Tessa

A week passed in a blur of freelance gigs, editing marathons, and long walks with Moose.

She liked the rhythm she was finding here — the way the city breathed slower, kinder, than the one she’d left behind.

She liked The Nook too, especially in the mornings when the smell of fresh scones drifted out onto the sidewalk and Lucy’s laughter tumbled into the street.

Tessa settled at one of the small outdoor tables, Moose flopped lazily at her feet, camera bag slung over the back of her chair.
She was editing some shots from a local art fair, squinting at her laptop screen in the bright sunlight.

“You know,” Lucy said, dropping a cappuccino onto Tessa’s table without asking, “if you keep working out here, I’m going to have to start charging you rent.”

Tessa grinned up at her. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Obviously,” Lucy said, ruffling Moose’s ears.

Tessa blew a kiss dramatically after her as she bustled back inside.

She didn’t notice Graham right away.

Not until Moose perked up, tail thumping against the table leg.

Tessa followed the dog’s gaze — and found Graham standing at the counter inside, waiting for a coffee.

He wasn’t looking at her.

Not directly, anyway.

But she caught the flicker of his eyes — quick, like he couldn’t help it — before he turned stiffly back to Miles, who was ribbing him about something behind the counter.

Tessa bit back a smile.

For someone who claimed he didn’t like dogs — or chaos — Graham certainly tolerated a lot of both lately.

---

Graham

It was supposed to be a normal morning.

Coffee, maybe a scone if Miles hadn’t burned them again, then straight upstairs to work.

No distractions.

No detours.

But then he saw her — hunched over her laptop, a pencil tucked behind one ear, a camera bag spilling open beside her chair.

And Moose, of course, sprawled like he owned the entire sidewalk.

Graham accepted his coffee from Miles with a muttered thanks and turned, fully intending to leave.

He made it two steps before Moose trotted over, leash trailing behind him like an afterthought.

The dog plopped down directly in Graham’s path, staring up at him with hopeful, slightly manic energy.

Graham looked down.

Moose looked up.

A standoff.

“Traitor,” Graham muttered, glancing toward Tessa.

She was watching with an apologetic smile, standing to reel in the leash.

“Sorry,” she said, winding the cord around her hand. “He thinks everyone is his best friend.”

Graham snorted before he could stop himself.

“Selective memory,” he said dryly. “He growled at me last time.”

Tessa laughed, that bright, clear sound that always seemed to punch straight through his armour.

“He’s moody,” she said, shrugging like it explained everything. “Must be a type.”

Graham’s mouth twitched despite himself.

Miles watched from behind the counter, grinning like he knew exactly what was happening and wasn’t about to help either of them.

“You staying out here?” Graham asked, jerking his chin toward her table, more awkward than he intended.

Tessa nodded. “Got some edits to finish. You?”

Graham hesitated.

He could say he had work.

He could say he was busy.

Instead, he shrugged. “Figured I’d stay too. For a bit.”

Tessa’s smile brightened, and Moose, sensing a win, curled up happily at Graham’s feet.

Graham sat down at the nearest table — not hers, but close enough.

He opened his laptop.

Pretended to work.

And told himself it didn’t mean anything.

---

Miles (watching through the café window)

Miles shook his head, smiling.

“Lucy,” he called into the kitchen. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

Lucy’s laughter floated back, warm and triumphant.

“Not a chance,” she said. “They’re both doomed. It’s just a matter of time.”

Miles grinned wider and grabbed another tray of scones.

He couldn’t wait to watch it happen.