Something’s Brewing (Deer Creek Falls #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Madison asked her sister-in-law, Eve.

“Positive. In case you didn’t know, your brother is a baby when he’s sick or hurting,” Eve said.

Madison laughed. “Yeah, he always has been.” Her brother, Mason, had sprained his ankle playing basketball the day before.

She glanced over her shoulder at her teenage daughter lying on the bed. “I rushed home to spend time with you, Sophie.”

“We have my entire senior year before I leave for college.”

After a year working in DC as a Naval Criminal Service Investigator, Madison had barely been home in Minneapolis twenty-four hours before Eve shoved a masquerade invitation into her hand.

“Besides,” Eve said, “you need to have some fun. Maybe meet someone.”

“It’s a masquerade ball. Nobody will know who I am.”

“That’s the fun part.” Eve winked.

Madison looked to Sophie, who scrolled through her phone and kept watch on her as she got ready. “I thought you and I could hang out.”

“It’s a few hours, Mom. Go. Have fun. Kiss a random stranger.”

“Kiss a random stranger? Where did you come up with that?”

“Isn’t that how the Hallmark movie meet-cutes work? Strangers meet, have a good time, leave not knowing who the other person is, and find out later they’re the perfect match?”

“You two are hilarious.” Madison shook her head. “That is not how real-life romance works.”

“Cynic,” Eve said.

“Realist,” Madison countered.

Sophie held up her phone. “This eye makeup would look amazing with your dress.”

Madison studied the smokey blue look on the screen. “Nice. I can do that.”

A short while later, she slipped on a butterfly mask made of gold filigree and dark blue enamel, one jeweled wing sweeping wider across her face. Then she stepped into the fitted midnight blue dress Eve had loaned her.

Sophie clapped. “Oh my gosh, Mom, you’re gorgeous.”

“You really are, Madison,” Eve agreed. “The men at the party won’t be able to keep their eyes off you.”

“You should be wearing this,” Madison said. “I still feel bad that you aren’t going.”

“Please don’t. I’m happy you’re going. Besides,” Eve said, handing her a pair of earrings, “it has to feel good dressing up once in a while.”

Madison laughed softly. Eve wasn’t wrong. Most days over the past year had involved civilian clothes, a badge, and long hours.

Madison followed the winding tree-lined drive to the massive estate perched high above the Mississippi River and handed her keys to the valet.

Technically she wasn’t crashing the party but arriving in someone else’s place.

Still, it made her feel slightly devious.

She handed Eve’s invitation to the security guard at the door.

Relax, Madison, she thought to herself, you’re not running an undercover op.

A staff member led her into the ballroom.

The room glowed beneath enormous chandeliers that looked salvaged from a grand Southern hotel and illuminated the space with a gentle warmth as the sun dipped low.

Notes from the orchestra drifted across the ballroom, weaving through the hum of conversation.

Guests in elaborate masks moved across polished marble floors as waitstaff floated through the crowd carrying trays of champagne and delicate hors d’oeuvres.

For a moment, she simply took it all in.

Madison wasn’t unfamiliar with formal events.

The Navy had its share of dress uniforms, galas, and ceremonies, and NCIS wasn’t much different.

She knew how to make small talk and work a room when duty required it.

Tonight, though, she wasn’t here for a mission or an obligation.

She was simply a woman in a mask, and somehow that felt far more unsettling.

Before she could second-guess her decision to come, a man in a black-and-gold Venetian mask stepped directly into her path. He wore a charcoal suit and a bronze tie that caught the light. Without breaking eye contact, he plucked two champagne flutes from a passing tray and handed her one.

His hair was thick and wavy, the kind that made her want to run her hands through it. He was clean-shaven with a strong jaw, and his expression was hidden, but his stare was mesmerizing. She felt her cheeks turn hot under his attention.

“Thank you.” She took a sip of the champagne, letting the silence stretch a little. “So,” she said, tipping her glass slightly, “is this where you tell me you come to masquerade balls all the time, or where you admit this is a one-night exception?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to lie this early.”

“Good,” she said. “I don’t trust people who are too comfortable with it.”

“Duly noted.” He glanced around the room, then back to her. “You?”

She considered him over the rim of her glass. “I almost didn’t come.”

That got his attention. He tilted his head, waiting.

“But,” she continued, “I decided I didn’t want to miss something just because it felt easier to stay away.”

“From the party?” he said.

“From everything,” she corrected.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“So am I.” She smiled. “I haven’t enjoyed an event like this in a long time.”

He looked at her like he was choosing his next words carefully. “Because of the room?”

“No.” She shook her head once. “Because of the people in it.” She exhaled quietly. “I’m used to rooms where everyone’s performing.”

His gaze held hers, fixed and unguarded despite the mask. “Then I’m honored.”

“You should be,” she said lightly, rescuing them both from the sudden intensity of the moment. “You’re doing a good job so far.”

“Careful,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You look like you’re analyzing me.”

She stepped closer, close enough to lower her voice without needing to whisper. “I am.”

The music changed to something slower, smoother, and her gaze shifted toward the dance floor.

“Are you going to ask,” she said, “or should I?”

He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

When she placed her hand into his, a flicker of awareness moved through her, but she dismissed it immediately and her training kicked in.

His large hand was warm, not overly calloused, but not soft either.

He worked for a living, but not with his hands all day.

Did he feel the electric hum threading between them?

Or was she being silly, noticing something that didn’t exist because Eve and Sophie had planted that nonsense about instant attraction?

The orchestra swelled into another slow song as he guided her toward the center of the ballroom.

Garrett wasn’t sure how it had happened.

One minute he’d been standing near the refreshment table, making polite conversation, and the next, she’d walked into the room and he was drawn to her like a moth to a light.

For the last half hour, he’d been dancing with the same woman and forgetting there was an entire ballroom full of people around them.

Her hand rested in his, her other on his shoulder.

The way she held herself, confident and grounded, made the moment feel strangely . . . important.

Because of the heels she was wearing, he only had to tilt his head down slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

She glanced up at him, amused. “You just did.”

A smile tugged at his mouth.

“Fair enough. Let me try again.” He spun her gently before drawing her back in. “What’s your name?”

For a moment she didn’t answer. Her eyes softened behind the edge of her mask.

“I’m flattered you asked,” she said finally.

“That sounds like a ‘but.’ ”

“There is definitely a ‘but.’ ”

Garrett chuckled. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

She took a breath. “My life just changed. Drastically,” she said. “Like, packed-up-everything-and-started-over changed.”

He raised a brow. “That’s a pretty big change.”

“It is.” Her smile was calm but firm. “Which means I’m not looking for a relationship. Or a date. Or anything that might complicate things.”

He waited, curious where she was going with this.

“So,” she continued, “I’d rather stay anonymous.”

He blinked. “Anonymous?”

“Yes.” She lifted her shoulders slightly, almost playful now. “I’d rather this just be a really good night. One great memory. Two strangers who met at a masquerade ball and had a wonderful evening before disappearing back into their real lives.”

Garrett studied her for a second. Normally he’d tease. Push a little. Try to get the answer anyway. But something about the quiet honesty in her voice stopped him.

And the strange thing was, he didn’t feel rejected. If anything, the moment felt more meaningful.

He nodded once. “I can respect that.”

She searched his face like she was making sure he meant it. “You’re not going to try to guess?”

“Tempting,” he admitted. “But I’m not looking for a relationship either.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He shrugged lightly. “I came tonight out of obligation.”

“How so?”

“Nope. Too much information.” He glanced around the crowded ballroom before looking back at her.

“Well,” she said softly, placing her hand back in his as the music shifted into another song. “If we’re both anonymous and neither of us is looking for anything complicated . . .”

He raised his brows.

“Then we might as well enjoy the night,” she finished.

Garrett smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur.

Madison couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent hours talking to someone so easily. They danced through song after song, sometimes laughing, sometimes drifting into conversations that felt oddly deeper than what two strangers should share.

They talked about travel. About favorite books. About the strange directions life sometimes took when you least expected it.

Not once did either of them ask the questions that would break the spell—last names, jobs, hometowns.

For one night, none of that mattered.

And every time he took her hand to lead her back onto the dance floor, that faint electric pulse flickered again, warm and unexpected.