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relationship to another level. Slow and steady—that was Seth.
    Destiny was just the opposite.
    If he’d ever doubted that, she proved it when she left without a backward glance. He’d convinced himself that he was better off without her in his life. It could never work between them. He’d come to realize he was a hometown boy. She didn’t want an anchor; she wanted wings.
    Well, she got ’em.
    But...
    Something wasn’t right. Back home, whenever he ran into her sister, or Annie, or Cooper, they all talked about how well she was doing in Nashville—yet here she was, waiting tables.
    Seth couldn’t help but wonder if there might be hope after all. Hope for an “us.”
    When his team had unexpectedly landed in the Nashville tournament, he’d thought maybe it was a sign. He’d hoped to find that she was ready to give up this crazy lifestyle and come back home to Wilmot and her family . . . and perhaps even to him .
    But he could tell that wasn’t going to happen. She might be waiting tables, but she had some fight left in her.
    A telltale warning beep in his ear dragged his attention back to the conversation, and he realized his cell battery was on its last bar.
    “Listen, Coach,” he said abruptly, “my phone’s about to die here, so . . .”
    “All right, son. Congratulations on the win. You’re doing a good job with the kids.”
    “Thanks to you. You’re the one who laid the groundwork,” Seth answered as the phone beeped again. “These guys know the fundamentals—just like you taught me.”
    Back inside the bar and grill, the dinner crowd had thinned. Seth scanned the room, but Destiny was nowhere to be found. Had she left without saying good-bye?
    Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
    All right, maybe he hadn’t made things easy on her when she confessed her dreams to him on that long-ago night. But he had his reasons—reasons that weren’t all selfish.
    Everyone knew show business was tough. Maybe he just wanted to spare her the anguish. Maybe he didn’t want to see her suffering, all alone, so far from home. And him.
    Yeah, that was unselfish, all right.
    I should go , he decided, taking one last look around the room. His gaze fell on the big bartender, who was drying a glass now that business had slowed down.
    It couldn’t hurt to ask. He walked over to the bar. “Excuse me, but could you tell me where Destiny Hart went? Is she on a break?”
    “She only had the dinner shift tonight.”
    “So she went home?”
    “Don’t know.”
    Okay, this was getting him nowhere. Seth extended his hand. “Seth Caldwell. I’m an old high school friend of Destiny’s.”
    “Max Walker.” The guy set down the glass and shook Seth’s hand firmly but briefly.
    “The souvenir shop that Destiny lives above is about two blocks south of here, right?” Seth jammed his thumb over his shoulder and waited.
    “Look”—Max vigorously wiped down the bar—“I’m not at liberty to tell you where Destiny lives. If you know her so well, then give her a call.”
    “Right.” Seth couldn’t fault the guy for not giving out any personal information. In fact, he was partly relieved that Destiny had this big dude looking out for her—and partly jealous. He fervently hoped they were just coworkers and friends but didn’t have the nerve to ask. All he said in parting was, “Thanks.”
    “Sure, man,” Max replied, and there was still an edge in his tone.
    Outside, the sultry summer air carried the scent of restaurant food and car exhaust. Music filtered onto the street from various nightspots and the sidewalk was crowded with groups of laughing people out to have a night on the town in Nashville.
    Seth flipped open his phone, intending to take Max’s advice. He’d gotten Destiny’s number—and her address, too—from Annie, a while back . . . a looooong while back. Way before he’d ever realized he might actually find himself in Nashville.
    The phone went dead, though, as he dialed the second