Maggie, with part of her hair pulled up in a tiny, messy knot and wearing the white Bitterroot Landscapes T-shirt he’d given her, leaned over the table, coffee mug in hand, while Cody frowned over an iPad. Two plates with the remains of hardboiled eggs and microwaved bacon sat between them.

“It’s perfect already, Cody. You can’t shine it up any more,” she told the boy.

“I’ve got ten minutes before deadline,” Cody insisted. “I’m just giving it one last look.”

“Mornin’,” Silas said, stepping into the room and heading for the coffeemaker. Maggie might have been trying to get some distance from him, but she’d also bought him a travel mug that said I LIKE TO GET DIRTY and washed it for him every night.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the world-famous Hot Landscaper Guy,” she teased.

Those brown eyes went soft and warm every damn time he surprised her with a gift or a snack or a kiss. And like clockwork, he could see her pull herself back. He knew how to read signs. He also knew how to detour around them.

“Hey, Sy,” Cody said without looking up from the tablet.

“English essay?” Silas asked.

“His essay on Campbell’s Canyon Secrets that’s due to be uploaded in mere minutes,” Maggie told him with a wink. “Cody’s playing perfectionist.”

“Said the woman with a six-foot whiteboard that details every step it takes to get a project to perfection,” Silas teased.

“Ha. Burn.” Cody snorted.

“You leave my whiteboard alone,” she said, pointing a finger at Silas. “And you have one minute to upload that paper,” she said, moving that same finger into Cody’s line of sight.

“Speaking of the whiteboard, Mags,” Silas began. “Looks like you’re almost two full days ahead of schedule.”

“It’s all about the momentum,” she said, keeping an eye on her watch. “If this keeps up, we might even finish early.”

Which would put the house on the market early. Which would put her in her pickup and on the road to her next house early.

Short of sabotage, Silas wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Morning, folks,” Jim said, sauntering into the kitchen.

“Morning,” they chorused.

“You tell her yet?” Jim asked Silas.

“Tell me what? Cody, hit upload, or I’ll do it for you,” Maggie said.

With a nervous breath, Cody stabbed at the screen and then dropped the tablet on the counter. “It’s done. I think I’m going to barf.”

“You wrote a great essay. You did the work. Now it’s out of your hands, and you’ve got to let it go. Trust the work to get you the result,” she told him.

“If I don’t get at least a C, I’m screwed. No graduation. Summer school.”