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They grow up so fast.

A pang of envy weighs on my heart. I’ve always wanted a daughter. Chase is the love of my life. He is perfect in every way, and I wouldn’t change him for the world, but I’ve always wanted more than one kid. And the thought of a little girl… Who am I kidding, the thought of a baby boy gets me just as mushy. I just want another one!

Oh well. That time of my life is over now. I need to forget about it and move on. Focus on Chase and focus on my work. Forty and divorced isn’t a good combination for making babies.

Mayor Anderson parks her compact car next to us and gets out, all smiles.

“This is a decent turnout,” she says.

She waves and says hello to everyone she meets, then comes over to me and whispers, “This isn’t a hundred people.”

“It’s still early.” I look at my watch. We still have ten minutes before we start.

“I think you’ll be satisfied,” Avery says cryptically.

“What about gardening tools? We need to take care of the overgrown grass on the side of the road.”

“They’re coming,” Ethan says.

Good. Because I sure don’t have any. Though I did tell several people about it and hope some of them remembered.

We’re talking logistics when a line of pickup trucks drive into the parking lot honking.

Blake’s truck is at the front.

He parks next to us, and he and Bryce get out.

Five more cars come in behind them.

It’s the entire baseball team.

Blake gives me a half grin before turning to the mayor.

“You wanted gardeners?” He walks behind his car and pulls up the tarp covering the bed. It’s packed with gardening equipment, weed whackers, and even a chain saw.

“I’m glad to see you don’t hold a grudge,” Mayor Anderson says.

“Dogwood is my town too. I respect the council’s decision.” He pats the mayor’s arm in a friendly slap, which has her eyes bulging to three times their normal size. “But I haven’t completely given up. You’ll be hearing from me soon.”

“I look forward to it.” She rubs her arm with an expression that is anything but pleasure.

What was that about?

The rest of the players get out of their cars and come up to the truck and each grab a tool.

I grab a pile of large shirts and go around handing them out.

“You won the bet,” I say to Blake as I hand him a shirt. “You didn’t have to come.”

He doesn’t grab it. Instead, he pulls on the hem of his shirt. “I was going to come anyway. This way, I get a free dinner too.”

He lifts his shirt over his head, and all the blood in my body rushes to my ears and lady parts.

He’s standing close enough that a cloud of cologne surrounds me as I stare dumbfounded at miles and miles of muscled chest, massive shoulders, and sinuous arms, all covered by velvety smooth skin sprinkled with hair. I lick my dry lips. My fingers itch to touch him. And when he reaches out for the shirt in my hand, my fingers are so tense it takes him three pulls to get it out of my grip.

“You have one for me?” Bryce asks.

“What?”