Happy Sunday, fellow Weekend Writing Warriors! Here’s a bit from my current WIP, tentatively called The Mason Dixon Line. Not much set-up needed. This is kind of a beauty-and-the-geek story, and my hero and heroine are constantly bickering, at odds all the time. In this scene, they’re in close proximity for the first time, trying to move a fridge:
When she didn’t answer, still trying to process the fact that the delicious tightness in her abdomen had something to do with Mason Dixon, of all people, he looked down. “Ready?”
She shook herself mentally. When he counted down to three, they both tugged hard at the fridge. It slid toward them about a half a foot. For a hipster artist, he packed some muscle under that thrift-store trench coat. She could feel the swell of his bicep under his sleeve, pressing against her outer arm. A totally insane impulse to lift her hand to his arm and explore the hardness under the wool came over her.
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