Page 18 of His Tenth Dance

“The baking friends?”

She shook her head and couldn’t quite hold his gaze for much longer. She started walking again, and he easily fell to her side. “No, some friends of…my brother.”

“I see.”

No, he didn’t, but Kristie didn’t explain further. She’d have to tell him eventually, but the first strains of music came from the parallel stroll, and she turned that way, thinking,No, you won’t have to tell him unless you keep dating.

But one look over to him, and she wanted him to ask her out again. So she slid her hand up his arm and then reached over with her right one, clasping his arm in both of hers. “We can cut through up here and go listen to the band.”

“I thought you liked the shops in the Stroll,” he said.

She smiled at him, because this cowboy had planned the perfect date. “Yeah, I do,” she said. “But they’ll be here for another week, and I just like looking.” She pressed in close to him as more people started cutting through on the marked path between the shops and the food booths. “I’d love to see the entertainment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mission said, and they joined the flow of the crowd over to the parallel Stroll. Kristie didn’t normally love crowds, and she noted Mission seemed more tense now as well. She wasn’t sure why, but a thrill replaced all of her worries when she spotted the dance floor laid out in front of the stage.

Musicians moved about on stage, setting up various stringed instruments, and she nodded toward them. “What are all of those?”

“That guy in the blue shirt has a banjo,” he said. “There are two fiddles on top of the piano. An upright bass—that’s the big one over on the right.”

“Acoustic guitar,” she said. “I know that one.”

“And the woman in the red has a mandolin,” he said. “They probably have a resonator guitar too, but I don’t see it right now….”

“All right, folks,” a man called into the microphone. “Find a seat or find a partner, because we’ve got Foxtrot on the stage, ready to turn even the shyest cowboys into amazing dance partners!”

Kristie grinned, because she couldn’t wait to stand within the circle of Mission’s arms, feel the weight of his pulse against hers, breathe in the scent of his clothes, his cologne.

A man started plucking the upright bass, the deep thrum of it filling the space with energy, lighting up the sky with sound.

The acoustic guitar joined the bass, and a fiddle came in, and Kristie absolutely sank into the vibe of the music streaming fromthe stage. People flooded the dance floor, setting themselves up in long lines to go with the upbeat rhythm provided by the band.

There didn’t seem to be room for even two more, and Mission nodded to a couple of seats on the end of a row. Kristie went first, and he quickly followed to sit beside her. He put his arm around her, and she easily snuggled into his side the way she’d seen other couples do in this exact situation.

She hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while, and she felt warm and cared for at Mission’s side. She told herself she might feel like this in another man’s arms, but the thought didn’t sit well in her mind.

No, she wouldn’t. Mission Redbay possessed some magical charm that she really liked, even if he had insulted her boots the first time they’d met. She didn’t have to hold it against him forever, and she smiled up to the stage, clapping along to the beat of the poppy-bluegrassy music.

The fast-paced song ended, and the crowd whooped and hollered. The band easily slid into their next tune—a slower ballad—and Mission got to his feet. He offered her his hand, and she watched his eyebrows go up, a silent invitation for a dance.

She put her hand in his and let him help her to her feet. He led her onto the dance floor as others left it. The band settled into the slower song, and all of Kristie’s fantasies about slow-dancing with Mission came true.

He moved effortlessly for one of his height, and he held her with just the right amount of pressure against her back. He rubbed one thumb in a slow circle and kept his head bent low toward hers.

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, but Kristie ignored it. Whoever was calling her at nearly ten p.m. on a Saturday night could wait. The only people she’d pick up for knew she had a date with Mission tonight, and Lennie, Jocelyn, and Harper wouldn’t be calling right now.

That fact made her heart squeeze a bit too tight, and Mission murmured, “You okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered back.

“You tensed up.”

She tilted her head back. “I’m okay.”

He searched her face, then blinked, his expression softening. “All right, kitten.” The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he pressed his cheek to hers and kept her swaying back and forth on the hard tiles which had been laid over the grass here in the downtown park.

She appreciated that he simply accepted her declaration that she was okay…and then held her closer, which only made her feel more protected, more cherished, and like what he’d said back at the fondue restaurant could be true.

He didn’t want another man looking at her, and if they did, he wanted them to know she wasn’t available.

---