Page 72 of His Tenth Dance

“Jocelyn, this is amazing,” Kristie said. “Where did you get this?”

“This lady in my neighborhood makes them. She said she’ll embroider anything you want onto anything.” She glanced over to Lennie. “And Lennie got the aprons from her school.”

“Well, thank you,” Kristie said, looping the apron over her head and tying it around her waist. “Yours has a lemon on it.” She raised her eyebrows, but Jocelyn only shook her head. She probably wouldn’t work from a recipe either, so Kristie couldn’t even steal a peek at that.

“It’s Mission who wants to know what you’re making,” she said as she started removing her ingredients from her tote.

“It’s Mission who wants to know what I’m making?” Jocelyn repeated, her eyebrows sky-high now.

Kristie cut a glance toward Lennie, whose pink apron featured a bar of chocolate on the chest. The last remaining apron lay on the counter—and of course, it had a peach in the center of it.

“Yes,” Kristie said, holding her head high. “Okay, so, I told him I would try to get samples of all your desserts today so he could taste-test them tomorrow.”

“Why wait until tomorrow?” Lennie asked. “He should come over tonight and do dessert night with us.”

Jocelyn sucked in a gasp as if this was the greatest news she’d ever heard. “That’s anamazingidea, Lennie. Text him right now, Kristie, and invite him over tonight.”

She froze, not quite sure she wanted to unleash all of Lennie, Jocelyn, and Harper—and their complicated desserts for the State Fair—on Mission in one go.

“Well, he might be busy,” she said, her voice too light.

“Oh, she’s deflecting,” Lennie said. “Why don’t you want us to meet your boyfriend?”

“You talk about him all the time,” Jocelyn added. “We practically know him already.”

“I do not talk?—”

“Help!” Harper yelped from the front door, interrupting her.

“Oh, cocoa beans,” Lennie cried, running to get the screen door. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d hear your car.”

“I had to get a ride,” Harper said darkly, entering with her arms laden with grocery bags. “The driver was in one of those electric things, and you know—they’re totally silent.”

Kristie had been totally right that Harper had just come from the grocery store, and she helped get all the loops off her friend’s arms as she put the bags of ingredients on the counter in the last baking station spot.

“So where’s your car?” Lennie asked.

“It’s in the parking lot at Farmer’s,” she said. “I’m gonna have to figure out how to get it started later.” A long sigh escaped her lips, and she started unbagging her ingredients and looking at them like she didn’t know what they were for.

“I could call Cord,” Kristie said. “He might be able to go look at it.”

“Who’s Cord?” Jocelyn asked, glancing up from where she’d already started to sift her flour.

“He used to work at the Hammond family farm,” Kristie said matter-of-factly. “But he left a couple of years ago, and now he owns that mechanic shop over in Cherry Creek.”

“Could you?” Harper asked, wiping her bangs off her face. “I already feel like I can’t take on one more thing.”

“I’ll text him right now,” Kristie said.

“Then she’s going to text Mission,” Lennie said, giving Kristie a knowing look.

“No, I’m not.” Kristie threw her a sharp look right back.

“Why are we texting Mission?” Harper asked, glancing around at the three of them.

“She promised him she’d bring some samples of all our desserts,” Jocelyn said. “And we told her she should invite him over for tonight’s tasting.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Harper said, instantly brightening. “You know what? He could be a blind judge! We won’t tell him who made what, and he’ll come taste them all, and then he’ll declare a winner.”

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