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stage to show what it could do.
    Brock had known how to spot a window of opportunity. To have not made a move would have been like
banging on a locked door when there was a perfectly
good window to sail through. He was no fool.
    "Management was getting a little antsy about losing
their drinking crowd so I offered to step onto the stage
and do a solo set to keep the crowd happy. At least until
the headlining act got his head out of the toilet. All
things considered, management offered me the stage.
I'd never played a live show solo before. There was
comfort in having some familiar faces on stage with
me, even if I was the only one singing. But luckily, I
managed to get Will's attention."
    Of course, it almost hadn't happened. Brock recalled
how when he'd stepped onto the stage and the spotlight
hit his face, blinding him, he thought for one brief
moment that he was about to join the drummer in the
John. But luckily, the moment quickly passed, and the fear ebbed to something exciting instead of something
driving his nerves to shreds. And just seconds after
he'd announced himself and taken that first strum on
the guitar he'd borrowed from the other band, he could
hear the silence of the room like the beat of a drum.

    When the set was over and he'd stepped off the stage
amidst a roaring crowd and headed to the bar for something to drink, the interest in Will Harlen's face was
unmistakable. Will had bought him the drink that night
and said, "Kid, I'm going to make you a star."
    Normally Brock would have just shrugged it off. He
lived in the real world where stars were in the sky and
people were just people. But he'd been riding the high
of that show, still feeling the adulation of the crowd and
his own satisfaction. When Will said the words they'd
sounded like music to his ears and like a kid wanting to
believe in Santa, Brock wanted to believe him.
    He sighed, bringing his thoughts back to the present.
Twenty-three cities in twenty-five days.
    "He's not the only eye you caught," Josie said, burrowing into his thoughts.
    "We've got a short time to shape you all into a tight
band," Will was saying as he poured over some paperwork. Pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, he
punched a number in with his thumb. "Twenty-three
cities in twenty-five days is the best way to do that. The
first few shows will be small. You're already getting the
feel of each other like newly weds. Three weeks from
now-"
    His call must have connected because Will was now
totally focused on the conversation he was having with the person on the other end of the line. Brock had no
doubt Will was making sure things happened.

    He was going to be a star, Josie thought as she
stroked Dexter's back. There was no doubt in her mind.
He'd caught her eye as fast and sharp as Will's, but for
a different reason.
    Brock stood apart from the rest of the boys on the bus.
She stood apart from all of them. But Brock was definitely something to look at. He shined like a new copper
penny.
    It wasn't glitz and glamour. Sure, he was handsome
with his angular jaw and the authentic cowboy look. He
cleaned up better than most men she'd ever met in her
life. But it was more than that. There was nothing
phony about Brock Gentry. He wasn't hotheaded or
impulsive. He thought before he spoke, and truly meant
the things he said. And everybody listened to him.
    Brock pulled himself up from the seat beside hers
and moved toward the front where he stood in the aisle,
listening to whatever Will was saying to the other person on the phone, taking it all in. He seemed oblivious
to how the other band members saw him.
    He was different all right. And he definitely was not
wearing a blue suit.
    Josie sighed as she glanced out at the passing scenery,
seeing but not really taking it all in. Dex seemed comfortable on her lap, warming her with his body and his
companionship. The world would be an easier place if a
woman only felt the need