Page 14 of His Tenth Dance

A single-car garage sat attached to the house, and she had three big trees in her front yard, all on the west side of the grass and providing shade for the house in the evenings. The front sidewalk curved from the small front porch to where he’d parked in the driveway, and Mission turned off the truck to force himself out of the vehicle.

His gait felt good and normal, but Mission wondered if an outdoor date was a good idea. The Summer Stroll took place in the downtown park every first couple weeks of June, and it included a quarter-mile of shops on the first leg of the stroll, and a quarter-mile of food booths, all culminating in a huge stage where bands and other musical artists performed throughout the fourteen-day event.

Tonight’s concert was Foxtrot, a great bluegrass band that Mission had heard before. Kristie had told him she liked classical music best, as it helped her focus on something complex, and she’d claimed to have used it to calm and relax her mind during vet school, when she had something she needed to riddle through and couldn’t find the way.

Mission leaned in to ring the doorbell, then fell back a step. He cleared his throat as he waited, and mentally coached himself that he’d been out with a lot of women in his lifetime. He’d had probably twelve or fifteen girlfriends over the years, and Kristie Higgins wasn’t special.

Then she opened the door.

Every personal coaching statement Mission had just told himself flew out the window.

Because Kristie Higgins was absolutely special.

She wore a pair of white shorts that landed halfway down her thigh, showing her bare leg all the way down to a light blue pair of shoes with flowers punched out all over them. Not just shoes—Crocs.

Mission lifted his eyes back to hers, his smile absolutely genuine as he looked at her. The matching-blue blouse bore white stripes and every cell in his body tingled. “Hey, there,” he drawled out. “My, don’t you look amazing?”

Without thinking—and all of the advice the Hammond men had given him at last weekend’s party completely gone—he stepped forward and slid his hand along her hip as he leaned in.

His lips brushed along her cheek, and then he pulled back as quickly as he’d moved in. “You ready?”

“Mm hm,” she said, a glorious pink shining in her cheeks now. At her feet, a cat yowled, and Mission looked down at the orange tabby.

He dropped into a crouch and held his hand out to the feline, expecting to be rebuffed with the swish of a tail. Instead, the cat meowed forlornly again and moved into his palm, rubbing his whole body all the way up to Mission’s elbow.

He chuckled and glanced up to Kristie. “What’s his name?”

“Bob,” she said.

His laugh took a deeper form as he straightened. “You named your cat Bob?”

“He’s a rescue,” Kristie said, moving her Croc-ed foot out of the way. “They all are. I got Bob at a farm where the owner found a box of abandoned kittens in his barn.”

“That’s not a rescue,” Mission said, reaching out as she came down the one step from the house to the porch. She’d looped a white purse over her forearm, and she gently toed Bob back toward the house.

“Go on, Bobby. I’ll be back later.” She reached back to pull the door closed, waiting until Bob hopped back inside. Mission caught sight of two other cats on the rug just inside the door, and Kristie had told him about her felines via text this week.

Mission followed her down the steps to the sidewalk, his need to hold her hand making him feel a little crazy. “I thought we’d go to Meltology,” he said. “Have you been there?”

Kristie’s blonde curls bobbed as she looked over to him and kept walking. Light shone in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Relief rushed through Mission. “Yeah, Hunter’s kids love the grilled cheese sandwiches, and they have a fondue pot I really like.”

She beamed at him. “Really, Mission? You like fondue?”

He couldn’t help smiling back at her. “Love it. And on the weekends, they have a dinner-date option, which is three courses. Cheese, main dish, and dessert.” He reached the passenger door and opened it. “Do you like fondue?”

She paused close to him. “Yes,” she said. “I do.” She gave him an interested, almost appraising look, and it only set every piece of Mission’s life on fire. “I’m just surprisedyoulike it.”

He lost his mind for a moment, just as he had at her front door, and he kneaded her closer. “Well, I was hoping you would, because I want tonight to be all things I like.”

Including her.

She blushed again, ducked her head, and inched past him to get in the truck. Mission watched her, completely mesmerized for a reason he couldn’t name. He snapped to attention just as she looked over to him, and he quickly moved to close the door behind her.

As he walked around the front of the truck to get behind the wheel, he glanced up to Kristie’s front windows. All three cats perched in the windowsill watching him, and he tipped his hat to the felines with a smile.

He got behind the wheel, and had just turned the key in the ignition when Kristie asked, “Did you just salute my cats?”

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