Annabel Fanning

Logan looks up, registers my face and smiles immediately. I hold onto the back of a chair to steady my legs. Jeez, he__ got a nice smile; dimples appear in his chiseled cheeks and there is familiarity and warmth in his eyes. Real warmth, the likes of which I__e not often seen. It suddenly strikes me that this man, whoever he might turn out to be, is genuine.

Do you like my smile?_ he asks, walking towards me._ I kick off my heels, so that when he stands before me, I am suddenly much shorter than a moment ago. __t__ the best I__e seen,_ I say honestly. And, of course, he smiles at me. __ou see these_ I reach up and touch his cheeks where dimples form when he__ happy, __these are adorable. These_ I lightly touch his lips, __well, I__ better not tell you what I__ like to do with these_ His smile widens. __nd these_ I touch the edges of his eyes, __they smile, too.