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"Move the squash."

Hart smiles.

"Thank you."

Cole stares at me.

"Seriously?"

"She's right."

Her eyebrows go up.

"I'm sorry. Could you say that again?"

I look at her.

"You were right."

Her smile grows. I lean slightly closer.

"Don't push your luck."

Her eyes flick to my mouth. Only for a second. But I see it.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She's lying. For some reason, I don't mind.

Cole shakes his head.

"I'm leaving you two to it."

"Coward," Hart calls after him.

He lifts one hand and keeps walking. She turns back to me.

"Well?"

"Apparently we've been abandoned."

"Could be worse."

Our eyes meet.

"Could be."

This time, neither of us pretends we're talking about the tomatoes.

We work side by side. It shouldn't feel different. I've packed thousands of boxes on this farm with dozens of people. This is work. Tomatoes. Peppers. Squash. Greens. Nothing complicated.

Except working beside Hart has become strangely easy. She tells me Betty is still trying to convince Noah that blueberry muffins qualify as breakfast because they contain fruit.

"Betty's been using that argument for years."

"My mother agrees with her."

"Noah doesn't stand a chance."