A Date for the Masquerade (The Dating 10)

The directions Ensley emailed me were perfect. She put down how many miles on each road, what landmarks to look for, and which hairpin turn I should prepare for. It was the little things GPS never prepares you for and always catches you off guard.

When I arrive at her driveway, I pause for a minute. I expected to see her house from the road, but it is set far enough back that there’s a bit of mystery to her place. Her last name is on her mailbox, and for a reason unknown to me, this makes me smile.

Cranking my wheel, I let my foot off the brake and allow my car to coast down her driveway. When her house comes into view, my mouth drops open. The large massive windows catch my attention first. The windows are darkened, almost black, which gives her much needed privacy from the people around her. I get out of the car, with the two bottles of wine I picked up because I never thought to ask her what she would prefer and close the car door. The gravel beneath my feet crunches with each step I take. Climbing the steps, I avoid the front door and walk to the end of her deck and lean against the railing. The lake is perfect. Calm with small waves lapping at the sandy beach.

“Do you like what you see?”

I startle and am about to nod when I glance at her. Ensley’s dressed casually, in jeans, a T-shirt, and long cardigan sweater. Her long hair is in a braid, cascading down her back.

“I do, very much,” I say without taking my eyes off her.

Ensley smiles, then steps to the railing. “After the party Jordan and I planned for the Panthers, business boomed. I bought my own slice of heaven instead of opening an office downtown. Jordan and I save a lot of money this way. We have very little overhead. Some of our decorations, we keep. We have a supply of tables and chairs for small events, but we store those in a storage unit. Everything else, we rent. Makes things very easy.”

“Makes sense, actually.” I hand her the two bottles of wine with a smile. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I picked one of each, a red and a white. I hope they’re okay.”

Ensley takes them from me. “They’ll be perfect. Do you want to come in or would you rather sit out here?”

I run my hand through my hair and step closer to Ensley. I’d give anything for her to call my bluff, to tell me she knows it’s me behind the mask. “That’s a really tough question,” I say even though I know I’ll follow her anywhere.

“It is,” she agrees with me. “We can eat out here.”

Or bed. I can definitely eat in her bed.

I motion for Ensley to go into her house and follow behind her like a puppy dog. If the view is anything to marvel at, so is the inside of her room. I expected to find wood everywhere with this open concept, but her ceiling and exposed beams are white, and her walls are navy blue. The contrast is perfect.

“This is my family room, with no family though. Jordan comes out occasionally and my parents will come stay for weekends, but it’s just me.”

“Are you lonely?”

Ensley shrugs. “Sometimes, but I chose to live out here.” She walks into her kitchen, which is also white and navy. I’ve never looked at color schemes before. I normally tend to go for gray, but think Ensley is onto something with is blue.

She motions for me to sit at the island while she pours us each a glass of wine. There’s a charcuterie board with different meats, cheeses, fruits, and nuts. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“What are we having?”

Ensley laughs. “You’re the only one who forgot to ask the important questions. We’re having Persian chicken, over a bed of rice. It’s not much, I let the time slip away.”

“It sounds perfect.” To send my statement home, my stomach growls loud enough for Ensley to hear. She chuckles and hands my glass of wine to me. She went with the red, which likely compliments the meal we’re having.

Ensley sits next to me and reaches for the board just as I do. Our hands touch and the familiar zing I feel when we’re together radiates through my arm. We look at each other, our eyes steady and focused on one another. I open my mouth to tell her who I am, who I truly am, but the timer goes off. It buzzes for what seems like forever until Ensley turns away.

I don’t know if I was saved by the bell or if this is a sign I need to tread carefully. What if I’m going about this the wrong way? What if Ensley doesn’t want to know who the masked stranger is?