Without all those enveloping, multicolored, and fringed scarves, she looked quite respectable, for a witch. Surely she didn’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo? While she answered a question about something, he allowed his gaze to wander from the top of her silky-haired head to the pretty, tanned toes peeking out from under her skirt. Sun-lightened waves fell over her shoulders, all different shades, from dark strawberry to the platinum he’d noticed first. Natural—no salon could equal a true summer blonde. And her cheeks bore the golden glow to match. His fingers itched to trace the fine lines by her eyes. Sun and humor. A combination that reminded him of the girls on the beach when he’d been younger and had time. When he and Sid had taken his new car to the shore, they’d dreamed of the day they’d be able to make the trip in the Charger. Covering the leather seats of the Beamer with towels and making sure their feet were free of sand before getting in, always afraid of damaging something and having to hear about how expensive it was.
