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And as they swayed there together, surrounded by celebration and more than a few sideways glances, he felt her whole body tremble, then relax.

As if she couldn’t help herself.

A dreamy sort of look moved through those hazel eyes of hers, and he had the distinct impression that she had no idea that he could see it. Just like she had no idea what it did to him.

Whatever else Kitty was, she was potent.

And when the song ended, Finn bent down. He saw something like alarm flash across her face before he pressed a kiss right between her brows, right where a brand-new frown was already forming.

“Tomorrow night, Kitty,” he told her quietly. “I’ll be there at six.”

Then he challenged himself by doing the hard work of letting her go.

Chapter Five

Kitty told herself that no one could possibly have noticed a random dance on a crowded dance floor in the middle of such a big wedding. Surely everyone would have been too busy celebrating to pay attention to anything she was doing with Finn.

But she learned otherwise early the next morning when she was up and in the kitchen in their rambling old house and her sister Indy walked in.

Indy always looked as if she’d had a fight to the death while sleeping and had probably lost. Her hair was a mess. And because it was summer, she was wearing sleep shorts and a tank top with lupines on them. Though it was also Montana in the mountains, so she had a flannel thrown on over the little sleep set and cozy socks on her feet.

She looked completely bedraggled, as usual.

Kitty tied the sash of her light summer robe tighter around her waist, then fixed Indy a cup of the coffee that she’d brewed already. She added the cream that Indy liked in a big splash, then handed her sister the mug without comment.

They both stood there at the counter, gazing back out at the hills that rose up steeply behind the old house, coffee in their hands and the June morning outside looking bright and sweet already.

The rest of the afternoon had gone nicely yesterday, Kitty found herself thinking, and a lot of the wedding reception had bled on over into the restaurant’s late opening to the public for the usual evening service.

Kitty hadn’t even had time to change. She had to jump right in, so she’d run around in the kitchen in her pretty dress, much to the delight of her friends. They had been at the wedding because they, too, were a part of the community. Esther Wayne, Juliet Cross, and Sara Jane Stark had all been dressed up too as they sat at the counter and ordered appetizers to wash down too much wedding champagne.

They talked a lot about the book that they were reading for the next book club gathering of the Cowboy Point Bluestocking Society Book Club, of which Kitty was currently the leader because it was her turn this year. This meant that she got to pick the books if there were disagreements. They all bought their books from honorary member Rosie Stark Carey’s book trailer each month—a big upgrade from having to order them from outside Cowboy Point, they all agreed—and discussed them over wine and enough cheese for an army at rotating members’ houses.

Neither Esther, who ran a murder podcast and could find a mystery in her own closet if she wanted to, Sara Jane, who was a librarian who could connect anything to anything else with a quick search, or Juliet, who hid her own steel beneath a whole lot of sweetness, mentioned Finn Patrick. Or any dancing of any kind.

Kitty had gone to bed thinking she was in the clear.

Though as she’d laid there, staring at her ceiling, she kept thinking about the things that Finn had said. She knew he was right. This was something that she wanted to hard launch to the whole town with as little pushback as possible, so there was no point being missish about it now.

She couldn’t understand why it was that Finn got to her the way he did. Why she couldn’t seem to maintain her usual practicality and clear sense of purpose where that man was involved.

Everything about him bothered her.

She’d had a hard time drifting off to sleep with all that in her head. All that being Finn Patrick pressing his lips between her eyebrows, something that should have been about as interesting as a sweet kiss good night from someone’s grandmother.

But it had been… not like that at all.

Kitty had figured that the real commentary would start tonight, after she escaped from the restaurant on a Saturday night and what was already the summer high season so that she could very publicly go on a date with Finn Patrick. She was ready for that.

She told herself she had to be ready for that, because it was happening. It needed to happen.

And when she stopped daydreaming about Finn Patrick’s astoundingly wide chest, it wasn’t because she got hold of her wayward imagination. It was only because she became aware of the way that Indy was studying her.

“So,” her youngest sister said, and drew out that single syllable for so long it became suggestive. “Since when do you slow dance with strange men?”

“Have you not met Finn Patrick?” Kitty asked, keeping her voice steady. Calm. Because that was how it should have been. That was how she wanted to be about all of this—calm, centered, and focused.

It should not have been the effort that it was.