Myles Cartwright and the rest of the trio, sans the sax player, were back onstage, easing into a gentle number that would pull the crowd along like a lazy current before shooting the rapids. Chatter receded into the background as the music swept the room.Rachel raised her arm, waving toward the entrance. Mason couldn’t see who she was waving at but assumed it was her friend. He was glad she’d finally arrived because now he could gracefully bow out. The day had been so long that he would have to check the fossil record to reconstruct what had happened before lunch.He glanced around for Blues to tell him he was leaving, not paying attention as Rachel and her friend embraced. When he looked back at them, Abby was standing next to Rachel, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wet from the wind, and her mouth an expectant half-moon.“Hey,” he said, instinctively taking her hand.“Hey, you,” she answered, covering his with hers.It was what they’d said the first time they’d met. He’d taken her hand then as well, not giving it back until she told him he’d have to feed her if he didn’t.
