Page 77 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

“I’m just saying, the way you’re glowing suggests the man knows exactly how to make your heart race with those gentle contractor hands of his.”

The memory of those hands—careful and reverent as they’d explored my cheek, my shoulders, the way they’d trembled slightly against my waist—makes my breath catch. “Anyway,” I say, trying to redirect before I melt from memory alone, “that’s why I’m here drowning in grant applications instead of at home. Being around him makes my brain turn to mush.”

“So you’re dating Twin Waves’ most eligible bachelor and researching ways to work together professionally? That’s either brilliant or completely insane.”

“Both, probably.” I gesture at my research mountain, trying to focus on preserving historic buildings instead of the way Grayson had looked at my embroidered dogs like they were masterpieces. “But look at this—apparently everyone’s throwing money at historic preservation these days.”

“And they’d actually fund your coffee shop partnership with your new boyfriend?”

The word “boyfriend” sends a thrill through me that I’m still not used to. “It’s not just about the coffee shop. This could transform how we approach development in Twin Waves. Historic preservation mixed with sustainable growth, community spaces that serve everyone...” I flip through applications with growing excitement. “There’s funding for exactly this kind of collaborative project.”

“You’re getting that gleam in your eyes.”

“I might have found our solution to the whole development versus preservation battle.” I lean forward, unable to contain my enthusiasm. “What if instead of fighting against each other, we work together? Grayson’s architectural expertise, my community organizing, shared grant applications...”

“Your boyfriend’s architectural expertise,” Jessica corrects with a knowing grin.

“My boyfriend’s architectural expertise,” I repeat, testing how the words taste. Still thrilling. Still terrifying. “I can’t believe I’m dating Grayson Reed.”

Jessica starts clearing mugs, but her movements are too careful—like she’s concentrating on not breaking something. “That’s wonderful, Michelle. Really wonderful.”

The brightness in her voice rings false. I set my laptop aside. “Jess. What’s wrong?”

She keeps rinsing the same mug. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m happy for you.”

“You only use that tone when you’re trying not to upset me.”

Jessica finally sets down the mug and meets my eyes. “Both things can be true. Iamhappy for you. And I’m… not okay.” She swallows. “Grayson isn’t just your boyfriend. He’s my landlord.”

“Yes, we’ve established this.”

“And after the flood damage, he wants to discuss my lease.”

“Discuss how?”

“The kind of discussion that starts with ‘structural concerns’ and ends with ‘might be more cost-effective to rebuild.’”

Cold slides down my spine. “Jess, he wouldn’t?—”

“Make a business decision?” Her shoulders lift. “He’s a developer. It’s literally what he does.” The false cheer cracks. “I can’t clap for your romance if it means I lose my stability.”

The truth hurts because it’s fair. “There has to be more to it.”

“Is there?” Her look is gentle, not cruel. “Or are you already making excuses because you want this to be different?”

I breathe through the sting. “I need to talk to him.”

“Michelle—”

“No, I need to hear his side before I jump to conclusions.” I start packing my research with shaking hands. “After David, after everything, I promised myself I wouldn’t assume the worst about people I care about.”

“And what if his side confirms the worst?”

The possibility makes my chest tight with panic. “Then I’ll deal with it. But Jess, this man spent last night telling me about his ex-wife, about how he wants to build something lasting in Twin Waves. That doesn’t sound like a guy planning to demolish buildings for profit.”

Jessica studies my face with the expression she usually reserves for authenticating rare books.

“I have to believe it. Because the alternative means I’ve made the same mistake twice, and I can’t...” I stop, swallowing hard. “I can’t survive being wrong about love again.”