Page 3 of His Tenth Dance

“Cosette set up the drinks right around the corner,” Matt said. “I could use something too.” He met Mission’s eyes, and a swell of gratitude moved through him, because Matt wasn’t going to leave Mission alone tonight.

He led the way toward the front corner of the barn, where Kristie happened to be standing. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, and she looked his way as he neared.

She smiled, and oh, that rivaled the glory of the early evening sun. Mission wasn’t sure if it was the uneven ground or if he’d temporarily gone blind at the nearness of Kristie’s beauty, but he stumbled.

Jolt after jolt of electricity struck through him, and he managed to throw out his hand, hoping to find something to grab onto.

His hand landed on Matt, and his friend said, “Whoa, there,” as if Mission were a horse who’d been spooked. Maybe he had been.

His granddad came around the corner then, and Mission detoured toward him when he wanted to go over to Kristie andtalk to her.About what?he asked himself as he said, “Hey, Granddad.”

“There he is.” His grandfather’s face lit up, and he handed his cup of drink to Matt, who took it like he’d expected to play Mission’s butler that evening. “How are you, my boy?”

“I’m great, Granddad.” Mission hugged him, leaning and sinking into the embrace. “The drive was okay?”

“Fine.”

“I can take you home if it gets too dark.”

“I’ll be fine.” Granddad stepped back, his smile very nearly lifting all the wrinkles in his forehead. “This jacket looks mighty fine on you.”

Mission grinned down at the navy blue blazer. “Thanks, Granddad.” He looked past him to the corner of the barn. “What do they have to drink over there?”

“Lemonade, ice tea, water, soda pops, all kinds of stuff.” He stepped over to Matt and took his drink, then asked him something.

That left Mission to continue to the drink counter by himself. Fine by him. He needed a moment alone right now anyway, after that stumble where he’d nearly gone down in front of Kristie—and everyone else at the party.

He’d barely picked up a red plastic cup when the scent of flowery, fruity perfume met his nose.

“Hey, Mission.”

He looked over to Kristie, so many things running through his head. “Hey.” Always the example of loquacious.

“I like your jacket.”

“Thank you. I—it’s my granddad’s.”

Her face lit up. “Yes, I met him. Very nice guy.”

“Yeah.” Mission smiled, mostly at the way she’d come to life while talking to him. “He’s great.”

“Are your parents coming?”

Mission’s jaw tightened, and he moved down the table to fill his cup with half lemonade and half iced tea. He could brush off her question, avoid it the way he had for the past thirty years of his life. But something about her made him want to tell her.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Mission lifted his cup to his lips and shook his head.

“I didn’t mean….” Kristie looked over her shoulder, then faced him again. She took the cup from him and said, “Come with me.”

If she’d have just walked away, Mission could’ve simply picked up another cup, made another Arnold Palmer, and gone back to the party. No, he wouldn’t be able to ever talk to Kristie again, but if she wanted to talk about his parents, that would be fine.

But she took his hand—a gesture that sent another wave of electricity through him—and led him away from the drink counter, the party, and toward the front barn doors. She slipped inside and he followed, the cool air conditioning a welcome relief after the warmer outdoors.

Mission hadn’t been this nervous since Deacon had offered him the foreman job. But being in the small lobby of the barn with Kristie? His first instinct was to kiss her. Then she wouldn’t be able to ask him anything about his parents. At the same time, he hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time, and he really wanted a chance with this woman.

So he couldn’t kiss her, because when he crashed doing that, he’d never get a real first date with her.

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