The days following Nook’s grand opening blurred into a whirlwind of coffee orders, bakery deliveries, and endless laughter.
Lucy had barely caught her breath, but every time she stepped into her shop and smelled the mix of fresh bread and brewing espresso, she knew it was all worth it.

What she hadn’t expected, though, was Miles Bennet — becoming a frequent, annoying fixture in her daily life.

At first, she told herself it was a coincidence.
Maybe he just liked good coffee. Maybe he just liked her scones.
But when he showed up three days in a row, always around the same time, always lingering longer than necessary — she started to wonder.

And today? Today was the worst yet.

He sat at the corner table, a stack of papers spread out in front of him, sipping his coffee like he owned the place.
Harper, traitor that she was, winked at Lucy and handed him a second muffin — on the house.

Lucy marched over, hands on hips. “Don’t you have an office to be at?”

Miles looked up, completely unfazed. “I’m working remotely today.”

“You don’t even have a laptop,” she pointed out.

He grinned, tapping the stack of papers. “Some of us still use pens, Mitchel. Old-fashioned charm.”

Lucy rolled her eyes but secretly bit back a smile.
He was impossible.

“And besides,” he added, leaning back lazily in his chair, “this place has better coffee than my office.”

“Flattery won’t get you free refills.”

He placed a five-dollar bill under his empty cup, smirking. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lucy turned away, heart thudding annoyingly loud in her chest.
She hated that he could make her smile without even trying.

---

Meanwhile, upstairs at Bennet Realty, Graham leaned against Miles’s desk, arms crossed.

“You know,” Graham said slowly, “most people don’t ‘work remotely’ by staring at someone while pretending to fill out forms.”

Miles didn’t even look up. “I’m building community relations.”

Graham snorted. “You’re circling like a shark.”

Miles finally lifted his head, shrugging. “Maybe I am. What’s it to you?”

Graham shook his head, amused. “Nothing. Just wondering when you’re going to admit you’re half in love with her already.”

Miles paused for a beat longer than necessary.

“Not yet,” he said quietly.
“But… maybe.”

---

Later that evening, as Lucy closed up the shop, Harper lingered behind, mopping floors and humming badly out of tune.

“So…” Harper said casually. “Miles Bennet, huh?”

Lucy groaned. “Don’t start.”

Harper laughed. “Come on, Luce. You can’t tell me you don’t notice how he looks at you.”

Lucy threw the cleaning cloth at her. “I notice. That’s the problem.”

“Maybe,” Harper said thoughtfully, catching the cloth, “it’s not a problem.”

Lucy sighed, locking the front door and staring out into the quiet night.

Maybe Harper was right.
Maybe it wasn’t a problem at all.