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.”
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“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. I appreciate the offer, Mr. Mitchell.”
Bryson, without a word, swung the car door open.
“It’s getting late.
I don’t Like the thought of you traveling alone.”
After a brief hesitation, Hannah agreed and slid into the car.
The subtle scent of mint in the car revived Hannah’s once sleepy mind. She buckled her seat belt and gazed out the window.
During the journey, neither of them spoke, and Bryson stayed quiet until he reached the red traffic signal.
“For generations, my family has been close with the Glyn family.
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Melina’s grandfather and mine fought side by side. Our families have always shared a bond.”
Hannah, puzzled, wondered why Bryson brought up his ties to the Glyn family. As she glanced at him and caught his striking face illuminated by the moon, she was momentarily speechless.
“Melina and I? We’re just acquaintances with business ties.”
Suddenly, a rush of emotion hit Hannah. She looked down, fidgeting with her handbag’s straps.
“Why share that with me?”
“I don’t want you to misunderstand.”
Hannah and Bryson shared a brief silence.
The light turned green. As the car moved, Hannah inquired, “Mr. Mitchell, did I misunderstand something?”
Bryson replied with a grin, “I’m glad there’s no misunderstanding.”
Soon, the car pulled up outside Hannah’s home. After thanking Bryson, she exited the vehicle.