Her days were beyond hectic. It had been weeks since she got any decent amount of writing accomplished. Her new self-help book on setting priorities, Snarled Traffic in the Information Age, was due to her publisher in three months. And she had eight more chapters to go.

Her feet pounded on the bark mulch.

A hundred yards to go.

Fifty.

Twenty-five.

Thank goodness.

She slowed to a walk, gulping air, keeping well away from Lucas in the hope that he wouldn’t see how winded she’d become.

He’d slowed his run, taken it down to a jog, coming to a walk when his feet hit the concrete deck.

Devin took her time joining him, feeling a rush of relief when her lungs slowed back to normal. Her legs were still rubbery, but it was much easier to hide that weakness.

As she approached Lucas, he tossed her a chilled water bottle. She caught it in midair. Obviously someone had set them out while they were away running. What a life the man led.

Devin cracked the seal and took a long, satisfying drink. Her heart rate was getting back to normal, but she knew she’d have some very sore muscles in the morning. She’d give her eyeteeth for a miracle where Amelia slept until seven.

Lucas flopped down on a lounger, gesturing to a low table between it and another identical chair. “Care for some fruit?”

Devin realized she was famished, and the fruit platter looked delicious. The temptation to rest her weary legs was too much to resist. She took the other lounger and stretched out.

Lucas popped a grape into his mouth and munched. “You have everything you need in the nursery?”

Devin selected a slice of pineapple. “It’s a dream nursery.”