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"Very noble of you."

"Someone has to do it."

"Dinner, then? I'll take you."

The humor in her expression softens. "I'd like that."

And there it is. A date. Neither of us calls it that. We don't need to.

We finish our coffee talking about everything except us, and it's easy. By the time Betty starts loading the crew's coffee into carriers, I've learned that Noah thinks eight-thirty is an unreasonable bedtime, Maddy hates raisins in anything that should contain chocolate, and she once fired a produce supplier for trying to pass off underripe peaches as premium fruit.

I tell her the last one seems extreme. She tells me I wasn't there. I believe her.

Eventually I glance toward the counter. "I should get those back before the crew comes looking for me."

Maddy checks the time. "And I promised Mom I'd help her this morning."

We stand. "Thanks for coffee."

"Thanks for coming."

Her smile stays with me long after she walks out the door.

By Thursday, the strange thing isn't that Maddy and I kissed. It's how quickly being around her afterward stops feeling strange.

She gets to the farm a little after nine. By ten, she's helped Emma with the dogs, checked in with Cole, and somehow convinced one of the newer veterans that organizing produce by color is not an inventory system.

I'm carrying a crate toward the packing barn when I hear her laugh. She's standing with Emma near the training area. Maddy catches me looking and smiles. I smile back. Emma's gaze moves from her to me, just once, but I catch it. So does Maddy. Neither of us says anything. I continue toward the barn.

Jack steps outside as I reach it and takes the crate from me. His gaze travels briefly toward Maddy, then returns to me. There's a question there. I give him an answer with mine. Not yet. Jack nods once and carries the crate inside. That's why we've been friends this long.

An hour later, Maddy finds me near the growing fields. "Where are you headed?"

"Berry section."

She turns immediately. "You have a berry section?"

"You've been here for weeks."

"You hid an entire house from me. Your credibility is questionable."

"That's fair. This way."

The berry rows sit beyond the main growing area, where the slope catches the morning sun. Maddy slows when she sees them. Strawberries grow low along the first rows. Blueberry bushes run beyond them. Raspberries and blackberries climb trellises, with red and black currants farther down.

"Martinez, this is incredible. I can't believe you've been keeping this from me."

"I thought you were the vegetable police, not the fruit police."

"You invited a chef onto your farm. This is relevant information."

I gesture toward the rows. "Have at it."

She does. By the time we reach the blueberries, she's already talking about what she'd do with the strawberries. Roasted with balsamic. Maybe honey. Something creamy underneath.

She tastes one blueberry, then another farther down. "Different varieties?"

"Yeah."