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      To Christine—

      Thanks for sharing your hometown with me.

      Chapter One

      Pulling into a circa-1950 gas station thirty miles from her hometown, Sophia Pirelli drove to the first of two pumps and dropped her head back against the seat. Tall pines lined the roadside and dotted distant hills. A slight breeze carried their scent, as well as a hint of salt and sand and sea. So close to home, yet she was tempted to gas up and floor it back to St. Louis, where she’d been staying with her cousin, or … or anywhere other than here.

      As much as she loved her family, another trip home filled with worried looks and sympathetic, sorrowful “Oh, Sophias” from her parents might be more than she could take. Add in the “I told you so” times three from her older brothers, and she didn’t know how she’d make it through the visit. She could hear Sam, Drew and Nick already.

       I told you you wouldn’t like Chicago.

       I knew you’d hate being a live-in maid, surrounded by strangers.

       If only you’d listened when we told you to stay home.

      If only she’d listened …

      Her life’s list of if onlys ran the length of her arm, down to the ring she wore as a constant reminder of regret and past mistakes. Sophia twirled the silver band with her thumb as she climbed from the car. She’d known she couldn’t stay away forever, but the nerves tearing her up inside reminded her the old saying was true.

      “You can’t go home again,” she murmured as she swiped her credit card.

      And as if this first visit home in two years wasn’t going to be hard enough, she had an unplanned pregnancy to confess. Despite the three over-the-counter tests, the doctor’s confirmation and her undeniable morning sickness, Sophia still had a hard time believing she was pregnant. She was alternately thrilled and terrified with both emotions sometimes overwhelming her at once.

      But if the idea that she would soon be a mother felt like something out of a dream, then the two months since discovering her pregnancy were straight from a nightmare. She could only imagine the explanation she’d have to give her family.

       Yeah, you guys were right. Chicago never did feel like home. I hated living in the Dunworthy mansion surrounded by people who treated me like I was miles beneath them. So, I guess it’s just as well that I got fired for “seducing” Todd, the family’s youngest son, who just so happens to be the father of the child I’m carrying.

      That was all a bit much, even for her. Still, she would have to tell them, but not until after her parents’ anniversary party. Their thirty-fifth anniversary …

      Vince and Vanessa Pirelli had a great deal to show for those thirty-five years—a strong, love-filled marriage, three handsome, successful sons who lived and worked in their hometown. Nick, the oldest, was the town’s vet. Drew owned his own construction company. Sam was a top mechanic. And then there was Sophia, the baby and black sheep of the family.

      She refused to cast a pall over this celebration. She’d done enough of that as a teenager.

      “Well, well, if it isn’t little Sophia Pirelli.”

      The mocking comment carried across ten feet of asphalt from the small glass-front shop stocked with beer, cigarettes and travel-sized necessities. Sophia didn’t recognize the voice, but it hardly mattered. She turned to face the uniformed attendant, who obviously recognized her. She sneaked a glance at the ragged name tag tacked to the gray, button-down shirt as the man swaggered toward her and wracked her brain for a memory of the brawny, dirty blond-haired man named Bob.

      Drawing a blank, she forced a smile and said, “That’s right. You were in my brother’s class at Clearville High, weren’t you?”

      Her three older brothers’ combined high school careers spanned nine years. It was a good guess that this man had been a classmate to one if not two of them, but not enough to cover her lack of recognition.

      The man gave a scoffing laugh. “You always did think you were too good for the rest of us,” he almost spat.

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