Page 10 of His Tenth Dance

“Boys,” Gray said, his voice powerful and quiet, the way he’d always been.

Mission looked at the four of them still there. “I could use some advice,” he said, immediately clearing his throat. He’d only made it through half of his food yet again, but he sat back again.

“I have a date this weekend with someone I’ve liked for a while—and I’m pretty nervous about it.” He cleared his throat and looked at Gray first. He’d gotten married close to Mission’s age, and his and Elise’s love story was one of the main reasons Mission hadn’t given up hope that he’d find someone quite yet.

“I’d take some advice,” Mission said, glancing over to Tuck and then Tarr. “You guys never seemed to have a problem getting a date.”

“Neither have you,” Hunter said. “So the real question is—why is this woman different?”

four

Kristie’s doorbell rang, but the sound didn’t send her pulse skittering through her body. She’d save that for tomorrow night.

Tonight, she tossed her pot holders on her kitchen counter and headed for the front door, her cat brigade in tow. All three of them followed her everywhere when she was home, with her orange tabby cat, Bob, yowling with every step she took.

“It’s just Lennie,” she said, glancing down at Bob as he darted ahead of the other cats. “Or Jocelyn.” It wouldn’t be Harper, because out of the four of them, Harper always arrived last.

She opened the door, and Lennie stood there in all her brunette glory—complete with dark, shining eyes and hugging an old-fashioned ice cream maker.

Kristie stepped back, grinning. “Wow, come in.”

“It won’t take long, I swear.” Lennie stepped past Kristie, who hastened to close the door behind her to keep out the summer evening heat.

“I’m sure you’ll get it done before Harper arrives anyway,” Kristie said as she turned to follow her friend. Lennie had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, but it still hung all the way to her waist as she slid the ice cream maker onto the counter.

“I have the base done,” Harper said as she lifted the plastic bag she’d brought to the countertop too. “I just need that ice I left here a few months ago.” She exhaled, grinned at Kristie, and in all her enthusiasm, headed out to Kristie’s single-car garage.

She kept a small chest freezer there, and when the cowboys she worked for paid her in beef or venison, she kept it out there. “Should be there,” she called after Lennie. “Might be a solid block, but it should be there.”

She’d never brought ice cream to their dessert night before, but Lennie always seemed to push the boundaries. Her doorbell rang again, and Kristie turned toward the door as it opened.

Jocelyn toed her way in, stumbling slightly as she stepped up into the house and tried not to drop her immaculately decorated cake. Her dream was to be on a baking competition show one day, and she’d made it her life’s goal to know about and bake every kind of cake known to mankind.

Thus, Kristie and Lennie got to try a new cake recipe every single month at their first-Friday dessert night. “What kind of cake is that?” It bore a beautiful, bright green exterior over a perfectly shaped dome. A precise, pink rose sat on the top, and Kristie couldn’t help smiling at the beauty of it.

“It’s a princess cake,” Jocelyn said. “It’s got a great vanilla cake, some raspberry jam, stabilized whipped cream, covered in marzipan. It’s delicious—and beautiful when you cut into it.”

She brushed her dirty blonde fringy bangs out of her eyes and smiled at Kristie. “Hey, how are you?” She stepped over to Kristie and hugged her as Lennie banged her way back into the house, this time toting a bag of ice. “Are we going to get to go over your date tomorrow night?”

Kristie hugged her friend back, and then moved to get out the rock salt for Lennie. “I don’t know,” she said. “How can we go over something that hasn’t happened yet?”

“Because it’s Mission,” Jocelyn said. “And he finally asked you out.”

“You could do a fashion show.” Lennie popped the lid on her chocolate ice cream base. “I’m doing a trio of floats. Orange chocolate—like those sticks you get at Christmastime.” She poured the base into the container of the ice cream maker.

“Then I’m doing a hot chocolate float—and I don’t want to hear a word about how it’s summer and we can’t eat hot things.” She pierced Kristie with a fierce look, and Kristie held up both hands.

“Hey, I haven’t said a word.”

“I also don’t see your dessert, which means it’s in the fridge,” Lennie said without missing a beat.

“It’s hot outside,” Kristie said in her defense.

“And the last one is a bit odd, but it’ll be fine.”

“Define it,” Jocelyn said as Lennie poured ice cubes around the container, plugged in the ice cream maker and got it started.

She reached for the rock salt and started sprinkling it over the ice. “The last one is a virgin mojito float. It’s less lime and more mint, so it’s almost a peppermint chocolate float.”

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