Page 40 of That One Touch

“Then we won’t let it be.”

“Good.” He tipped his head to the side. “So, will you let me drive you home now? I’ll get your car back to your house and drop the keys through the door before the night is over.”

She was wavering again. He could tell that from the doubt clouding her eyes. She was somebody who hated being helped, that much was clear. Yeah, well, he hated it too.

But he’d learned to accept it.

“You’ll be doing me a favor,” he told her. “Because I’d like to get to bed this side of Christmas.”

That made her smile again, and it felt like he’d just won a damn Grammy. “Okay. But I’ll owe you.”

“No you won’t. I owe you for the giraffe. This is us getting even.”

She looked mollified at that. “Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Now I’m going to get out of this car and run around to your side. You scoot across to the passenger seat so you don’t have to go out in the rain.”

“Okay. Thank you.” And for once – thank the Lord – she did as she was told.

Chapter

Ten

The sun had been shining for a week straight. All vestiges of the storm had long since been dried up by the heat, save for Cassie’s memory of Presley driving her home that night.

She was still mortified that he’d discovered her fear. That she was scared of some stupid raindrops. What kind of person froze up at a little precipitation falling on their car?

Apparently, she did.

True to his word, her car had been waiting for her in the morning. She’d sent Presley a thank you text, and he’d responded, but that had been it. They were back to being bandmates again. Talking at rehearsal and nowhere else. But to keep her mind off the fact that they were only bandmates, she focused on her dance classes. Drilling in the names of the last few students she had yet to memorize, and experimenting with a few different dance styles to see which ones the kids enjoyed.

“Okay, so we put our baked goods here,” Gemma said, pointing at a table that was already overladen with cakes and muffins, cookies and granola bars.

Cassie did as she was directed, setting down the only cookies she knew how to bake – snickerdoodles. They’d been her staple since she was in grade school and they had a bake sale what seemed like every other week for one good cause or another.

She’d never eaten them, though. Her mom wouldn’t let her. She could remember getting lectures about dancers needing to be strong.

“And now we put our chairs down where we want, then come for some lemonade.”

“That’s it?” Cassie clarified. She wasn’t sure if coming here was a good thing.

“Yep. What were you expecting?”

Cassie smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t think it would be so literal. Like I know it’s called Chairs because you bring your own chairs, but I just…” She trailed off, because she was going nowhere with this.

A woman called out Gemma’s name, and she waved at her. “That’s Aunt Gina,” Gemma told her. “She’s like the Hartson family matriarch.”

Cassie looked over at Aunt Gina, who waved at her, too. Cassie smiled back.

“She looks sweet,” Cassie said.

“She is,” Gemma agreed. “She adores all her family. And they adore her right back. Speaking of which, there’s the younger Hartson clan.” Gemma pointed at a group of chairs gathered together on the grass. “Let’s go over and say hi. I’ll introduce you to them all.”

They started walking across the grass. There was a warm wind that carried the promise of a beautiful sunset.

When they got to Gemma’s friends, they put their chairs out as somebody poured them some lemonade.

Once they had their glasses in their hands, Gemma introduced Cassie like she’d promised. “Everybody, this is Cassie. She’s the new dance teacher at the school. Cassie, you remember Grace? You met her at the diner. She works at the distillery right outside of town. And Sabrina, her cousin. She’s usually at college. You’re just down for the weekend, right?”