While she cajoled the kid from earlier to come up front and play, Devin found the will to move. He coughed a few times as he scooted over to the refreshment table.

A nurse handed him a cup of water. Another nurse rubbed soothing circles on his back and whispered, “It’s okay. It never gets easier for any of us either.”

At some point he crawled out of the dark hole of memories and refocused on the present.

Liberty had a rollicking round of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” started that ended in fits of giggles and laughter.

When he smiled at her, the tense set of her shoulders relaxed. He drained his water and strode toward her.

“How about a round of applause for Miss Liberty Bell?”

She rolled her eyes at him.

He settled on the chair with his guitar. “Before I honor Michelle’s request”—he swallowed hard— “how about if I get that frog in my throat to sing like Kermit? Anyone wanna hear ‘Rainbow Connection’?”

The kids clapped and a few even whistled.

Still, when he ended the song, he knew what was next.

Devin picked at the strings until he sensed the kids getting restless. Enough stalling. “Michelle requested ‘You Are My Sunshine’ and I’m thinkin’ it must be a Michelle thing, since that was a favorite song of my little sister, Michelle, as well.” He strummed the opening chord and started to sing. But when he hit the fourth line, his voice didn’t falter; it plain gave out.

Liberty jumped in with her pure alto, and the wave of relief brought tears to his eyes. By the time she started the chorus, he’d chimed back in and harmonized with her to the end.

The nurse in charge took that as her cue. “Everyone say thank you to Devin and Liberty for stopping by to entertain us today.”

When the kids mobbed him, Liberty hovered—but not for the same reasons as she usually did. And as they walked out of the hospital, she held her hands out for the keys, knowing he was too distracted to get behind the wheel.

She didn’t ask where to. She just drove, leaving him to work through the things he normally tried so hard to forget.

When Devin finally snapped out of his stupor, he realized they were parked in front of a . . . ? He craned his neck to look up at the flashing neon sign with a pin and two bowling balls that resembled a c**k and balls. “Where are we?”

“Duh. At a bowling alley.”

“Why are we at a bowling alley?”

“Because the name of this joint is Liberty Lanes. Come on, Devin. That’s a sign!”

“I think the gigantic dick and balls sign is what first caught your eye,” he said dryly, “not your name in neon.”

“That too. The big dick and balls reminded me of you, baby,” she cooed with total sarcasm.

“Nice. So we just parked here until I got my head out of my ass or what?” Jesus. Being a dick much? Liberty had been such a godsend to him today. He hated that he couldn’t stop that snappish tone.

But she gave it right back to him. “No, smart-ass. I’ve let you wallow long enough. You promised me supper of my choosing, and I’m choosing greasy bowling alley food.” She tapped on the windshield. “And look. It’s karaoke night!”

“You’ve got to be f**king kiddin’ me.”

“Nope. Usually I’d avoid bringing you into a place like this, but look at the parking lot. Totally empty.”

“Don’t you think that might be a sign that this place, oh, I don’t know . . . sucks?”

“Again with the attitude, guitar slinger. Where’s your sense of adventure? Besides, being here kills two birds with one stone. You can make good on both promises you made me.”

“Food is one. What’s the other?”

Liberty grabbed his hand and looked so sincere he automatically went into defensive mode. “Last week when you forced me to sing a little duet with you on the bus? You promised to sing any song I wanted onstage. Any song. And you didn’t do it that night, so I’m picking this night and this stage for you to fulfill that promise.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, sir, I am not.”

He was so f**ked. So, so, so f**ked.

But he’d show no fear.

Devin grinned. “Bring it.”

After thirty minutes passed and no one recognized him, Devin started to relax.

Liberty was in rare form—sarcastic, hilarious and sweet. He realized she needed a place to let her guard down besides the bus. He also realized how much he liked her as a person, beyond her persona as his bodyguard and his uninhibited lover.

The burgers and fries were excellent. As was the enormous piece of lemon meringue pie the waitress insisted was homemade.

They ventured into the lounge. Although smoking had been banned years ago, the place retained that musky odor. It reminded him of the years he’d played in tiny bars and any place that would have him. So he couldn’t resist checking out the jukebox to see if any of his songs were offered.

“What’re you grinning about?”

Devin pointed to “Broken Beams” on the selection page. “It’s corny, but I still love seein’ my name and my song on one of these. When I played these places . . . I dreamed I’d see this one day.”

Liberty handed him a beer. “We’ll each have one.” She sipped. “Besides, you’ll need it when you see what song I’ve picked out for you to sing for me.”

“Foo Fighters?” he said hopefully.