“Hey,” Oliver’s voice called softly, almost hesitant.
Clara looked up to see him leaning against the doorway, holding a small paper bag.“I thought I’d drop by… with something sweet,” he said, smiling.
“What is it?” she asked, curiosity and a flutter in her chest mingling.
“Chocolate croissants,” he said, holding the bag toward her like it was a peace offering.“For the most beautiful florist on Willow Street.”
Clara’s cheeks warmed, and she laughed softly.“You really know how to make a girl feel dramatic.”
“Good,” he said, stepping fully into the shop and closing the door behind him.“Because you deserve to feel dramatic sometimes.”
They sat together on the floor near the flower crates, the scent of blossoms mixing with the warm aroma of the pastries. As they shared croissants and small bites of chocolate, Clara realized how natural it felt to sit close to him, to laugh and talk without pretense.
Oliver nudged her gently with his shoulder.“You know,” he said, voice soft,“I like seeing you like this. Relaxed. Happy. Not caught up in lists and schedules.”
Clara smiled, brushing a stray hair from her face.“I’m trying,” she admitted.“It’s hard sometimes… to slow down and just… be.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said quietly. He reached out, lightly brushing her fingers with his own.“To remind you it’s okay to just… exist. To enjoy moments like this.”
Clara’s heart thumped in her chest. She met his gaze, seeing warmth, affection, and something deeper she hadn’t fully allowed herself to recognize until now.“I… I like this,” she whispered.“Being here. With you.”
Oliver’s grin softened into a tender smile.“Me too,” he said.“More than I can put into words.”
For a long while, they sat in companionable silence, sharing the quiet intimacy of the shop and the unspoken understanding growing between them. No chaos, no crowds, no distractions — just the soft flicker of connection that made everything else fade away.
And for Clara, that moment solidified something she had been slowly realizing all summer: Oliver Hayes wasn’t just a part of her day. He was becoming a part of her heart.
Chapter 15:
Festival Games
The Willow Street summer fair had returned, brighter and livelier than ever. Colorful banners flapped in the warm breeze, the scent of popcorn and candy filling the air, and the cheerful chatter of neighbors created a lively soundtrack.
Clara Bennett arrived with a basket of flowers for her shop’s booth, only to find Oliver already there, grinning and juggling three small water balloons in one hand.
“Clara!” he called, waving.“Perfect timing. I’ve signed us up for the three-legged race!”
Clara blinked.“We’re… doing what?”
“The three-legged race!” he repeated enthusiastically.“It’s tradition. Chaos. Fun. And, more importantly, it’s us versus the street. You in?”
She laughed despite herself.“I suppose I’m in… but you owe me if I fall on my face.”
Oliver winked.“Deal. Now, let’s tie these legs together.”
They crouched side by side, awkwardly wrapping a colorful scarf around their ankles. The ribbon dug into her jeans slightly, but the proximity to him sent her pulse racing.
“Ready?” Oliver asked, bouncing lightly on his toes.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, taking a deep breath.
The whistle blew, and they stumbled forward in a tangle of limbs, laughter spilling from both of them. They wobbled, nearly toppled over, and collided with a pair of children playing nearby, all the while laughing so hard they could barely breathe.
“You’re heavier than you look!” Oliver gasped, steadying her as they recovered from a near fall.
“You’re taller than you look!” Clara shot back, giggling.
By some miracle, they crossed the finish line just behind another pair, collapsing into a heap of laughter on the grass. Their faces were flushed, clothes slightly damp with sweat, and their hands tangled together as they tried to catch their breath.
