Unfortunately, the great outdoors suits Jamie. Very much. Our interactions thus far have been indoors. I’ve never experienced him in the light of day. Never in the glory days of sun-dappled fall. And now I really wish I hadn’t. Because under the autumn sun, Jamie’s dark blond hair is a stunning bronze, the faint promise of russet in the shadowy dips of his waves. His hazel eyes are emeralds slivered with gold, and everything about his tall, trim body seems even more statuesque. He’s the stuff of sculptures I stared at reverently in European museums, of artwork that made me fall in love with
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