For one insane moment, wrapped up in the dog’s leash, pressed into the soft, womanly curves of her, he had found the temptation of her lips nearly irresistible. Somehow—maybe the warning bell in his brain screaming complications—he had managed, but only barely, not to accept the invitation of her lips.
If the dog had wrapped them in his leash after she had declared she was a warrior and let loose her hair, they’d probably be under a shrub somewhere acting like teenagers.
He should have realized, right then, this was a bad idea. That things were not going to go according to his plan.
His plan? Which was what?
Something utterly trivial like pretending to his sister and brother-in-law that Krissy and he were engaged so he could keep his car. That original mission seemed to be wavering like a mirage on a hot desert day.
Now, even the complication of the near kiss was being blurred with an even stronger desire: to see that playful light come on in her, to see her throw back her head and laugh.
Astonishingly, since he considered himself, unapologetically, the most self-centered of people, he realized it was no longer all about getting what he wanted—his car, the satisfaction of winning a bet—but about giving Krissy something.
A well-behaved dog. A carefree day. Laughter.
Even if buried in that altruism was an ember of danger that could light his whole world on fire.
They walked down the main street of Sunshine Cove. It was the perfect backdrop for a perfect day: lovely little storefronts under colorful awnings, couples and families, old people and singles made their way in and out of antique stores and bookshops and bakeries. It wasn’t summer, but there was enough warmth in the air that the day felt summery and light filled.
Jonas realized the fragrance thick in the air from those abundant flower baskets that hung everywhere was so similar to Krissy’s.
“He’s never this good,” she said to Jonas in that whisper he was beginning to recognize as her keeping a secret from Chance.
“He’s tired. You want a good dog? Keep him played out.”
“I’m just not sure I have the time.”
“Invest three dollars in a Frisbee. That will do the trick.”
They arrived at Moo-Moo’s. It was under a pink-and-white-striped awning, white painted wrought-iron tables and spindly chairs on the sidewalk patio outside the front door. Jonas realized he had not been here in years, not even with his nephews. It occurred to him he avoided the places where the memories were the sharpest, and that this was one of them.
“I’ll stay outside with the dog if you want to go in and order,” he said, realizing this had been a mistake. He did not want to go in there. He reached for his wallet.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“No, this is my deal.” A reminder to them both, hopefully, that this was, in the end, a business arrangement, an understanding between two people.
She looked as if she planned to argue, but then, as he passed her some money, didn’t.
“What would you like?”
“Surprise me,” he said, realizing handling that small challenge might reveal even more of the secret side of Krissy to him.
Chance flopped down under the table, settling on his feet.
“Hey, buddy, you’re cutting off circulation,” he told the dog, who ignored him.
Jonas watched Krissy through the window. Studying the menu, looking at the display cases. It was silly, but he couldn’t wait to see what she chose.
A few moments later she came out of the ice cream store, laden with a tray. He was not sure why he was so disappointed. It was a small thing. Krissy had decided not to surprise him, at all.
CHAPTER NINE
ON THE TRAY Krissy was balancing was her strawberry shake, served in the old-fashioned way that made Moo-Moo’s such a sought-after summer destination. The shake came in a tall thick frosted glass, and extra milkshake that couldn’t be fitted into the glass came in the steel mixing container with it.
Jonas saw that for him, she had chosen the Triple Chocolate Volcano Sundae.
And, of course, she had a treat for Chance.
Still, watching her come toward him with that tray, Jonas realized that sundae was one of the reasons he avoided this place.
Krissy carefully set the tray on the table. She gave Chance his treat: a little plop of doggie-friendly ice cream that Chance inhaled in one gulp.
And then came the surprise: she unloaded the rest of the tray, putting the strawberry milkshake in front of him. She took the sundae, and then slid into the seat across from him.
She saluted him with the spoon. “Let’s get to know each other,” she said.
She dug into that sundae with approximately the same enthusiasm that Chance had used for his treat.
“This is so good.”
The memory came, sharper.
His silence made her look up. “Is something wrong?” Krissy asked him.
Jonas could say no. And he should say no. And yet, he thought of her sharing her confidences with him.
He was shocked how much he wanted to tell her this, as if it was a burden he had carried, long and alone, and he needed to set it down.
He took a tentative sip of the milkshake. He could see why Krissy loved it so. It was rich and creamy, and the taste of strawberries was as magical and uncomplicated as a summer afternoon.
“Are you okay?” she asked again. She set down her spoon.
“Just memories,” he said.
“But good ones, right?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Bittersweet, I guess. There was never much money growing up. The resort and the dogs were a living for our family, but just. The heyday of the kind of resort they showed in Dirty Dancing was well over. So we didn’t get much in the way of extras. It was a big treat to come here. A once a year event, usually as our season was winding down.
“I never realized until I
