During the olive oil tasting party that Phil had arranged, as he brought the fresh french bread dipped in the extra virgin 1st pressing to her bee stung lips, the generic school marm realize that her eyes were nearly level with his citrine cat eyes with dark heavy lashes.
He was one of those men whose presense was so large that you thought he was taller than he was. His shoulders were broad and muscular. He helped during the oil harvest because he loved the hard work, the carmerdiares, and how the sun kissed his skin, bronzing it to a perfect glow. His dark curly hair had a mind of it's own, always falling boyishly over is left eye. When she squinted, she could just imagine him as a dashing pirate with an eye patch