She brought out mugs—one no more than two-thirds full. When she set the other in front of him, he lifted it, inhaled the first dose straight into his brain.

“You drink it black. I’m always amazed at people who drink black coffee. I don’t actually like coffee.”

As he watched, she flooded her mug with milk, showered it with one, two, dear God, three spoonfuls of sugar.

“That is no longer coffee.”

“Exactly. But it still has that punch I go for in the morning.”

Shaking his head, Zane dumped cereal in her bowl, then in his own. She doctored hers with milk, rapidly sliced half a banana over it. Held out the rest.

“You want?”

“I guess.”

Before he could take it from her, she sliced banana over his cereal.

“No sugar?” he asked as she spooned up a bite.

“I like Cheerios. And I see you’ve combined the Honey Nut with the Very Berry.”

“Yes, I have.”

“I find that brilliant, and see myself emulating your style in my own home.”

They ate in easy silence until he gestured toward the vase with his spoon. “Aren’t those weeds?”

“Wildflowers,” she corrected. “Native wildflowers. Yours, as your pretty clump of woods is alive with them. Trillium, Johnny-jump-ups, cranesbill. I can see I need to get you a book so you can identify your own treasure trove.”

He drank more coffee. “You look good in the morning. And you smell like the beach.”

“Thanks. That’s sunscreen, and it won’t last. The beachy scent, I mean. I slap it on every few hours, but the beach loses to sweat, dirt, and whatever. Which I need to get started on.”

“The crew’s not here.”

“They will be.” She rose, started stacking dishes.

“I’ll take care of that. You cooked.”

“I did set the table, and what I don’t know about cooking I make up for in presentation. I’ll take these in because I’m going to steal a Coke for later.”

He carried the rest in behind her, got a Coke out of the fridge, handed it to her. “Are we still on for movies and popcorn?”

Her smile hit her eyes first. “Sure. Eight-thirty, right?”

“Eight-thirty.” He cupped her hips, drew her in, drew her up. Kissed her in a way he intended to have linger in her system until he saw her again.

“Well.” Her fingers trailed through his hair. “If I came over at eight, you could give me that full house tour.”

“Come at eight.” And kissed her again.

* * *

As the days rolled on, the wall neared completion. Darby juggled jobs, pleased the work she’d done attracted interest. She spent more nights than she thought either of them intended in Zane’s bed.

She didn’t look toward the future there. For now, the future was her work, her place in Lakeview, the life she built for herself.

Still, the day she looked at the completed terraced wall, the lower level full of good, rich dirt prime for planting, she thought of Zane.

Whatever happened, he’d have this, and he’d remember.

“It’s freaking beautiful.” Gabe stood beside her, beaming in a way she understood. “I’ve never had a part in building anything like this. And it’s freaking beautiful.”

She hiked an elbow on his shoulder. He had a few inches on her five-seven. “It’s going to be even better once we plant it.”

Hallie wrapped an arm around Gabe’s other shoulder, gave him a quick squeeze. “Let’s get it done.”

“Roy, why don’t you go back and work with Ralph on the back wall. I’ll get Hallie and Gabe started.”

He took off his company cap, waved it in front of his face, settled it on his straggly hair again. “Miss Darby, you work me to death.”

“You look lively enough to me. Besides, we need to finish what we can this afternoon. It’s going to rain tomorrow.”

Roy frowned up at the sky, tipped back his cap. “Don’t look like rain’s coming.”

“Trust me. Or the National Weather Service. We’re getting boomers tonight, and a soaker tomorrow. You can sleep late.”

He brightened right up. “Maybe sleep all damn day.”

She helped wheel over the plants, jumped down so Hallie could pass them to her, to Gabe. It took all three of them to muscle down the crepe myrtle she wanted for the far end.

When she’d placed them, she boosted herself back up, studied the effect. “Gabe, switch the mountain laurel, that one, with that azalea. Yeah, yeah, better balance. It’s going to look great. Man your shovels, team. I’m going to check on Roy and Ralph.”

She could see the good, solid bones of the wall as Roy and Ralph worked, communicating with grunts while Roy’s iPod played country rock.

There she’d plant Bloomerang lilacs for the all-season color, the wonderful scent, one on either end as anchors to all the flow of texture and color between.

And when Zane sat out on his pretty patio, with those scents, those colors, with the little kitchen garden she’d already started in pots, he’d remember.

She took a good glug from her water bottle, dived into the work.

When Hallie called out, “You want to take a look, boss, before we start hauling mulch?” Darby stepped back, checked the time.

“Yeah, let me take a look. We can get that done, then you can knock off.” She gave Roy a poke in the ribs. “All of you.”

“I’m ready for that!”

“Zane’ll be home before much longer,” Hallie commented as she started back with Darby.

“Won’t he get an eyeful?”

“Are you going to hang around till he does?”

“Depends.”

Hallie stopped, out of earshot of Gabe in front and the men in the back. “You know, mornings when he wanders up to watch us working before he leaves for town, you can’t help but feel the…” She wiggled her fingers in the air.

“The?” Darby mimicked the gesture.

“I know how to keep quiet, girl, but I’m telling you it’s probably not as big a secret as you think that you and Zane are … spending time.”

Darby honestly hadn’t thought about it one way or the other. “It’s not a secret, it’s just, ah, discretion.”

“That’s a word.” Hallie gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Anyway, he’s what my granny would call a prime catch.”

“I’m not playing catch.”

“Boss, we’re all playing catch. It’s just nature.”

Darby thought about that as she cleaned up, as the crew left. Maybe, just to test things out, she needed to push discretion a bit.

She hopped in her truck, drove home. Pausing on the road below, she looked up. And seeing that long curve of wall, the plants rising, fanning, she sighed.

“That’s good work,” she said aloud. “That’s damn good work.”

She’d barely showered off the day when the text came in from Zane.

Wow. Seriously wow. I owe you a beer, a bottle of wine, half my take-out lasagna. Come back.

Oh, she wanted to, maybe a little too much. But she looked around at so much in her own space she’d neglected.