"Great show, Amanda," beamed the auctioneer. "You
must'a made an impression on Mitchell Goodwin." He pointed
to the dark–haired man who strode toward them from
the cashier's booth.
Mitch? Now, that was a name she hadn't expected.
Memories rose like smoke from the campfire she and Mitch
had once cuddled beside. They'd gazed at the stars and
talked for hours, and ended up falling in love.
Frowning at her exaggerated version of puppy love,
Amanda swallowed a wave of nostalgia. At sixteen, Mitch
had been all knobby knees and gawky elbows. Tonight, there
was nothing awkward about the man whose long strides
brought him ever closer. Laugh lines around his mouth
enhanced his broad smile. Her own lips curving upward, she
followed a straight nose above high cheekbones. Her breath
hitched when his eyes met hers. His were so deep that, for
a moment, she let herself get lost in their azure depths
the way she had one summer night as they stood in line for
the Ferris wheel. How had she ever forgotten eyes such a
vibrant blue? Or the way his quick smile had once thrilled
her heart? She'd kept a diary that summer, each page
crammed with inky script, their initials entwined along its