Chapter 7

The man’s eyes have an intelligent glint, and their color reminds me of the forget-me-nots growing out back. His eyebrows are what gives his face the most character; they’re surprisingly dark compared to his otherwise pale and fair features, and to the three men on my porch. It looks as though someone dipped a wide paintbrush into black ink and drew two lines above his eyes.

He’s awfully cute. He’ll be even more gorgeous with his mouth stretched in a smile and his curls dancing around his face when he laughs.

After a last glance, I hand back the picture, strangely reluctant to give it up. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him. But I arrived in the neighborhood only yesterday. Try asking my neighbors.”

With a disappointed smile, Martin tucks away the photograph in his blazer pocket. “We already did. But thanks for your suggestion.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”