AFTERNOON MILKSHAKE

by Jennifer Morris     

I could feel the heat of his body as he leaned in and kissed me. He barely brushed my lips and yet I shuddered -- wanting more. He cupped my cheek in one hand and I leaned into it. He seemed a solid, safe refuge. He smelled of wood, trees, and earth . . . I inhaled deeply. He was intoxicating. I looked up into his deep blue eyes and almost lost myself. His arms drew me closer as his hands reached down under my blouse and he --
     Turned and looked at me from two tables over, startling me so much that I dropped my Heavenly Chocolate milkshake (but not -- of course -- before swinging it up to smear my face with chocolaty whipped cream). The glass bounced off the table and shattered in a loud explosion of wasted milkshake spray. The guy two tables over looked amused. I felt my face flush. The waiter rushed over clucking and calling for a busboy to come and clean up the mess.  NEXT