Page 11 of Firefly Nights

"My mistake." His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Though I've got to say, if anyone could make a library out of a pumpkin, it'd be you."

We walk the rest of the way in a silence that feels full of unfinished sentences. At my gate, I turn to thank him, but the words stick in my throat. He's looking at me the way he looks at building plans. Like he's trying to solve a puzzle, figure out the best way forward.

"Goodnight, Book Whisperer." His hand finds mine, squeezes once, gentle but sure. "Try not to stay up all night worrying about the donation totals."

"I wasn't going to?—"

"Grace." He's definitely laughing at me now, but it's warm, fond. "I can literally see your laptop through your living room window."

"Maybe I just like the ambiance."

"Right. Very atmospheric, those spreadsheets." He backs away, hands in his pockets. "Sweet dreams. Try to keep them at least partially grounded in reality."

I watch him disappear around the corner, my hand still tingling from his touch. Inside, my laptop waits with its neat columns and orderly numbers. But for once, I don't feel the usual rush to document, organize, control.

Instead, I find myself standing in my small garden, looking up at the stars and thinking about the way practical people sometimes surprise you with magic.

Chapter Six

Nathan

"It's a six-month contract minimum." Mike's voice crackles through my phone as I measure window frames in the library's reading room. "Full renovation of a historic theater in Burlington. The kind of project that puts you on the map."

I press my thumb against a crack in the wood grain, testing its depth. "Sounds like a good opportunity."

"Good? It's perfect for you, Cole. And the timing works. You're almost done with that library job, right?"

My eyes drift to where Grace sits at the circulation desk, sunlight catching in her hair as she helps a patron. She looks up, catches me watching, and gives me that small secret smile that's been haunting my dreams lately.

"Almost," I lie, turning away. "Send me the details."

I end the call and lean against the window frame, letting the cool glass steady me. This is exactly what I've been working toward—bigger projects, better contracts, a chance to really prove myself. So why does the thought of leaving Juniper Falls feel like a wrench in my gut?

You know why.

Grace's laugh drifts across the library. The real one, not her polite librarian chuckle. I risk a glance and find her talking with Hazel, gesturing animatedly about something. Probably discussing some novel that changes lives or poetry that saves souls. Her whole face lights up when she talks about books, like she's sharing secrets of the universe.

"Focus, Cole," I mutter, forcing my attention back to the window frame. But the measurements blur together, and all I can think about is how she looked last night under the stars, hair falling loose around her shoulders, eyes bright with something that felt dangerously like possibility.

This is exactly why I need to leave. Grace Lawson deserves someone who understands her world of stories and symbolism. Someone who can quote Shakespeare without googling it first. Someone who stays.

Not a guy who learned to pack up his life in under an hour, who measures worth in square footage and load-bearing walls.

"Earth to Nathan." Grace's voice startles me. She's standing closer than I expected, head tilted in that way that means she's trying to solve a puzzle. "You've been staring at that window frame for ten minutes."

"Just thinking."

"Dangerous pastime."

"Yeah." I straighten, tucking my measuring tape away. "Listen, about the rest of the renovation plans?—"

"Oh! I had some ideas about the children's section. I was thinking, if we extended the reading corner theme..."

She pulls out a notebook covered in neat annotations, and something in my chest twists. I can't do this. Can't keep pretending I might be the kind of person who could give her the ending she deserves.

"Grace." The word comes out rougher than I mean it to.

She looks up, her smile fading at whatever she sees in my face. "What's wrong?"

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