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Or anyone else, for that matter.

“What’s the right kind of scary?” he asked.

“A lot of people think it’s just disturbing things happening, or a maniac with a machete,” she said immediately, indicating that she’d given this some thought. “I prefer when it feels inevitable. The kind that rolls up from somewhere inside, and feels unbearable. That’s good horror. If you can point out something stupid that one of the characters did, it breaks the spell. Everything has to make sense and the horror has to grow anyway.”

“Are romances the same?” Her expression indicated that they were. And that he should know that. Finn bit back a laugh. “Is there a good kind and bad kind?”

“Romance and horror are more alike than not,” she said. Her frown got deeper. “But not for the reason people think when they say something like this. When they make stupid jokes about marriage, or whatever.” Finn did not point out that he had done nothing of the kind. “Both of them evoke an emotional response, but you know that at the end, the couple in the romance will be okay, tucked away and happy ever after. Or in a horror, you know you’ll be okay, because you can close the book and live. It’s the same emotional payoff, really.”

“This sounds like a much more interesting book club than the ones I’ve heard about before,” Finn said. “Are you sure it’s only for women?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

If anything, she looked baffled that he didn’t understand that.

But he let that go as they settled into their menus and ordered their dinner.

Finn had seen more than one table turn to look a little more closely at them during all of this, so once their order was taken he leaned forward and picked up Kitty’s hand.

And he could feel the jolt that moved through her as her gaze snapped to his.

“We should probably talk about how you see this all working,” he said. “As I’m assuming you have a plan, don’t you?”

“I always have a plan.”

He nodded at her. “Then tell me. I like an informed decision.”

“I thought with the kissing and the arm around the shoulders, and now this handholding, you’d already made up your mind.” Her head tipped a little bit to one side, and her gaze narrowed as she looked at him. “Haven’t you?”

“Whatever we decide, I think it can’t hurt to get out here and drum up the kind of interest we want in this,” he replied easily. The furrow between her eyes deepened. “We might as well not waste a public opportunity.”

“I told you the plan already,” she said. “It hasn’t changed. We elope. We do the married thing. Izzy and Alessandro change their minds and all is well. Simple, really.”

He could see that she believed that. But if it was really all that simple, Finn would have told his family what he was doing tonight. He hadn’t.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had the opportunity.

His phone had been blowing up all day.

Helena had texted, at an appalling early hour, Since when do you dance, Finn?

Not sure anyone would call that dancing, Raleigh had replied.

Never seen Kitty Bennett dance with anyone, Dallas had chimed in.

That’s because Kitty is a genius in the kitchen, but not exactly sociable, Cat had texted. But I guess Finn changed her mind?

Finn must have the family charm, Tennessee had replied, and that was really a step too far, because Tennessee usually pretended he didn’t see the group chat. Especially now that he and Matilda were together.

Finn had decided that it was his day to pretend he didn’t know about the group chat either. And by the time he saw Helena in person that afternoon, he’d been ignoring it to such an extent that he was considering turning his phone off altogether. Or maybe throwing it off the nearest mountain.

Did you lose your phone? His sister had asked immediately. Because of course she had. Because Helena was merciless.

I wish, he’d grumbled.

He’d promised his mother that he would help her out up at Helena’s little cabin on the hill beneath the old, renovated lodge. Helena had found the cabin when she’d come to Cowboy Point, and now Peyton was living with her. Finn had stayed there himself before he’d found his apartment. Raleigh’s trailer was still out in the driveway, but what he did there was his own business.

Or so he liked to keep telling everyone.