Page 76 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

“For understanding my girlfriend’s hobbies.”

“Girlfriend?” Her smile suggests the title suits her perfectly.

“Unless you prefer ‘opposition leader I’m madly in love with.’”

“Girlfriend works.”

“Good. Because I was running out of professional terminology for whatever this is.”

She laughs, pulling me toward the kitchen where the questionable lighting fixture awaits professional attention. Outside, Twin Waves settles into evening routines, but inside Michelle’s apartment, everything has shifted into something new and terrifying and absolutely worth building.

I’m still grumpy. Michelle’s still sunshine. We’re still on opposite sides of a development project that could change everything.

But now we’re on the same side of love.

And for the first time in fifteen years, that doesn’t scare me.

It makes me want to get started.

SEVENTEEN

MICHELLE

The laptop screen blurs as I squint at my third grant application of the evening, Jessica’s kitchen island transformed into my personal command center. Coffee mugs crowd every surface—a caffeinated fortress protecting towers of printouts and sticky notes sorted by color.

“Find anything promising?” Jessica slides another mug across the granite, nearly toppling my precarious paper city. “Or are you building a shrine to celebrate finally admitting you have feelings?”

I look up from my laptop, unable to suppress the smile that’s been threatening to break free all evening. The memory of Grayson’s hands tangling in my hair, the way he’d whispered “girlfriend” while testing how the word tasted, sends heat spiraling through my chest.

“Actually... I have news.”

Jessica’s eyebrows shoot up. “News that involves a certain brooding contractor and your complete inability to stop looking satisfied?”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I can’t dim the smile. “He came to my apartment last night. With daisies.”

“What?”Jessica shrieks, nearly dropping her coffee mug. “Michelle Lawson, you absolute sneak! Daisies? He remembered you like daisies?”

“From a comment I made at a community meeting three years ago.” I touch my lips, remembering the sweet pressure of his mouth against mine, how he’d tasted like possibility and promises. “We talked for hours, Jess. Really talked. About his ex-wife, about David, about everything we’ve been too scared to say.”

“Oh my goodness.” Jessica collapses into the chair across from me, fanning herself dramatically. “The sexual tension between you two has been killing everyone in this town for months.”

“It’s not just sexual tension,” I protest, though my body temperature spikes remembering how Grayson had discovered my needlework hobby and called it devastatingly cute, how his voice had dropped to that gravelly register when he said he was falling in love with me. “We actually really connected.”

“And this connection included what exactly? Because you’re practically vibrating out of your chair.”

She’s not wrong. I can still feel phantom traces of Grayson’s fingers brushing hair away from my face, the way he’d looked at me like I was precious and dangerous. “He asked if I was his girlfriend.”

“Just like that?”

“Yep. Standing in my kitchen, fixing my lighting fixture, and suddenly he’s asking if I’m his girlfriend like we’re in high school.” I laugh, the sound bubbling up with pure joy. “I said yes.”

Jessica stares at me for a long moment, then breaks into the kind of grin that could power the lighthouse. “Michelle Lawson has a boyfriend. An actual, official boyfriend who brings flowers and fixes electrical hazards.”

“I know.” I bury my face in my hands, equal parts thrilled and terrified. “Grayson Reed is my boyfriend. How is that even real?”

“Because you’re both stubborn dreamers who spent years pretending you didn’t want to hold hands during zoning meetings.”

“Jessica!”