The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Bennet Realty, casting a lazy golden light across the office.

Miles sat at his desk, flipping a pen between his fingers, staring out the window without really seeing anything.
He was supposed to be reviewing a property contract, but his mind kept drifting — to warm brown eyes, to the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon, to Lucy Mitchel’s laugh floating across Nook like a melody.

“You’re doing it again,” Graham said from the doorway, arms crossed and amusement written all over his face.

Miles didn’t even pretend to be confused.
“Doing what?”

“Mooning over the coffee shop girl.”

Miles scowled half-heartedly. “I’m not mooning.”

Graham smirked, stepping into the office. “Sure. And I’m a ballerina.”

Miles tossed the pen onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. “You’re not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying to,” Graham said easily.
Then, more seriously, he added, “You like her. We all see it. She’s not some random crush, Miles.”

Miles scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s only complicated if you make it,” Graham pointed out. “She’s not your competition anymore. She’s not a stranger. She’s just… Lucy. And you like her. So, ask her out.”

Miles hesitated.

“What’s the worst that happens?” Graham pressed. “She says no? You’ll survive. You’re annoyingly resilient.”

Miles gave a dry laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Graham shrugged. “Look, you waited for the right moment. Don’t miss it because you’re scared.”

Miles sat there a moment longer, heart thudding hard against his ribs.

Maybe Graham was right. Maybe it was time to stop circling and actually do something about the way Lucy made him feel.

He pushed to his feet, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Wish me luck,” he muttered.

“You won’t need it,” Graham called after him. “But you might need a scone for bribery.”

---

Lucy was wiping down the pastry case when she heard the door chime.
She glanced up, expecting a late customer — and froze when she saw Miles standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, looking more boyish than she’d ever seen him.

“Hey,” he said, almost shyly.

“Hey,” she replied, heart skipping for reasons she didn’t dare name.

He walked up to the counter, shifting his weight like he was preparing for battle.

“I was wondering…” he began, then cleared his throat. “I mean, I know you’re busy, and you probably have a million things going on, but — would you want to have dinner with me?”

Lucy blinked.

He rushed to fill the silence. “Like, a real dinner. Not coffee. Not scones. An actual date.”

The words hung between them, vulnerable and brave.

For half a second, Lucy’s old fears clawed at her — all the what-ifs, all the ghosts.
But then she looked at him — at the man who had somehow become part of her daily life without her noticing — and realized she wanted this.

She wanted him.

A slow smile curved her lips.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Miles’ whole face lit up, boyish and breathtaking.

“Yeah?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, laughing.

He grinned back, and for the first time in a long time, Lucy felt something heavy lift from her chest — replaced by something lighter, freer.

Hope.