Grayson hadn’t planned on making a grocery run today, but Gigi was relentless. His half-sister had been going on for the last fifteen minutes about these exact rainbow glittery sprinkles and the “perfect limes” she needed for cupcakes she’d apparently been dreaming about for a week. He’d tried to reason with her—truly, he had—but eventually, she wore him down.

Which was why he was now pushing a half-empty cart through the produce section, listening to Gigi explain, in great detail, her special lime-selection method. Something about checking for the right firmness and the faint white tips near the stem—her tiny hands darting between the piles of green as she narrated like she was hosting a cooking show.

He was nodding along, only half-hearing her, when his brain promptly… stopped.

Because across the bin of limes, someone was sorting through them with a quiet focus that made the noise of the grocery store fade into nothing. And maybe it was the way the light caught in her hair, or the easy, unhurried way she moved, but suddenly, Grayson felt that unfamiliar tug in his chest—the kind that made him want to… try again. To want more.

It had been a year since the mess with Eve, and he’d thought he was fine keeping people at arm’s length. But now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fascinating, Gigi. One second,” he murmured, giving her a distracted pat on the head before circling the display.

And then he was there, on the other side of the limes, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look—tall guy in a tailored suit, pretending to care about produce.

“Uh… hey,” he said, a little awkwardly, though the corner of his mouth tugged upward.