Chapter 3 3

The faint hum of the ocean carried on the breeze as Grace stood outside her booth, surveying the cleanup efforts from the fundraiser. The string lights swayed gently overhead, their golden glow illuminating the dwindling crowd. Most of the townsfolk had begun packing up their tables and chairs, their voices a blend of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Grace wiped her hands on a towel, pleased with how the night had gone. She had sold nearly every pastry, and the feedback was overwhelmingly positive. For the first time in what felt like ages, she felt like herself again-connected, capable, and valued.

Mia appeared at her side, balancing a half-empty tray of cookies. "You were a hit! Everyone was raving about your scones and muffins. Even Brooke said you stole the show."

Grace shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "It wasn't just me. The whole town made this happen."

"You're too modest," Mia teased, nudging her. "And I saw you talking to Lucas earlier. Looked pretty cozy."

Rolling her eyes, Grace packed up her remaining supplies. "We were just talking. He's not as intimidating as he seems."

Mia smirked. "That's progress. A week ago, you wouldn't even admit he had a nice smile."

Before Grace could respond, Lucas approached, his presence commanding attention even in the relaxed setting. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing toned forearms, and he carried a clipboard in one hand.

"Ladies," he greeted, his tone casual but focused. "I wanted to thank you both for tonight. The turnout was better than we expected, and we hit our fundraising goal."

Mia beamed. "That's amazing! Grace deserves most of the credit, though. Her pastries were the real star."

Lucas turned his gaze to Grace, his expression softening. "She's right. You did great tonight."

Grace felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. "I just baked some pastries. It wasn't a big deal."

"It was more than that," he said, his voice low and earnest. "You brought people together. That's what this project is all about."

Mia's phone buzzed, drawing her attention. "I've got to take this. Don't let him work you too hard, Grace," she said with a wink before walking off.

Left alone with Lucas, Grace busied herself with folding the tablecloth. The weight of his gaze lingered, but it didn't feel uncomfortable-just... perceptive.

"You're not used to compliments, are you?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Grace paused, her hands stilling. "Not really. At least, not lately."

Lucas leaned against the table, his clipboard forgotten. "Why not?"

She hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Things didn't exactly go as planned in the city. My bakery failed, and it felt like I failed with it."

His brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

"I poured everything into that place-time, money, passion. When it closed, it felt like losing a part of myself. Coming back here was supposed to be a fresh start, but... I'm still figuring out what that means."

Lucas nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Failure's a hard pill to swallow. But it's not the end. Sometimes, it's just the beginning of something better."

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, and she found herself asking, "What about you? Why are you here in Willow Haven?"

His jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then, he let out a quiet sigh. "I needed a change. The city wasn't good for me anymore."

"Why not?"

A flicker of pain crossed his face before he masked it. "Let's just say I've got my own failures to deal with."

Grace studied him, sensing there was more to his story than he was letting on. Before she could press further, a commotion near the stage drew their attention.

Brooke was waving them over, her voice rising above the chatter. "Lucas! Grace! We need some extra hands with the equipment."

Lucas straightened, his professional demeanor snapping back into place. "Looks like we're needed."

They spent the next hour helping the volunteers dismantle the stage and load equipment into trucks. Grace found herself working alongside Lucas, their movements synchronized without the need for words. His quiet efficiency was oddly calming, and she appreciated how he made the work feel lighter.

When the last of the equipment was packed, Lucas offered her a ride back to the cottage. She hesitated briefly before accepting, her legs too tired to argue.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. The winding road offered glimpses of moonlit waves crashing against the cliffs, a soothing backdrop to her swirling thoughts.

"Thanks for helping tonight," Lucas said, breaking the silence.

Grace glanced at him, surprised by the warmth in his voice. "It was a team effort."

He shook his head slightly. "You've got a talent for bringing people together. Don't underestimate that."

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "You're pretty good at it yourself."

They pulled up to the cottage, the headlights casting long shadows across the front yard. Grace turned to thank him, but the words caught in her throat when their eyes met. For a brief moment, the weight of their unspoken stories hung between them, tangible and electric.

"Goodnight, Grace," Lucas said finally, his voice soft.

"Goodnight, Lucas."

She stepped out of the truck and watched as he drove away, the taillights disappearing into the night.

The following morning, Grace woke with a newfound sense of purpose. She spent the day cleaning the cottage, organizing her grandmother's recipe collection, and jotting down ideas for her next batch of baked goods.

Mia dropped by in the afternoon, eager to share the latest gossip. "You made quite an impression on Lucas last night," she teased, plopping onto the couch.

Grace rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "We're just working together, Mia. Don't read into it."

"Sure, sure," Mia said, grinning. "But for what it's worth, I think you two would make a great team-professionally and otherwise."

The idea lingered long after Mia left, though Grace tried to push it aside. She wasn't ready for romance, not with her life still in pieces.

Later that evening, she ventured into town for a quiet walk along the beach. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery light reflecting on the water. She kicked off her shoes and let the cool sand soothe her tired feet.

A familiar figure stood near the shoreline, hands in his pockets, staring out at the waves. Lucas turned when he heard her approach, his expression softening.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, stopping a few feet away.

"Something like that," he replied, his gaze returning to the horizon.

They stood in comfortable silence, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Grace hesitated, then spoke. "You were right, you know. About failure not being the end."

Lucas glanced at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"I've been so focused on what I lost that I forgot to look at what's still possible," she admitted. "Last night reminded me of that."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Glad I could help."

Grace turned to face him fully, her confidence bolstered by the quiet intimacy of the moment. "What about you? What's still possible for you?"

Lucas's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "I don't know yet. But I'm starting to believe it's worth finding out."

The honesty in his words resonated deeply, and Grace felt a flicker of connection she hadn't expected. For the first time in years, she wasn't just surviving-she was beginning to hope.