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“Pathetic? Yeah, we know. But I figure it’s worth a shot.”

Before I could respond to this insanity, Tyson appeared around the corner, sawdust in his hair and suspicion on his face.

“Trent. Don’t you have a porch to demolish?”

“Just keeping Sam company.”

“Go demolish things. Now.”

Trent winked at me and sauntered off, whistling. Tyson watched him go with the expression of a man reconsidering his hiring choices.

“Sorry about him. He thinks he’s helpful.”

“He was telling me about Rose’s dating fund.”

Tyson’s face went through several expressions before settling on resigned embarrassment. “Of course he was.”

“A thousand dollars is pretty impressive.”

“It started at ten dollars. She raised it when I hit the three-year mark.” He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “My family has no boundaries.”

“I noticed.” I chuckled.

“I-” He started to say something else, then stopped, studying my face. “You okay? You look tired.”

I’d concealed the dark circles as best I could, but apparently not well enough. Three hours of sleep didn’t exactly leave me fresh-faced.

“Just adjusting to the new place.”

He didn’t look convinced but didn’t push. Another thing I was learning about Tyson: he knew when to let things go. Thank god.

The morning flew by in a chaos of destruction and reconstruction. My porch disappeared piece by piece. Walls opened up to reveal decades of questionable repairs. The electrical panel apparently violated several laws of physics and possibly a few actual laws.

By noon, I’d given up pretending to unpack and just watched. Partly because it was fascinating seeing my disaster transform. Mostly because Tyson in work mode was unfortunately still attractive. The way he problem-solved on the fly. How his hands moved with automatic precision. The patient way he explained things to Rookie.

I was absolutely not noticing the way his jeans fit or how the sun caught the lighter strands in his hair or-

“Lady Sam!”

Noa’s voice saved me from my own thoughts. She came running across the yard, backpack bouncing, followed by a gorgeous woman. Beautiful smile, long dark hair and wearing a sundress that made her look effortlessly put together. Was that…? Could it be his ex? A friend? Who…?

The woman hugged Tyson, and my stomach did this weird dropping thing. Which was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Why should I care if beautiful women hugged him? I had no claim on him. We were neighbors, for fuck’s sake. He was fixing my house. End of story.

“Sam, this is Rose. My sister,” Tyson said, and the relief that flooded through me was embarrassing. I could see the resemblance now. Honestly, I should’ve noticed it sooner. They were basically a carbon copy of each other. What the heck was wrong with me?

“The teacher,” I said, trying to sound normal. “Delia’s mentioned you.”

“All terrible things, I’m sure.” Rose had the same warm smile as her mother. “Noa and my mom have been talking about you nonstop. Apparently you’re going to have pancakes every Saturday forever.”

“Forever’s a long time.”

“Not in Noa time. She also thinks you should marry her dad, but she’s five, so her judgment’s questionable.”

“Rose.” Tyson hissed, his voice held warning.

“What? I’m just reporting facts. Remember last week? ‘Miss Sam is pretty and Dad gets weird around her and they should be friends so we can have pancakes every day. Maybe her pancakes are better than Dad’s.’“

“I don’t get weird,” Tyson protested. His tone told me he’d said this many times.