“Come inside,” the manager said, crooking a long finger towards Hana. “How can I help you?”
Hana glanced down at her ring finger, flexing her painful wrist and ruing the spiteful cut from the spiky plant across the space where her wedding band should go. She sighed, sensing disaster looming.
“We want wedding rings,” Logan said. “And don’t have time for them to be sized.”
“Ah.” The jeweller smiled, a haze of romance in her eyes. “When’s the big day?”
Hana swallowed and looked up at Logan. “It’s a secret,” he said, winking at the woman. Hana’s jaw dropped at the way the jeweller’s eyelashes fluttered under his grey gaze and the speed with which she bent to the task of finding something suitable.
She produced a simple arrangement of twenty-two carat gold bands with a herringbone pattern
