Sarah made it to the soccer game the following morning a few minutes before the game started. Dressed in jeans and boots with a thick turtleneck sweater and sunglasses, she stood out among the harried-looking parents. How she could look both casual and elegant at the same time was beyond Miles.  Jonah, who was kicking the ball with a group of friends, spotted her across the field and ran toward her to give her a hug. He took her hand and dragged her toward Miles.

“Look who I found, Dad,” he said a minute later. “Miss Andrews is here.”

“I see that,” Miles answered, running his hand through Jonah’s hair.

“She looked lost,” Jonah offered. “So I went to get her.”

“What would I do without you, champ?” He gazed at Sarah.

“You’re beautiful and charming, and I can’t stop thinking about last night.” No, he didn’t say that. Not exactly, anyway. What Sarah heard was, “Hey—how are you?”

“Good,” she answered. “It’s a little early to start my weekend mornings, though.

It sorta felt like I was heading off to work.”

Over her shoulder, Miles saw the team beginning to cluster together, and he used it as an excuse to escape her gaze. “Jonah, I think your coach just got here. .

. .”

Jonah’s head swiveled around and he started struggling with his sweatshirt before Miles helped him take it off. When his head was free, Miles tucked the sweatshirt under his arm.

“Where’s my ball?”

“Weren’t you just kicking it around a little while ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Then where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Miles dropped to one knee and began tucking Jonah’s shirt in. “We’ll find it later. I don’t think you need it now, anyway.”

“But the coach said we had to bring it for the warm-up.”

“Just borrow someone else’s.”

“Then what will they use?” There was a tinge of worry in his tone.

“You’ll be fine. Go on. The coach is waiting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

“But—”

“Go on. They’re waiting for you.”

A moment later, after debating whether or not his father was right, Jonah finally scrambled toward his team. Sarah watched it all with a bemused smile, enjoying their interaction.

Miles motioned to the bag. “Do you want a cup of coffee? I brought a thermos.”

“No, that’s okay. I had some tea before I got here.”

“Herbal?”

“Earl Grey, actually.”

“With toast and jelly?”

“No, with my cereal. Why?”

Miles nodded. “Just curious.”

A whistle blew and the teams began to gather on the infield, setting up for the game.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“As long as it’s not about my breakfast,” she countered.

“It might sound strange.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Miles cleared his throat. “Well, I was just wondering whether you wrap your head in a towel after you take a shower.”

Her jaw dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“You know, after you shower. Do you wrap your head or do you style it right away?”

She looked at him closely. “You’re funny.”

“That’s what they say.”

“Who says?”

“Them.”

“Oh.”

The whistle blew again, and the game started.

“So . . . do you?” he persisted.

“Yes,” she said finally with a mystified laugh. “I wrap my head in a towel.”

He nodded, satisfied. “I thought so.”

“Did you ever think about cutting back on the caffeine?”

Miles shook his head. “Never.”

“You should.”

He took another drink to hide his pleasure. “I’ve heard that.”

? ? ?

Forty minutes later the game was over, and despite Jonah’s best efforts, his team lost, not that he seemed all that upset about it. After slapping hands with the other players, Jonah ran toward his father, his friend Mark right behind him.

“You two played well out there,” Miles assured both boys.  There was the murmur of distracted thanks from both of them before Jonah tugged on his dad’s sweater.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Mark asked if I could spend the night.”

Miles looked at Mark for confirmation. “He did?”

Mark nodded. “It’s okay with my mom, but you can talk to her if you want. She’s right over there. Zach is coming, too.”

“C’mon, Dad. Please? I’ll do my chores as soon as I get home,” Jonah added.

“I’ll even do extra.”

Miles hesitated. It was fine . . . but at the same time, it wasn’t. He liked having Jonah around. The house was lonely without him. “All right, if you really want to go—” Jonah smiled excitedly, not waiting for him to finish. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Mr. Ryan,” Mark said. “C’mon, Jonah. Let&rs............