Sam called as he opened the back door and walked into the kitchen. Unlike the last two weeks, Hana wasn’t there greeting him with her knockout smile. Disappointment slammed into him hard. Hana Coswald was the most interesting woman he’d met in a very long time. She was extremely intelligent, fun to be around and incredibly easy to talk with. She could voice strong opinions without being bitchy and, more than once, met and bested his double entendre humor. Maybe his best friend Bart was right; age-appropriate women had a hell of a lot to offer. “It’s shocking how fast eight o’clock happens when one falls into bed at five.” Hana walked into the room. Sam took a step to the side, leaned against the counter and struggled to get his shit under control. Her hair was damp and little curling pieces framed her round face. Her feet were bare, and damn if her toenails weren’t painted fire-engine red. The knee-length shorts and loose T-shirt stating, “I like you but if zombies chase us, I’m tripping you”
