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I think I can make that work.

The conversation shifts from there, moving surprisingly easily from one day to another as we compare schedules. Tuesday doesn’t work for me. Wednesday doesn’t work for him. Friday is out because I already promised Ivy I’d stop by after work to bring them a meal.

Eventually we land on a day and time.

Thursday. One o’clock. Royal Brew.

Luke

Looking forward to it.

I tap on his text, sending a thumbs up.

I settle against my pillows instead of setting my phone on the nightstand and going to bed. One question turns into another.

Favorite color.

Favorite season.

Whether sunrises are worth waking up for.

Whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

It turns out we agree on almost everything.

At some point I stop noticing the time altogether.

I glance toward the clock on my nightstand.

Ten-forty-five.

My eyes widen.

I’ve been talking to him for an hour and a half.

I say goodnight and set my phone on the charger, staring at the glowing numbers for another second.

My entire schedule is off.

That should stress me out.

It doesn’t.

Chapter 5

Luke

“I still think I should pay you.”

Mrs. Jenkins wipes the back of her gardening glove across her forehead before looking down at the flower bed we’ve spent the better part of the morning rebuilding. Fresh mulch covers the soil, the new border stones sit level, and the hydrangeas she picked out yesterday finally have a permanent home.

“You already did.” I peel off my work gloves and tuck them in my back pocket.

She frowns, planting both hands on her hips. “I most certainly did not.”

I nod toward the plate balanced on the porch railing.

“You made cookies.”