Hana caught his scent, a pleasant meadowy smell, like flowers and hay. It plagued her memory and she shivered as though touched by her past. He felt mixed up in the years she struggled to forget, causing conflict and at the same time, excitement and danger.
The car waited on the driveway, matt white with green leather interior. Hana stroked the paintwork. “It’s cute,” she said with a smile. “How do you fit your legs in?”
“With difficulty.” Logan grinned and crammed his long frame into the front seat. The door groaned with age as he closed it and wound the window down with a handle. “See ya, Ms McIntyre,” he said and winked.
With a splutter and a hiss, the car roared to life and reversed out onto the street. Logan waved and crunched through the gears. Hana stood on the drive for a while,
