Graham

Saturday evenings at the Bennetts’ house were one of the few routines Graham actually looked forward to.
Every other week, like clockwork, Miles and Lucy opened their home, uncorked some wine, and put out enough food to feed a small army.
No pressure. No strangers. No chaos.
Just familiarity.

Graham liked familiarity.

He liked knowing where to sit, what to expect.

So when he rapped his knuckles on their front door and let himself in, he was already easing into the night, already relaxing.

Until he heard her voice.

Bright, animated, unmistakable.

Graham froze just inside the doorway.

Lucy’s laughter floated from the kitchen, followed by a delighted squeal from Tessa.

Moose barked once — sharp and happy.

Miles poked his head around the corner, grinning wide.

“Hey, man. You’re late.”

Graham scowled. “I’m two minutes early.”

Miles winked. “Tell that to Moose. He missed you.”

Graham stepped inside carefully, like someone approaching a bomb.

In the kitchen, Tessa stood barefoot on one of Lucy’s chairs, reaching into a high cabinet, laughing breathlessly as Moose danced excitedly below her.

She wore jeans and a loose sweater, her hair tied up messily, a smudge of something (flour?) on her cheek.

When she spotted Graham, she beamed like they were old friends.

“Hey, stranger!”

Graham muttered something like “hey” back, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

Lucy glanced over her shoulder and smiled warmly. “Tess is officially inducted into dinner nights. Hope you don’t mind.”

Graham opened his mouth. Shut it.

Mind?
He absolutely minded.
This was supposed to be safe space.

And now there was… her.

Sunshine. Energy. Chaos.

Infiltrating his one reliable thing.

He grunted, dropping onto his usual spot at the kitchen island.
Miles slid a beer into his hand without asking.

“Relax,” Miles murmured under his breath, smirking. “She doesn’t bite.”

Graham took a long, slow drink.

Debatable.

---

Tessa

Tessa didn’t miss the flicker of surprise — or the way Graham’s shoulders tensed — when he saw her.

She hid her grin behind her glass of lemonade.

Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.
She had sort of stumbled into their cozy routine.
Lucy had insisted, practically dragging her along after morning coffee at The Nook.

“You’re part of the family now,” Lucy had said brightly. “Graham will survive.”

Tessa wasn’t so sure about that part.

Still, she was determined not to make it weird.

She helped set the table, chatting easily with Lucy about the new café menu, while Miles and Graham talked in low, serious voices by the fridge.

Well — Miles talked.

Graham mostly grunted.

When dinner was ready — big bowls of pasta, fresh bread, and Lucy’s signature lemon pie — they all sat around the table, Moose happily sprawled across Graham’s feet like it was his rightful place.

Tessa watched Graham out of the corner of her eye.

He was quieter than usual, even for him.

Tense.

Reserved.

Miles cracked a joke about Graham’s “naturally charming personality,” earning a reluctant snort of laughter from him — and Tessa’s heart squeezed unexpectedly.

She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
She didn’t want to be too much.

So she kept her energy low-key.
No wild stories. No animated hand gestures.
Just soft smiles, easy conversation.

And maybe — just maybe — she caught Graham watching her once or twice when he thought she wasn’t looking.

---

Graham

After dinner, Graham stood by the window nursing another beer, listening to Lucy and Miles wrangle leftovers into containers.

Tessa was on the floor playing tug-of-war with Moose, laughing softly.

Graham stared, feeling something unfamiliar twist low in his chest.

He didn’t do new people.

He didn’t like disruptions.

And yet…
He couldn’t quite bring himself to leave early either.

Moose let out a happy yip, throwing his entire weight into the game, and Tessa toppled backward with a gasp of laughter.

Graham smirked — before quickly wiping it away when Miles caught him looking.

Miles leaned in, bumping shoulders with him.

“You’re doomed, man,” Miles whispered, sounding far too satisfied.

Graham just shook his head, muttering under his breath.

Maybe he was.