Emma Reyes wasn't expecting anyone to move in next door. The house had been empty for nearly a year, a quiet shield that kept her little world predictable.
So when a moving truck blocked her driveway at seven in the morning on a Saturday, she stepped outside in her slippers, coffee in hand, ready to negotiate.
A man stood by the truck— Tall — broad—shouldered, with dark hair pulled into a small bun and a pair of glasses sliding down his nose as he checked a clipboard. He looked up, startled, when he saw her.
"Oh—sorry," he said quickly. "Is this blocking you? I can have them move it."
Emma stared. "I — uh — no, it's fine. Just unexpected."
He smiled, slow and warm, "I'm Lucas."
"Emma." She tightened her grip on her mug. "Welcome to Willow Grove."
"Thanks." His eyes softened as he glanced at the house. "It's a fresh start."
Something in his tone made her chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.
A fresh start. She knew the feeling.