Page 34 of His Tenth Dance

She heard the clunking of ice against the side of the cooler.

“Apple juice, looks like,” he said. “I just took whatever Cosette had in the front of the barn, and I had to promise her that I would replace it all. So whatever you want is fine.”

“I’ll take the Sprite,” Kristie said.

He handed her the bright green can. The satisfying pop-hiss of carbonation met her ears when she opened it, and she took a drink while he opened his can of Diet Dr. Pepper.

“This is an incredible setup you’ve got out here,” she said.

“Sure is,” he murmured.

“Did you do this?”

“All the boys have been doing lots of stuff out here for as long as I can remember,” he said. “Matt put picnic tables down by the river too, because it’s nice to have a quiet place to sit and eat.”

“But the couch was your idea, right?” she pressed.

“Boone was getting rid of the couch,” Mission said. “It needed to go somewhere.”

Kristie giggled, surprised that such a sound could come out of her mouth—especially in Mission Redbay’s presence.

She’d been wrong about him for so long, and that made something inside her coil and curdle as she sobered. She liked being asked out by a man, but it wasn’t a necessity. Mission had asked her out three times now. So she said, “I just want the record to show that we still have not gotten any mini donuts.”

Mission threaded his fingers through hers and turned toward her. “I suppose we haven’t,” he said.

“What do you think about going back to the Summer Stroll tomorrow?” she asked, trying to make her voice casual and light.

Boy, asking someone out sure was hard, and she suddenly had more sympathy for every man who’d ever invited someone on a date.

“They’ll be there,” she said. “I won’t take your whole evening. Just dessert.”

“I don’t mind dedicating my whole evening to you, kitten.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be in a rush,” she said, remembering the way Mission had practically jogged down the lane to her—clearly irritated that she’d been at his house before him.

“So I won’t rush,” he said. “Dessert’s after dinner, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’ll come by and get you at, say, eight?”

“I don’t want to keep you out too late either,” she said. “You texted me last week that you’re always one of the first on the farm.”

He nodded and brought her knuckles to his lips. “It’ll be fine, Kris.”

When he used her name instead of “kitten,” she decided to let this go. He was a grown man, and he could turn her down if he wanted to.

“Eight o’clock then,” she said, wondering when they’d simply move into seeing each other every day without the need to make plans. She liked that stage of dating, though she sure did like this getting-to-know-Mission part as well.

The sun sank lower and lower, the sky turning various colors of gold, orange, lavender, and navy. The mountains started to swallow it, the bottom edge of the sun now mirroring the jagged peaks.

It always seemed to take so long for the sun to disappear completely—and then, one moment, it was simply gone.

“There it goes,” Mission said quietly.

Seemingly, the top third of the sun disappeared in the next few seconds, plunging them into inky twilight.

Kristie suddenly didn’t want this evening to end. She felt her time with Mission slipping away, just like the sun had disappeared behind the mountains.

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