proof. All you have is accusations. You've already broken my daughter's heart. She won't believe anything else you have to say."

"Maybe she won't Pauline. It's a chance I'll take. Too bad you won't be there to see how it all plays out." He shook her mother's keys in her face. A snort echoed off the walls when she tried to grab them from his hands.

"Damn it, Jonah, give me those keys. We'll both end up missing her if you don't."

Jonah sidestepped her mother's advances, tucking the keys into his back pocket. "You can't go anywhere. You're drunk, Pauline If you get behind the wheel, you'll kill someone. Maybe even your daughter, who could have changed her mind and is on her way back."

The anger in her mother's face faded. Guess Jonah's words had sunk in. Finally.

Ally watched as he curled his fingers around her mother's arms, nudging her toward the living room. "Come on. Let's get you to the couch."

She didn't put up a fight. After she collapsed on the cushions, she laid her head against the armrest as tears streamed from her eyes. "I was trying to do the right thing for once. That poor girl. I've put her though hell."

Tucking a knitted blanket across her legs, Jonah kneeled beside the couch. "Then change, Pauline. Stop drinking. Go back to church. Try therapy. Clean up your act so you can have a relationship with your daughter before it's too late."

Wiping her face with the back of her hand, her mother nodded. "Maybe I was wrong about you, Jonah. You really love my Ally, don't you?"

"If love means you give every part of your heart and soul to another person to make them happy, then yes. I love your daughter. Do you, Pauline? Do you love her enough to stay off the sauce?"

"Yes," her mother nodded, moving her eyes to the ceiling. "Starting tomorrow, I'll never drink another drop."

The glimpse of hope in Jonah's eyes diminished. He turned his head toward the piano where Ally stood watching the scene unfold. While she knew he couldn't see her, she saw pain in his eyes. It was clear in his voice as it shook. "You always say that, but you've never followed through. I don't know if you ever will."

"I will."

Jonah shook his head again. He left the edge of the couch and crossed the living room with long strides. He didn't stop until he reached the archway. Looking at her mother one last time, Ally didn't miss the way tears spilled from his eyes, over his cheeks.

"I have your keys, Pauline. I'll return them later, after I stop Ally. She isn't going to New York to fulfill a dream. The only reason she's leaving is because she doesn't feel like she has anyone here. I'll prove her wrong." The door swung open as he stepped outside, issuing out one final promise. "Your daughter has someone here—someone that loves her. Me."

As Jonah's image faded from Ally's sights, she braced herself as the scene shifted once more. Her head grew lighter, like she was about to pass out. When the fog of confusion lifted, Ally stood on a cement pad covered by a tin roof. The scent of oil and diesel penetrated her nose. It took a moment before she realized she was standing on the loading dock of the train station. And she wasn't alone.

Standing just a few feet away, a man stood in front of her. Judging by his small frame and the long hair that poked out from underneath his Georgia Bulldogs hoodie, he couldn't be over twenty.

Inside his clenched hand lay a paper. He held on to it for dear life or at least she thought before he released his grip. The paper floated to the ground, barely skimming the pavement before the man walked away. As he drew closer, she noticed the way his cheek shimmered in the fluorescent lights above. Her heart ached for him. She wanted to ask what caused his pain, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. He blinked away the tears that filled his green ones.

Brushing past her like she didn't exist, he left a citrus-scented trail in his wake. Ally inhaled a breath, nearly choking on the air when she spotted the paper on the ground.

"Sir," she called. "Sir, wait! You forgot something." Picking the paper off the ground, she turned for the door just as he disappeared inside.

Great. Either he was hard of hearing or lost in the pain consuming him. He should have heard her footsteps as they echoed across the platform.

Gripping the door handle, she tugged it open, entering the building. She'd have a hard time locating the guy if the station was as busy as normal. White walls and wooden benches stared back at her, not a crowd of unfamiliar faces.

Glancing at the paper inside her hand, she unfolded the crinkled edges, skimming over the printed words it contained. It was a train itinerary—Destination—New York City on August second.

Searching the paper for other clues, her eyes trailed over the passenger's name. As she read each word, her heart seized inside her chest.

_Ally Jacobs_. _Departure time: 7:50pm_

Reality finally hit her. The deserted station. The train itinerary. The guy with the tear-filled eyes. It was Jonah the night she left for New York. He hadn't lied about coming to stop her.

The scenery shifted once more. When it stopped, Ally found herself back inside her kitchen, still seated at the table with the watch. No longer split in two pieces, it lay in her hand, the scratch free face revealing hands frozen in place. One pointed past the seven, the other rested on the ten. 7:50—the same time her train left the station.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Then one more image played through her mind.

Her father stood in their backyard, decked out in his dress blues. Beside him stood another man who resembled Michael McCabe. The harder she stared at him, the sooner she realized it _was_ Jonah's father. A little boy, only six, stood beside him, fidgeting.

Her father glanced down at the boy, offering him a smile before kneeling down in front of him.

"You must be Jonah," he smiled. "Your father has told me a lot about you, son."

The young version of Jonah gazed up at her father with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Her father's laughter filled the air when little Jonah saluted him. "At ease, soldier."

The smile on Jonah's lips didn't face, even when her father resumed his conversation with Jonah's dad. It doubled in size. He tugged on her father's shirtsleeve until he regained his attention. "Sir," he said as her father kneeled in front of him. "Would it be okay if I married your daughter someday?"

The questions squeezed Ally's heart. She watched as her father glanced at Michael McCabe's eyes, then back to Jonah. "Well, it depends. Do you think you would be a good husband?"

"Yes, sir." Little Jonah answered with a dimpled grin. "Because a good husband can make his wife smile, even when she's feeling sad. He can also make her laugh more than anyone else. Your daughter already smiled at me. I bet I can make her laugh, too."

Ally watched her father study little Jonah as a smile crept over his face. Then he rustled Jonah's hair. "I'll tell you what. If you can make sure my Ally laughs and smiles every day, and if she wants to make you laugh and smile too, then I think I'd be okay with you marrying her someday."

Little Jonah's face lit up at the news. It only took him a second to shake her father's hand then race off toward a little girl standing under an oak tree, a little girl she would recognize anywhere.

The last of the images faded from Ally's mind, leaving behind a wicked thump in her head. As a million thoughts continued to tumble, she couldn't deny the truth in what had unfolded this evening. Her mother hadn't just gifted her with some dusty old antique watch that kept losing time. She'd gifted her with a second chance to right the wrongs she'd caused.

# Chapter 11

Jonah placed the last folded shirt into his suitcase before closing the lid. Once zipped, he wheeled it toward the bedroom door. He'd shower in the morning then put everything else in his carry-on bag. The quicker he left this place the better.

Stepping into the hall, images of Ally played through his mind. He eyed the corner wall, remembering the way he'd pressed her body against it as the heat of her thighs wrapped around his waist. Had it not been for his conscious, he would have made love to her in that spot.

Had he stuck to his original plan to seduce her and then leave town, he could have avoided this. Maybe if he was half the jerk she thought he was, he would have. She didn't know him. He'd loved her for many years. Deep down he knew he could never spend just one night with her. Not when he wanted a lifetime.

None of that mattered now. He had his last chance to show her how much she meant to him, and he blew it, with a little help from his brother.

No. He wouldn't blame Theo for this. At least not all of it. Jonah had asked Ally to hide all because he didn't want to share his time with her. God knows Theo would have made himself at home, ready to shoot the breeze and talk about the glory days.

Then again, Theo's sole purpose for stopping by was to discuss the date he and Cassie arranged.

His fist hit the wall as he cursed himself for his stupidity. His selfishness had cost him Ally. She'd hate him even more when she found out he'd paid her mother a visit.

Karma had a sense of humor. He'd earned Pauline's respect while losing her daughter's.

Pulling his hand away from the wall, he clenched his teeth as he wiggled his fingers. At least he hadn't broken them though he wouldn't have minded the pain of a fractured bone. Anything would be better than the ache in his chest.

A knock resonated from the door. Must be Theo. Maybe his brother wanted to have a beer with him before he left. He'd give his brother the light stuff and drink liquor from the wet bar.

Leaving the suitcase by the wall, me made his way across the room. The knob cooled his hand as he gave it a twist, pulling the door open. A wave of cherry-scented goodness washed over him, kicking his pulse up a notch. He gazed at the brown-eyed beauty in front of him. Sandy blonde locks fell in waves around her shoulders, emphasizing the glow of her skin.

As much as the sight of her stirred his heart, their last conversation haunted his mind. Pauline must have paid her a visit. Why else would she be here if not to chew his ass for talking to her mom?

He searched for any signs of her anger. Short of her folded brows, he couldn't sense any negative vibes. Then again, he hadn't this morning either. He couldn't let his guard down.

"Hey, Ally. What brings you by? I didn't think you ever wanted to see me again." Freaking idiot. He didn't have to add the sarcasm. The roughness in his voice was a big enough clue of his frustration. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay, Jonah. I deserved it, but I'm not here to fight with you." Her eyes fell to his chest then worked their way down to the ground. "I came to apologize for not believing you."

The admission sent a twinge of satisfaction through his heart. She'd discovered the truth in his words, but which words, he couldn't say. He doubted it was his confession of love. Maybe Pauline had come clean with her daughter about drinking. If that was the case, Ally had a lot on her mind. She needed the comfort of familiar arms, the same arms that held her every other time her mom upset her.

He couldn't deny those arms ached for her too, but giving in would open him up to further rejection. His heart couldn't take much more. Still, here they stood.

He stepped back from the door. "You can come in."

Ally pressed her lips together, hesitating on taking another step. When he cocked his head to the side, she moved past him. He inhaled her sweet scent, savoring the way it calmed his heart. His foot greeted the door with a kick, then the lock clicked behind him.

He found Ally standing near the sofa, focused on the hallway. The slow rise and fall of her chest became her only movement. Was she thinking about their last moment together before everything went to hell?

Clearing his throat, he waited for her to meet his eyes. "Ally? Is everything okay?"

"No," she whispered.

He stepped closer, expecting to gain her attention, but her body remained frozen in the same spot. "You gotta talk, girl. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dropped in like this. I'm keeping you from packing."

The heat of her body radiated to his chest as he stopped behind her. His fingers itched to draw her into his arms and whisper words of comfort. Pride kept the desire at bay.

"You're not keeping me. I finished packing a little while ago. If you need to talk—"

"What time is your flight?"

Clenching his teeth, he fought the urge to growl. Why did she keep avoiding his questions? She came for a reason. Whatever it was, she needed to say what was on her mind.

"Ally, why are you here? I know it's not to ask about my flight."

"I, um..." The air fell silent between them as she shook her head.

Jonah curled his fingers over her shoulder, urging her to face him. She did, willingly. Her big brown eyes roamed his face before falling to his chest. Then she released a sigh.

"I had the strangest thing happen tonight. I don't know how to explain it without sounding like an escapee from the mental ward, but I swear to you, Jonah, I didn't imagine it."

The more her lips moved, the more his mind spun with questions. "Tell me what happened. I'll see if I can help you figure it out."

Her eyes widen at the suggestion before she moved away from him. She didn't stop until her fingers gripped the bar. "Do you think time travel is possible, because that's what this is about?"

"Time travel? Do you mean going to the future?" He tried to hide the humor in his voice. She was serious in what she was saying. Laughing at her would break her heart.

Crossing the sitting room, he stepped up to the bar, counting the second until she looked at him again.

"I'm referring to traveling to the past."

"Are you sure it was time travel and not just a memory resurfacing?"

As she stroked the edge of the bar, a soft chuckle escaped. "It's can't be a memory when I was never part of the original conversation. You know the one I'm talking about, don't you? It took place between you and my mother, six years ago. In fact, you and my mom had a couple conversations you kept from me."

Jonah's glanced toward the window. "Wow... You had me going for a second. This isn't about time travel, Ally. Your mother told you about those conversations."

"No, she didn't." Her voice cracked. "I mean, yeah, my mom stopped by earlier. She gave me a letter my dad wrote—the same one you read the night I left for New York."

The words punched him in the gut. She wouldn't have known he read it if she hadn't talked to her mother. Why was she pretending like she witnessed the conversation?

"I hope your mom came clean with you. It's the main reason I stopped by to see her after I left your office. I know we can't salvage anything between us, but I think you can with your mother. She loves you."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." Her eyes watered as she stared into his. They matched perfectly with her trembling lips. "I swear to you, my mom didn't tell me anything. I watched the whole thing unfold with my own eyes, Jonah. My stupid watch transported me back in time."

Had she hit the bottle before coming to see him?

"Ally... What you're saying is impossible. Time travel doesn't exist. Did you fall asleep when you got home? Perhaps you dreamed the whole thing."

"No!" she pushed away from the bar, storming across the floor until she reached the window. "How could I dream about something I didn't know happened? You and my mother had an argument on my porch years ago. She threatened to lie about you and Cassie, so you backed down. Your next argument happened the night I left for New York—the same night you stopped her from driving drunk."

"Impossible." The edge of the bar pressed into his back as he leaned against it. "Why can't you be honest and admit that your mother told you all of this?"

"Because she didn't. I watched it happen. You told my mother how much you loved me. I saw the pain on your face when she threatened you." She pressed her head against the window and slumped her shoulders. "If my mom had told me this, how would I know you stood at the train station with my itinerary clinched inside your hand. Tears steamed down your face when you finally left the station. Did you tell that to my mom?"

No. He hadn't, but someone else knew.

"Theo. You talked to my brother, didn't you? He's the only person that saw me after I left the station."

Turning away from the window, she peered over her shoulder. "I haven't seen or talked to your brother since the last time I was here."

The pain of that memory affected her as much as it did him. The way she averted his eyes said as much. Did she expect him to believe she traveled back in time?

Leaving the bar, he reached the edge of the coffee table where she stood. "You're telling me that a watch transported you back in time to witness all this and now you believe me?"

"Yes." The hardness in her eyes faded the longer they stared at each other. "Okay, so hearing it come from your mouth isn't as convincing."

He fought back laughter. None of this was humorous, but he didn't know how else to react. He covered his eyes and massaged the tension from his temples. "Forget that what you're claiming makes you sound like a lunatic. I'm kinda hurt that you'd believe a watch over me? Maybe that make me as crazy as you."

"It doesn't make either of us crazy. I received this watch for a reason, Jonah—to right the wrongs that kept us apart."

"Assuming you're right, now what? Where do we go from here?" The gruffness in his voice caused Ally to wince. "Knowing the truth changes nothing. Your life is here in Savanna. Mine is in L.A. Long-distance relationships don't work."

"So you're not willing to try?"

"My God. I've stood by and watched you walk out of my life twice. I happened six years ago because I was a coward, and six hours ago, because I wasn't. This won't work."

"I... I see." She pressed her lips together, shifting her focus to the floor. "I better go." Sweeping past him, she stopped just shy of the chair. She took a moment to meet his eyes with her tear filled ones. "You were right—about what you said to my dad the first time you met him. You made me laugh and smile."

All the blood drained from Jonah's face. Ally didn't know about the conversation he had with her father. He'd forgotten it himself. Now, every word played though his mind.

Had her father told her about the conversation, she would have mentioned it before. She told Jonah everything else about her dad. That could only mean one thing. The story about the watch had to be true. She knew too many details.

Footsteps sounded in his ears, drawing his attention back to Ally. Her retreating figure sent an icy chill down his spine. A few more steps and she would free. She'd walk out of his life once more, this time for good.

He tried to call her name, but the words caught in his throat. Maybe it was for the best. He needed to accept the fact she'd be better off without him.

Coming to see Jonah had been a huge mistake. Ally knew as much. She'd hurt him when they spoke at her office earlier today. Now he couldn't forgive her harsh words, not that she deserved his forgiveness after ordering him out of her life.

Unable to form any more words, she gathered what dignity she had left and hurried across the floor. There was no point in staying. He didn't want work things out.

Choking back her tears, she reached the door. The brass knob pressed into her palm as she squeezed it. Then strong arms crushed hers, pulling her against a broad chest. The warmth of Jonah's body drew out the fear and the anger eating away at her soul.

Jonah squeezed her closer, the heat of his breath caressing her ears. "I can't do this, Ally." Raw emotion cracked in his voice. Then he pressed his face into her neck, mumbling against her skin. "I can't lie to you or myself, anymore. I don't want you to go."

"Jonah..."

He spun her around to face him, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "I didn't think I'd get over you before. I'm not sure I did. If you walk out that door, I won't recover this time."

"But you said this wouldn't work because we live on opposite sides of the country."

"We'll find a way, Ally. I'll do whatever it takes. I have to." His green eyes roamed her face, burning bright with desire. "I've loved you for so long, I don't know how to love anyone else. If you feel the same—"

"I do," she whispered, brushing his lips with her finger. "You know I do, Jonah."

He released the breath he'd been holding. Longing swelled in his eyes, and his lips when they swept across hers. "Stay with me, Ally."

She couldn't have argued even if she'd wanted. The weight of his body pinned her to the door. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, drawing it between his as a moan slipped out.

Fire engulfed his eyes when he pulled away. He caressed her legs, scorching her skin as his hands slid up her skirt. They left a trail of gooseflesh in their wake, especially when he lifted against the door.

Their lips met again, teasing, parting, melding. The room shifted as they turned. Then the coolness of the door left her back. She loved the feel of his arms crushing her body to his. They held her tighter with each step he took. She didn't know where he was taking her nor did she care. She only had one desire—to end a six-year-old ache.

Long strides brought them to another door. It closed behind them before she uncurled her body from his. As she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, she told herself to slow down. They had all night. She could savor every moment if she wanted to, but that wouldn't happen until he buried himself inside her.

A few seconds later, his shirt hit the floor, followed by her blouse and bra.

They didn't stop there. He worked her skirt past her hips. It tumbled to the floor as a zipper growled to life. Jeans plopped against the carpet, then Jonah's hands went back to her waist. She enjoyed the way he stroked her body, increasing the desire pooling in her belly.

The heat of his mouth left hers as he licked a path down her neck. She arched her body to encourage him further, and he obliged. Her nipple slid into his mouth as he flicked it with his tongue.

Moans filled the air as did the sound of cotton ripping. Jonah tugged on her panties again. The delicate material snapped on either side of her hips, sending the only barrier between them to the floor.

Wet warmth pooled between her thighs. She wanted him to lose control, to give into the primal part of him and please her beyond comprehension.

Heat burned her cheeks when he pulled away and ran his eyes over her naked body. She'd never been so vulnerable around him. Body and soul bared, she hoped he liked what he saw. God knows she was enjoying every rock hard inch of him.

His smiled settled her heart. He pulled her back against him, locking his eyes with hers. "You're more beautiful than I imagined."

For the first time in years, she felt wanted, and she succumbed to the want.

They fell into bed, laughing when they bumped heads. It wasn't enough to kill the mood. Her desire for him increased. In one swift motion, he pressed her to the bed.

Cradling him between her thighs, their lips met once more, drawing out slow, sensual kisses. He held her hips, teasing her swollen flesh with his tip. The way her belly fluttered each time he pulsed against her had her hips rocking up to his, but he pulled away. If he didn't satisfy the ache consuming her, she'd lose her mind.

"Jonah," she whispered. "Please..." He had her so dazed she couldn't form a sentence.

Need built deep within, forcing a moan from her lips. The sound had been his undoing. A surge of fire engulfed her as he slid his cock inside and plunged deep.

Everything around her faded. She rocked her hips with his—the pleasure was too much to contain. Her body spasmed each time he pumped his hips. She wanted more—needed more—of him, and Jonah happily obliged.

Jonah gripped Ally's shoulders, pulling her into the speed of his thrusts. The faster he pumped his hips, the louder her voice grew. He wanted to hear the sweet sound and feel her body writhing under his.

Thrusting deeper, he groaned against her lips when she tightened around him. Anticipation built at the thought of her shouting his name as she came. He slipped his hand between the bed, gripped her ass, and sank his cock as far as her body would allow. A smile spread over his lips when his name left hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him full access. He took control. Powerful thrusts took him to the hilt. Ally's legs trembled as he held his cock deep, teasing her clit with the friction between them. The more he rubbed against her, the more her legs shook. Then the sound he'd been waiting to hear filled his ears.

Ally cried his name.

Wave after delicious wave, her body pulsed around him—squeezing, releasing, quaking. Every inch of him throbbed. He fought to keep his name on her tongue, but the urge became too much. The fire she stoked within his soul blazed beyond control, and his resolve went up in flames. His groan vibrated between them. He plunged a final time, swelling deep within her. Then need overcame him. He spilled inside her, collapsing just a moment later.

Breath by labored breath, he held onto the moment, enjoying the way her body felt under his. Then he met her eyes, noting the way love shined inside them. After six long years, she was finally his, and she was worth every bit of the wait. That much he knew. Hopefully she felt the same. The way her lips curled up was answer enough.

Keeping in her in his arms, he slid to the side, holding onto her. He'd never let her go again, not after the gift she gave him—her love, her trust, and most of all, her heart.

# Epilogue

Ally tuned out the passing traffic of Broughton Street, focusing solely on the rise and fall of Jonah's chest. Nestled between his arms, they both gazed at the quaint antique shop.

"Mystique Antiques," Jonah mumbled in the space between her neck and shoulder, just before he kissed it. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah," she answered, gazing at her wrist. A twinge of sadness stole her breath as she ran her finger of the face of the watch. As much as she disliked it at first, deep down she knew of the magic contained within those tiny gears.

It had been the seconds on the watch that gave her a second chance with Jonah. Twila convinced her that the watch wasn't broken nor was her relationship with him. Ally would always be grateful to her.

"We better hurry. We have a lot to do before the wedding this evening. If I'm late, my brother will kill me."

Nodding, she slipped out of his arms, but not before stealing a kiss. "Don't worry. We won't be late. I'm always punctual."

A low rumble of laughter echoed from his chest as he thumbed over the watch on her wrist. "Yeah, I know. Had it not been for this thing..."

She cupped his cheek. "You never have to worry about that again. We have the rest of our lives to enjoy every single second together. Till death do us part, remember?"

Jonah nodded, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed the golden band on her finger—the one that signified their union. Then his eyes shifted to the matching band on his finger. "Think Theo and Cassie will be as happy as us?"

"As long as he makes her laugh and smile, I think anything is possible." She didn't miss the way his lips curled before she turned went inside the shop.

The cool air brushed her skin once Jonah closed the door behind them. It didn't take her long to find Twila standing in the distance. Her eyes brightened with recognition.

"How are ya'll doing today?" Her cheerful, southern drawl made Ally smile. She missed that sound, and the kind faces that came along with the South. It wasn't hard to convince John Muncy to move her to the L.A. office after she scored Jonah's investment account. Still, part of her heart would remain in Savannah. It's where her and Jonah's life together began, even as husband and wife.

Making her way to the counter, Ally released Jonah's hand. She unclasped the watch on her wrist and set it on the glass counter when she reached it.

Twila picked up the watch. The creased between her brows deepened. "Is something wrong with it, dear?"

"Not at all," Ally smiled. "I think my time with the watch has come to and end." She glanced back at Jonah, who was eyeing an antique fountain pen. "I think someone else can enjoy its magic. I already have."

Twila snickered as her attention shifted to Jonah. She opened the door to the glass counter, working the watch over one a display before locking it back. Her eyes trailed over Ally a second later. "I have something else for you."

"Beg your pardon?" Curiosity churned in Ally's mind. She looked at Jonah again, curious to know if he purchased something for her before their arrival? It would be just like him to surprise her with a gift. "Did my husband—"

"No," Twila laughed, pushing away from the counter. "The gift is from me. I know the items in my store have a _magical_ way of bringing happiness to the people who receive them. It isn't too often that I get to see that happiness with my own eyes. You have given me such a gift today."

As Twila made her way to the back of the store, Jonah wrapped his arm around Ally's waist. Then the heat of his breath teased her neck. "Everything okay?"

"I think so. Twila said she has a gift for me. It's something she wants me to have."

"Oh boy," he chuckled.

Ally noticed the antique pen in Jonah's hand. Arching her brow, she stroked the barrel, enjoying the feel of mother-of-pearl. "You know you'll turn her life upside down, don't you?"

"Who?" He asked, trying to hide the grin tugging his lips.

"Fiona. That's who you had in mind for the pen, right?"

"Yep." He set the pen on the counter and laughed just as Twila returned.

"I'll ring that up for you in a minute, sweetheart," she cooed, handing Ally a box no bigger than a paperback novel. "If you don't mind, I'd love for you to open it now."

Ally slipped her finger under the lid and shimmied it loose. The light above them hit the silver just right, sending a blinding spark toward the sky.

It was Jonah who spoke first as they gazed inside at the rattle. "Whoa." He stroked the curve of the bell on the end. "Does that mean..."

The question fell short as he choked on his words. He'd made the connection, just like she had. The way his hand cradled her stomach proved as much.

It made sense now. The flip-flopping in her belly. How certain foods made her want to run for the bathroom. And she thought she had caught a virus.

Gentle laughter filled the shop as Twila's voice circled around them, confirming what both knew in their hearts. "There's nothing like the patter of little feet."

Ready for Book 2 of the Touched by Magic series? Check out Longing for You.

# Also by Kelli McCracken

_Longing for You (Touched by Magic Series, Book 1)_

One, stupid mistake ruined Theo's chance with Cassie. He's returned home for redemption, but his pride—and a secret—threaten to destroy everything.

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_Colliding with You (Touched by Magic, Book 2)_

Life's unexpected turns prevented Jesse from pursuing Cori. The one thing that caused him to leave town reunites them, and this time, Jesse is playing for keeps.

# Afterword

Dear Reader,

* * *

Thank you for reading _Only in Time_. I hope you enjoyed Ally and Jonah's story. If you did, please consider leaving a short review on Amazon.

So how do you find out when my next book is available? Sign up for my newsletter. Don't forget to Like me on Facebook and/or Follow me on Twitter.

It's been a pleasure sharing my fictional world with you. All my best.

* * *

~Kelli McCracken, Author

# About the Author

Kelli McCracken is an author of rock-star themed contemporary and paranormal romance. She loves penning a good, sexy story that stirs emotions and tantalizes the senses. Most days you'll find Kelli knee-deep in chocolate bars, coffee, and kooky characters. She is a connoisseur of chocolate, professional percolator, and a master in the art of procrastination.

* * *

When she's not writing, chatting with readers, or plotting her next story, Kelli loves to read, listen to music, and most of all, spend time with her family. She lives in Northeast Kentucky, is the mother of four, and is happily married to her husband, James. To learn more about the author, visit her website at www.kellimccracken.com

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# Contact Information

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