“Can I get something to eat or is it too late?” the stranger asked.
“Talk to Zoe,” Lyle answered pointing down, emphasizing her embarrassment. It was two in the morning, last call had cleared out the bar.
Then he was staring and her blush grew. “Zoe Jamison?” he finally asked.
“Chris Kamaka. It’s been, what, 20 years since you moved from town. I was sad when you moved. You were always so kind and sweet...except when you made fun of my curls.”
It took a moment before she saw the boy in the man before her. Beautiful pale blue eyes stared back at her, surrounded by dusky skin and those same curls she had teased him about hanging down temptingly. The boy had grown up well. Cute didn’t come close, he should have been a sculpture that an artist had spent a lifetime perfecting. Droolworthy definitely was the right word. Chris was Hawaiian in a town of miners and Blackfoot from the local reservation, here like all the others from around the world and the US because his father came to work at the mine.
“I made fun of your curls? Couldn’t be me, I had the biggest crush on you. If I did it must have been the same as a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails because he likes you.” The minute it was out her mouth, she regretted it. She hadn’t just admitted that, had she? Even so, she could only imagine running her fingers through those curls.
“I should have pulled on your hair more then. I always liked you. You didn't mind bugs and getting dirty…boy stuff.”
She tried not to think about it, him. “Hamburger all right? Everything else is put up.”