Tessa

It was impossible to keep it to herself.

Not after Saturday morning.
Not after Graham bought her lemonade and let her lean into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tessa found herself at The Nook later that afternoon, sitting across from Lucy Bennet with two half-eaten croissants between them.

Moose was curled under the table, and Lucy was giving her that look.

The one that said spill immediately or I will pry it out of you.

“So,” Lucy said casually, stirring her tea. “You and Graham Carter, huh?”

Tessa blinked innocently. “What about me and Graham Carter?”

Lucy grinned. “You tell me. You’re the one glowing like you just got proposed to.”

Tessa laughed, covering her face with her hands.
“Nothing happened,” she said. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Yet.”

Lucy leaned forward, thrilled.
“I knew it! I told Miles he was different around you.”

Tessa pulled her hands away, cheeks pink.
“He’s…different around me?”

Lucy nodded knowingly.
“Usually, Graham’s about as warm as a frozen pond. But with you? He’s Graham, but he smiles more. Talks more. It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

Tessa felt her heart thud loudly in her chest.

“And,” Lucy added with a wink, “if he’s bringing you around the market and buying you drinks, that’s practically a marriage proposal in Graham-language.”

Tessa snorted, tossing a piece of croissant at her.

But in the quiet space between their laughter, she let herself hope.

Maybe this wasn’t just friendship.
Maybe Graham Carter was trying — in his own slow, careful way — to pull her closer.

---

Graham

Meanwhile, three floors above The Nook, Graham leaned against the edge of Miles’ desk, arms crossed, feeling like an idiot.

“You took her to the market?” Miles asked, fighting a smirk.

Graham scowled. “It wasn’t like that.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “You voluntarily invited someone into your Saturday morning routine. That is like that.”

Graham muttered something unintelligible, staring at a crack in the floorboards.

Miles leaned back in his chair, studying him.
“You like her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Graham didn’t answer right away.
Because he didn’t have to.
Miles knew him too well.

After a moment, he grumbled, “She’s… easy to be around.”

Miles grinned. “High praise coming from you.”

Graham ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “It’s not supposed to be anything. I just thought she’d like the market.”

“You like her,” Miles repeated, more gently this time.
“And you’re terrified because she doesn’t fit into your carefully planned life.”

Graham didn’t deny it.

Because that was the thing about Tessa Morgan — she didn’t fit.
She exploded into every quiet space he had built for himself, laughing and smiling and dragging Moose along for the ride.

And somehow, he didn’t want to shove her out.

He wanted to make room.

Miles leaned forward, voice low and sure.
“Don’t screw this up, man.”

Graham stared at him.

Then, without overthinking it — for once — he pushed off the desk and grabbed his phone.

---

Later

Tessa was mid-photo edit when her phone buzzed.

Graham Carter:

Are you free Friday night?

She blinked. Sat up straighter.

Another buzz.

Graham Carter:

Real date this time. No dogs. No markets. Just you and me.

Tessa stared at the screen, her heart racing.

Moose thumped his tail against the couch, sensing her excitement.

She grinned, biting her bottom lip.

Tessa Morgan:

I’d love that.

Graham Carter:

7PM. I’ll pick you up.

Tessa set her phone down, clutching a throw pillow to her chest, laughing into it like a teenager.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.