It still amazed her how she’d managed to get through each meeting without reaching out to touch his sinewy forearm which was usually left bare from his rolled up shirt sleeves, or run a finger along his cheek each time he smiled to feel just how deep those dimples were. Her mother’s intentions became clear to her at the third invitation to eat out the previous month again, with him, but she’d played along and enjoyed every bit of the old lady’s rusty matchmaking antics.
