Monday, February 08, 2010
This was a picture that resonated with my picture of what Zee looked like.
Here's an excerpt to whet your appetite - This is the scene where Zee meets Drew again for the first time.
The wind-chimes overhead sang out as the shop door opened behind me.
“Hi, Zee, I see you made it back.”
Even before Drew spoke, I’d known it was him. Some primitive sense deep in my psyche had recognised he was near me. Hell, five minutes in my mother’s shop and I was already thinking like her.
“Drew.” Annoyingly, his name squeaked out of my mouth as I turned round to face him.
My heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t changed, though his shoulders were broader and the tanned muscles of his arms indicated a life spent working outdoors. He was still unmistakeably Drew, from the faded tan tee-shirt stretched taut across his chest to the well-worn snug-fitting denim jeans. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes were deeper, as were the smile lines around his mouth. My mouth dried at the note of challenge in the dark green depths of his gaze.
“You look good, Zee.”
I fought the urge to toss my hair back in a flirty flick. I’d taken a little extra care with my clothes this morning, choosing fitted navy capri trousers and a pretty blue strappy top. I didn’t want to examine my motives for this, nor for doing my make-up so carefully. “Thanks. You still have your hair.”
Where had that come from? Probably some subconscious wish that he might have gone bald in the last nine years so that I wouldn’t find him attractive any more.
He raked his hand through his dark gold mop of hair, a slightly puzzled frown on his face.
“Yep, it was still there this morning when I showered.” A glint of mischief appeared in his eyes.
My pulse picked up just as I heard a soft and disapproving “tsk” noise from Katya; she probably had a major crush on Drew. That could mean that he spent a lot of time around here, maybe too much for me to feel comfortable.
“Well, you know, people’s appearances change. It’s been a long time.” I tried to ignore the heat creeping into my cheeks.
(C) Nell Dixon 2010