He took that as a very good sign. She’d been thinking about him. And not just because his dog vomited on her house and he ended up nearly naked in her truck.

“So you can make the fountain work again.”

“I’m confident we can bring it back to its glory. And while we’re there, we might as well add on to the terrace, do something interesting with the edging, string lights everywhere.”

She closed the drawing and drew long and deep on her beer.

When she studied the house, he knew she was seeing his vision.

“It’s official. You’re a diabolical jerk,” she said finally.

“That I am.”

“You know exactly what I’m looking for with this project, and then you have to go and show me what’s actually possible. I bet your ancestors were door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesmen.”

God, she was cute.

“I look at every project as if it were my place,” he said. “And I ask myself, what would I want?”

“This isn’t my place,” she argued, perusing the sketches again.

“It is right now. And if, for some reason, you don’t fall head over heels in love with me…I mean this house, the grounds will go from a Band-Aid fix to a selling point. I did my research. You haven’t really dug into the landscaping beyond basic curb appeal. Your fans might like to see what’s possible outdoors.”

She picked up her beer. “I need to think about it. I wouldn’t even know how to break it to Dean. He’d curl up into the fetal position on top of a mattress of profit-and-loss statements.”

“When’s the last time you were wrong about a house, Maggie?”

She looked surprised and then stubborn. “Never.”

“When’s the last time Dean questioned the investment?”

Her laugh was quick. “Every single time.”

“Some people have vision, and others can only see what’s right in front of them.”

“Aren’t you the philosophical landscaper?” She turned and studied him for a beat. “You know, for a number that painful, you’d have to make yourself available to the camera constantly. Charm it, flirt with it.”

“I’m very shy,” he fibbed. “But I could probably work up the nerve.”

“Hmm,” she said, hopping down. “Okay. Go away so I can think.”

“I won’t let you down, Mags,” he promised, sliding off the tailgate. “You can put your hopes and dreams in my hands, and I’ll make them come true.”

“Where’s a camera when I need one?” she complained.

“My number’s on the paperwork if you have any questions.” He shut the tailgate and whistled for the dog.

Kevin bounded down the steps, chewy in his mouth like a cigar. He stopped for goodbye pats from Maggie before jumping into the truck.