He was picking grapes, and Mia Ginger watched him intently.
His hair was black and short, his skin fairer than most men but not delicate, with a refreshing and compelling charm.
His shoulders were broad, and the shirt stretched across them with sharp, attractive angles.
The hem of his shirt was loosely tucked into his trousers, revealing a slender and well-defined waist. Even half-squatting, his long legs made him appear tall, and his elegant fingers grasped the scissors; even a mundane action like cutting grapes seemed more graceful when he did it.
Mia Ginger's eyes fell upon his fingers again.
Koa Jackson had a pair of hands naturally suited for handling a scalpel; they were long, fair, elegant, and nimble.
The lines were smooth, the fingertips slender, the nails trimmed very short, clean and neat, resembling an art piece—pleasing to the eye.
She couldn't help but feel a sense of inadequacy and hid her dirty fingers behind her back.
