(Lucy and Miles — Same Night)

Lucy collapsed onto her couch with a dramatic groan, burying her face in a throw pillow.

Her sister, Harper, perched on the armrest, watching with far too much amusement.

“So,” Harper said, voice filled with mischief, “on a scale of one to ten, how much are you in love with Miles Bennet?”

Lucy yanked the pillow away and glared at her.
“I hate you.”

Harper laughed and dodged the pillow Lucy lobbed at her head.

“I’m serious,” Harper said, smirking. “I saw the pictures people posted. He practically saved your grand opening.”

Lucy groaned again and covered her face.
“I didn’t ask for his help.”

Harper wiggled her eyebrows. “But you accepted it.”

“Out of necessity!” Lucy protested. “The espresso machine was dying! Guests were staring! It was either accept the help or watch my dream go down in flames!”

Harper shrugged. “Still. He looked good doing it.”

Lucy tossed another pillow at her.

In the privacy of her own mind, though, she couldn’t deny it.
Miles had looked infuriatingly good — sleeves rolled up, a lopsided grin, moving around Nook like he belonged there.

Nope. No. Absolutely not going there.

Lucy sat up, grabbing a leftover mini tart from the coffee table.

“Anyway,” she said around a mouthful of pastry, “he’s still an arrogant jerk who cost me a major contract and thinks he can charm his way through life.”

Harper smiled sweetly.
“Maybe. But he’s an arrogant jerk who also fixed your espresso machine.”

Lucy groaned again, louder this time.

---

Meanwhile, two streets over, Miles leaned against the brick wall outside the coffee shop — the same one Graham’s office sat above.

Graham stood next to him, sipping a black coffee and watching him with a knowing smirk.

“So,” Graham said casually, “you gonna admit you’re obsessed with the bakery girl or do I have to stage an intervention?”

Miles barked out a short laugh.
“Obsessed? Please. She probably stuck a pin in a voodoo doll of me the second I left.”

Graham shrugged. “Didn’t stop you from fixing her espresso machine like some weird knight in shining armor.”

Miles shot him a look. “It was leaking steam. I was saving everyone from third-degree burns.”

“Right,” Graham said, grinning. “Totally selfless.”

They stood in silence for a minute, watching the late-night traffic roll by.

“She’s intense,” Miles said after a while, almost to himself.
“Focused. Stubborn. Probably thinks she can take on the world with a whisk and a clipboard.”

Graham chuckled.
“Sounds familiar.”

Miles didn’t answer — just sipped his coffee and stared out into the night, his mind oddly tangled.

Maybe Graham was right.

Maybe he was a little obsessed.

But if he was, there was no way he was letting Lucy Mitchel know.

Not yet.