Chapter 2 2

The comforting aroma of freshly baked scones filled the small kitchen, wafting through the open windows of Rosewood Cottage. Grace wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron and carefully removed a tray from the oven. Her eyes lingered on the golden-brown pastries, their buttery scent bringing a faint smile to her lips. This kitchen had always been her sanctuary, a place where the world's chaos faded into the rhythmic simplicity of measuring, mixing, and baking.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the silence. Grace frowned, expecting a text from Mia, but the name on the screen gave her pause. Her ex, Drew, had been trying to reach her ever since she left the city, his persistent messages swinging between apologies and pleas for closure. Ignoring the call, she silenced the phone and returned her attention to the scones, unwilling to let old wounds intrude on her fragile sense of peace.

By mid-morning, she was walking toward the town square with a basket of her freshly baked goods. Mia had convinced her to "just drop by" the fundraiser planning meeting, a suggestion that quickly escalated into Grace volunteering to provide a preview of her work. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but the thought of reconnecting with her community felt like a step in the right direction.

The town hall bustled with activity when she arrived. Long tables were lined with blueprints, sign-up sheets, and donation jars, while clusters of volunteers worked on logistics. Grace hesitated at the entrance, the familiar mix of nervousness and self-doubt creeping in.

"Grace! Over here!" Mia's cheerful voice cut through the noise, and Grace spotted her waving from the far side of the room.

She made her way through the crowd, clutching the basket tightly. Before she reached Mia, Lucas stepped into her path, his sharp gaze scanning her as though assessing a new blueprint.

"You made it," he said, his tone more statement than question.

Grace tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a touch of defiance. "I said I'd think about it. This isn't a commitment."

Lucas's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Fair enough. What's in the basket?"

"Scones. Figured I'd contribute something small."

He glanced at the basket, then at her, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Let's find a spot for you. Follow me."

The room grew quieter as Lucas led her to a table near the front. He moved with an air of quiet authority, his calm demeanor commanding respect without demanding it. Once they reached the table, he cleared a small space among the cluttered papers and gestured for her to set the basket down.

Grace arranged the scones neatly, aware of the curious glances from nearby volunteers. Her hands lingered on the edge of the basket, a silent shield against the growing tension in her chest.

"Grace Delaney, right?" A woman with sleek dark hair approached, her clipboard held with the precision of someone used to getting things done. "I'm Brooke, the event coordinator. Mia's been singing your praises all week."

Grace smiled politely. "Nice to meet you, Brooke. I'm just here to help out where I can."

Brooke's sharp eyes softened slightly. "Well, your timing couldn't be better. We've been struggling to finalize the menu for the fundraiser, and having a local baker on board would be a huge help."

Grace opened her mouth to respond, but Mia appeared beside her, practically bouncing with excitement. "I told you Grace is perfect for this! She's a natural."

Before Grace could protest, Brooke nodded. "Great. Let's discuss ideas after the meeting. For now, feel free to mingle."

Mia looped her arm through Grace's and steered her toward the refreshment table. "See? That wasn't so bad."

Grace shot her a look. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Mia grinned unapologetically. "You'll thank me later."

The meeting began with a brief overview of the project, Lucas stepping into the spotlight with effortless confidence. His voice carried through the room, steady and measured, as he outlined the plans for the community center. Grace found herself watching him more closely than she intended, drawn to the way he spoke with quiet passion about revitalizing the old lighthouse property.

The fundraiser discussion followed, with volunteers offering suggestions ranging from silent auctions to live music performances. Grace kept a low profile, content to listen and take in the energy of the room.

When the meeting adjourned, she slipped out to the courtyard for some air. The cool breeze carried the scent of saltwater, mingling with the faint fragrance of her lavender lotion. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peacefulness wash over her.

"You survived."

Lucas's voice startled her, and she turned to find him leaning against the stone railing, his arms crossed casually over his chest.

"Barely," she replied, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

He gestured toward the basket she still held. "Those scones caused a bit of a stir. You've got people asking for your recipe already."

Grace's cheeks warmed. "They're just scones."

"Maybe to you," Lucas said, his tone thoughtful. "But to them, it's a glimpse of what you bring to the table. Don't underestimate that."

The sincerity in his words caught her off guard, leaving her unsure how to respond. Lucas studied her for a moment longer before straightening.

"You've got talent, Grace. Don't let it go to waste."

With that, he walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. Grace found herself drawn deeper into the fundraiser preparations, her initial reluctance giving way to a quiet sense of purpose. She spent hours in her grandmother's kitchen, experimenting with recipes and rediscovering the joy of baking.

Mia stopped by frequently, offering encouragement and occasionally sneaking a taste of whatever Grace was working on. Their conversations often veered toward Lucas, with Mia dropping subtle hints about his single status and his mysterious past.

"Don't you think he's handsome?" Mia asked one evening, lounging on the couch with a plate of cookies.

Grace rolled her eyes, setting down a tray of muffins to cool. "I'm not looking for romance, Mia."

"Who said anything about romance? I'm just saying he's easy on the eyes."

Shaking her head, Grace returned to her baking, unwilling to let the conversation go any further.

By the time the fundraiser arrived, she was both nervous and excited. The town square had been transformed into a lively event space, with string lights casting a warm glow over the booths and tables. Her own booth, decorated with Mia's help, featured an array of baked goods that drew an impressive crowd.

As the evening wore on, Grace found herself relaxing, enjoying the interactions with neighbors and visitors alike. The compliments on her baking filled her with a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt in years.

Lucas stopped by her booth toward the end of the night, his expression softer than usual. "You've been busy."

She gestured to the nearly empty trays. "It's been a good turnout."

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. "You've done well, Grace. I think your grandmother would be proud."

The mention of her grandmother brought a lump to her throat, but she managed a small smile. "Thank you, Lucas."

The sound of applause interrupted their conversation, signaling the start of the evening's final performance. Lucas inclined his head toward the stage. "Care to join me?"

Grace hesitated, then nodded, following him toward the crowd. The music began, a soft melody that carried through the night, and for the first time in a long while, Grace felt a spark of hope for what lay ahead.