“I’m flattered.” She gestured toward the open gate. “Welcome to my garden.” For the new cutting bed, she’d chosen a cottage-style plan with whimsical, curved plots and freeform clumps of flowers. Seedlings sprouted seemingly overnight, promising an abundance of color and fragrance by late summer. Eager to add Richard’s plants, she poked among the greenery and selected a four-pack of dahlias from amid snapdragons, zinnias, and cosmos.

Following into the loamy soil, he set the tray at his feet. “The woman at the greenhouse said these are all easy to grow.”

She grinned. Richard had yet to discover her pea-green thumb. “I think I can handle them.” The dahlias would make beautiful bedfellows for a cluster of teddy bear sunflowers she already planted. Kneeling, she plotted a curved stone path and maybe even a trellis for support. “Thank you, Richard. I can’t imagine a nicer gift.”

He hovered by the fence, kicking clods from immaculate white sneakers.

“Hand me the trowel, will you?” She pointed to the tool. “That little shovel, for you gardening neophytes.”

He shot her a look. “It may not be a surgical implement, but I’m familiar.” Without moving his feet, he leaned over and tossed it. “Anyway, I thought you deserved a reward for your heroics. How are those nasty stings?”

“Fine, Doctor. Just a tad itchy.”

“They should clear up in a couple days. I’ll keep an eye on them, if you’d like.”

His expression was all innocence, but the subtext was crystal clear. The guy elevated flirty banter to an art form. Happy to play Katharine Hepburn to his Cary Grant, she quirked a brow. “Such personalized care. Do you do this for all your patients?”

He flashed a smile. “Just the redheads.”

“Good policy. Statistically, we’re rare.”

“You certainly are.”

She cleared her throat and eased a dahlia into the soil. “Sam’s still okay?”

“Ninety-nine percent himself, according to Tyler.”

“What a relief.”

He brushed together his hands and examined his palms. “I heard you agreed to co-chair the Midsummer Ball.”

Patting the soil around her newest garden baby, she laughed. “News travels fast.” She sliced into the earth. “Am I completely insane?”

A breeze tousled his hair, and he shrugged. “If you are, I guess we’re both bananas.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m doing it too.”

Dahlia in hand, she paused. Did Richard just say he was co-chairing the ball? She nestled the plant in the ground and glanced up. “So, there are three co-chairs?”

He thrust his hands in his pockets. “Nope. Just you and me, kid.”

“I don’t follow. I thought Claire and I were…” Claire. Of course. Claire orchestrated the whole arrangement. Tessa didn’t know whether to hug her or hate her—the sensation was already familiar.

Sucking his cheeks, he raised his brows. “Is there a problem?”