Once Hannah was sure Grace was okay, she bid her farewell.

Exiting the house, Hannah spotted Bryson, poised against a black vehicle, awaiting her.

“Mr.

Mitchell?”

The evening wind ruffled Bryson’s dark shirt collar and tousled his hair.

With a soft expression, he met Hannah’s eyes.

“Hop in.

I’ll take you home.

“I’d rather not.

Almost instinctively, Hannah aimed to maintain space from Bryson.

But instantly regretting her words, she hesitated, then added, “Taxis are easy to hail around here.

appreciate the

Mitchell.

a word, swung the car

“It’s getting late.

Like the thought of you traveling

hesitation, Hannah agreed

the car revived Hannah’s

her seat belt

of them spoke, and Bryson stayed quiet until he reached

generations, my family has been

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and mine

families have always shared

brought up his ties to

caught his striking face illuminated

I? We’re just acquaintances with business

of

fidgeting with her

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