“We need to be at the airport around five,” Mom said. “We have an evening flight.”

They weren’t even staying one night? Toni was starting think her Mom had completely lost it.

“Toni and I are heading to the track in a couple hours. If you want to come—”

“What track?” Toni asked, picturing herself running along behind him, panting from exertion. Running was not her idea of a good time.

“Motocross. They have a fantastic track set up just outside the city. Every time the band tours here, I burn energy on a bike.”

She wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy watching him zoom around in a circle on a dirt bike, but she did want to spend time with him and participate in his interests as much as possible.

“I want to go!” Birdie said. “I can ride a bike.”

“He means a motorcycle,” Toni said.

“He said bike.”

“Sorry, I should have clarified,” Logan said. He pulled out his phone and started flipping through his photos. “I’ll show you what I mean.”

He passed his phone to Toni, and she was stunned by how hot he looked in a form-fitting racing suit with knee and elbow pads. In the photo, Logan was leaning against a red mud-flecked dirt bike, holding his helmet against his hip. Did the man always look devastatingly gorgeous? She was going with a definite yes on that.

“Let me see!” Birdie yelled, startling Toni out of her musing.

“Bernadette, keep your voice down at the table,” Mom scolded.

Toni handed Logan’s phone to Birdie, who sat on her opposite side. “Oh, that’s a big bike,” she whispered. She touched the phone’s screen and scowled. “Who is this girl?” she asked.

Logan’s eyes widened and he jumped up so fast, his thighs hit the underside of the table, rattling dishes. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said as he grabbed the phone out of Birdie’s hand.

“She had no shirt on,” Birdie informed the table, looking with wide eyes from Toni to her mother. “I saw her boobies!”

Mom laughed, for whatever reason finding this—of all things—hilarious.

“That was taken months ago,” Logan said, inching down in his seat as if trying to slide under the table.

“Why are you looking at her boobies for, Logan?” Birdie asked.

“I’m not.”

His face was beet red, and Toni enjoyed watching him squirm. She was sure he’d seen thousands of boobies in his life, and she doubted he’d regretted viewing a single one until called on it by a nine-year-old with Down’s syndrome.

“Did you look at Toni’s boobies too? She has great big ones!”

Logan glanced at Toni out the corner of his eye before snorting on a laugh. “I didn’t notice.”

“Bernadette, this is not an appropriate conversation to have at the breakfast table,” Mom said, though she was still grinning ear to ear.

Birdie ducked her head in shame. “Sorry.”

Toni touched the back of Birdie’s head. “Eat your breakfast.”

They somehow got through the meal with their relationship intact. Logan had to listen to a long-winded, one-sided conversation about raising chickens, but at least Birdie was no longer asking questions about boobies. Thank God.

After breakfast, Mom pointed out the conference room where they would meet shortly. Toni and Logan headed upstairs to collect the messenger bag where she’d stashed her laptop.

“Sorry you had to deal with that,” Toni said to him.

“I didn’t mind,” he assured her, drawing her against him for a much too short kiss. “It’s kind of nice to recognize the dysfunction in other people’s families.”

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, and she smacked his ass. “Are you insulting my family?”

“Birdie is a sweetheart.”

“And now you’re trying to change the subject?”

“Yep.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I need to go hunt down Butch and have him arrange a morning at the track. Will you be okay alone with your mother and the dragon lady?”

His concern touched her far more than it should. “I’ll be fine.”

“After this day is over, I think a full body massage will be in order.”

She sighed in bliss, already imagining the feel of his hands on her tense muscles. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I can’t wait. I have to warn you, though—I’ll probably fall asleep.”

She lifted a brow at him. “How can you fall asleep while giving a massage?”

“Giving one? I’ll be on the receiving end.”

He danced sideways as she reached out to swat his butt again.

“Tease!” she accused.

“Is that a challenge?”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about his raised eyebrows and crooked grin. What did he mean by challenge? How could being teased by him be a challenge? She didn’t have time to ponder or question; she had a presentation to give.

“Text me when you’re finished,” he said. “Or if you need rescuing.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, more for personal assurance than for his benefit.

“I know you will. I have faith in your abilities.”

She hadn’t had anyone say something like that to her since her father had passed away. She wasn’t sure how sincerely Logan meant his words, but they gave her the fortitude to straighten her spine and head to the conference room with a confident smile on her face.

Her smile faltered when she entered the room and saw her mother and Susan with their heads together, talking in low tones, looking like they were plotting the crime of the century. At the far end of the room, Birdie was drawing rainbows on the dry erase board, her tongue protruding from between her lips as she concentrated on the curved lines.

Toni bumped into a chair, which drew everyone’s attention.

“There you are,” Mom said. “We were starting to think you’d gotten lost.”

“. . . in your rock star’s bed.” Susan grinned.

She wished. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Toni pulled out her laptop and booted it up. She connected it to her small portable projector and lowered a screen from the ceiling. Birdie frowned at her as the screen slid down in front of the dry erase board before edging behind it to continue drawing rainbows.

“Birdie, come out of there. I need to use the screen.”

“I’m bored,” Birdie said, and Toni could hear the pout in her tone. “I wanna draw.”

“I have paper and pens in my bag. Draw on that until I’m done.”

Generally cooperative, Birdie did what she was told. Toni handed her bag to Birdie, and Birdie sat cross-legged in the corner, digging through the bag hunting for treasure.

“Why are you setting up for a presentation?” Susan asked. The derisive tone of her voice wasn’t lost on Toni.

“I wanted to show you what I’ve been working on so you have a better idea how the book is coming along.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” Susan said.

Toni scrunched her brows together. She was at a complete loss.

“Then why are you here?”

“Your mother and I have been talking about the direction of the book,” Susan said. “We think it will sell more copies if—”

“Let’s see what Toni’s been working on first,” Mom interrupted.

Toni offered her mom a relieved smile and opened the first mocked-up page she’d created the night before. It was a table of contents.

“I’m sure some of these topics will change as I continue on tour with the band. The longer I’m with them, the more ideas I get. I’ll start with their history, the formation of the band in their own words. Dare saves band memorabilia. He said I can use reproductions in the book if I can secure the rights from the copyright holders.”

“Sounds expensive,” Mom said.

“According to him, it shouldn’t cost us anything. We’ll have to credit the photos to the photographer, but most of the photos were taken by friends and family. He doubts they’ll be interested in money.”

“Everyone is interested in money,” Susan said.

“A lot of people are just happy to help the people they love,” Toni said, trying not to glare at the woman.

“Yeah. Until money’s involved.”