Page 3 of Masked Secrets
“I do. As a young boy, I woke up to the beady eyes of a mouse sitting on my chest. I jumped out of bed screaming for my mum. I still shiver at the thought of those sharp white teeth ready to bite me.”
“So, you wouldn’t have been best friends with the pet guinea pig I had when I was ten years old?” She laughs.
“Definitely not. No rodents for me.”
“I don’t think my Miss Piggy would have appreciated being called a rodent, even if she technically was one.”
Her voice sounds steadier. Unfortunately, in the dark, I can’t see her face to confirm she’s doing better. Then it occurs to me that I have something that may help her remain calm.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my sterling silver, monogrammed flask, saying, “We may not make it to the Sky Lounge, but I’m happy to share my flask of whiskey. It’s an extremely fine one from my uncle’s distillery in England.”
“Why are you carrying whiskey with you?”
“I was supposed to meet some friends and wanted them to taste his latest version. It won several awards. Would you like a sip?”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” she says, a mix of interest and concern in her voice.
“Brooke, you’re smart to be cautious. I have a sister, so I can guess what you’re thinking. Taking a drink from a stranger would normally not make any sense. However, given the circumstances, a sip or two would be helpful. I’ll drink first, then you’ll know it’s perfectly safe.”
“It’s dark. How can I tell you actually drank any?”
“We’ll use the light on my phone, and you can pour a little into my mouth.”
“Okay. I guess that would work.”
At least she’s focused on something other than her panic as she takes my flask and drizzles the liquid gold past my lips. As the heat trickles down my throat, my eyes lock with hers in the light of my phone. They’re sparkling like precious emeralds, inviting me into her sphere.
“Your turn. Take a sip and let me know what you think.”
I hear her softly swallow. She immediately coughs. I pat her on the back. When she catches her breath, she says, “That’s powerful.”
“I should have warned you to take a tiny sip first. The second sip is always smoother.”
“Okay. I’ll give it another try.” Her arm brushes against mine as she lifts it, sending warmth through me.
“Mmm. You’re right. That’s quite nice. Let me return the flask now. I don’t want to spill your whiskey. Where’s your hand?” she asks, leaning into me, her free hand reaching across me.
Twining my fingers with hers, I say, “I’m right here, but you’re welcome to hold onto the flask in case you need another sip.”
“You seem to be the perfect knight in shining armor. Maybe I should kiss you to make sure you’re real. You know, like a test.”
It’s not often that a woman surprises me in such an amusing manner. Brooke is different—in a good way.
“Feel free. Testing isextremelyimportant. Otherwise, how will you know if I’m an apparition?” I say, with feigned seriousness.
She pulls her hand from mine, letting it slowly move up my chest until her fingers find my chin. Her thumb grazes my whiskey-laden lips.
I’d rather wrap my arms around this intriguing creature. Instead, I shove my hands into my pockets, letting Brooke be fully in charge of herexperiment.
A second later, her warm, velvety lips softly caress mine in a chaste yet sensual kiss.
It’s over too soon when she pulls away, emitting a soft sigh.
“What’s the verdict?” I ask, my voice huskier than expected.
“You’re definitely real and potentially . . . umm . . . never mind.”
I feel her body shiver next to me.
