Jenna Roland leaned against the armrest, her fingers toying with Ethan Roscente's cufflink.

"Did you always eat this much?"

"No." His reply was crisp. Suddenly, he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "But your cooking's too good. What if you turn me into a balloon?"

She burst out laughing, poking his rock-hard abs. "With your metabolism? You could eat a horse and still stay ripped."

Ethan caught her mischievous hand, eyes glinting. "But if I did get fat... would you still want me?"

Jenna arched a brow. Lately, his appetite had skyrocketed, yet his physique remained unfairly perfect. Those eight-pack abs looked chiseled from marble.

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

Her diplomatic smile made Ethan snort. Releasing her, he flicked open his lighter. Smoke curled between them as he squinted. "Company gym. One hour daily. Rain or shine."

"You find time for that?"

"Lunch breaks." He tapped ash into the tray. "Or you'd have a husband shaped like a beach ball."

The jingle of keys interrupted them.

Milo Roland and Ryan Watson trudged in, dumping armfuls of bags by the shoe rack. Jenna hurried over. "Saved you dinner. Want it heated?"

"We grabbed noodles, sis." Milo shrugged off his mud-splattered jacket, calling toward the couch, "Hey, bro."

Ethan grunted without looking up, eyes fixed on the financial news.

"Sold out?" Jenna accepted Milo's phone—a $4,000 transfer notification. When he thrust crumpled bills at her, she peeled off five and tucked them back into his pocket. "For you and Ryan."

Turning to the fidgeting teen, her voice softened. "I'm managing the orchard now. Come help weekends—hourly pay."

Ryan's eyes lit up with a vigorous nod.

As the boys disappeared toward the shower, Jenna sank back onto the sofa. Ethan's arm slid around her shoulders, carrying the faint scent of tobacco.