An all-new emotionally-charged romance is out this week from author Marni Mann, and I have a sneak peek for you.
Excerpt
I went to Alix’s table, stood right at her side, and put my back toward my date. “Excuse me,” I said.
Rose was already looking at me.
Not Alix.
I had to wait for her to slowly turn to me, her gaze gradually lifting until it reached my face. “Hi.”
“I want to give you something.”
She smiled out of nervousness. “Okay.”
“Give me your hand.”
“She’s not giving you anything until I know what this is about,” Rose said.
The dynamics of their friendship were defined in that moment.
So were their personalities.
I glanced at Rose. “What I’m about to give her isn’t going to hurt her.”
“I don’t know that.”
I reached into my back pocket again, took out my wallet, and gave it to her. “You have everything in there—my ID, pilot’s license, credit cards, debit card, and over a thousand in cash. If something happens to her, you can hand it over to the police. Except for the cash; you keep that.”
She looked up from her palm where it was all resting and eventually said, “Fair enough.”
My stare returned to Alix. “Please give me your hand.”
She lifted it off her lap, and as it moved through the air, I caught it and flipped her hand around. As I held her palm face up, I took a pen out of my jacket and pressed it against her skin, running the tip length-wise.
When I finally released her, she looked at it to see what I had written. “Your phone number?”
I nodded.
“You could have typed it into my cell.”
“That’s too impersonal.”
“And writing on my hand isn’t?”
Out of all the questions, she’d asked that one.
“I got to touch you,” I said, my tongue circling the corner of my lip from the memory of what she had felt like. “And then I got to watch and feel the way you responded to me.”
She searched my eyes, her cheeks beginning to redden. “I could be married.”
I didn’t care if she was.
That was how strongly I felt for this girl after being in her presence for only a minute.
“Then, don’t call me. Or do. The decision is up to you.”
When I took a few steps toward Rose, Alix said, “Where are you going?”
I waited for Rose to put my wallet on top of my hand before I said, “The airport. I have a plane to fly.”
“You’re a pilot.” She didn’t say it as though she were questioning me. She said it like she was storing the information, cementing it in her brain even though this was the second time I’d told her.
“I’m many things,” I answered, and then I left the restaurant.
Thirty-eight minutes later, I was in the air.