Page 20 of Stealing Kisses

You can have everything in life you want,

if you will just help other people

get what they want.

Zig Ziglar

Baylin fell into bed at her usual time, exhausted after a long day, but also restless with an energy that bubbled just beneath her skin.

With Teddy’s help, she’d checked a decent number of items off her never-ending list of chores.

With Teddy’s help…

Staring at her ceiling, images of Teddy helping throughout the day invaded her brain.

Teddy in the henhouse. Teddy feeding the goats. Teddy singing while making them sandwiches for lunch and whistling while cleaning up after they ate. Teddy saddling Eros without needing instructions, keeping up while they rode fence lines, checking for breaks, and murmuring to the horses while brushing their coats after their ride.

Teddy, Teddy, Teddy.

Again.Ugh!

Baylin flounced to her side, abusing her pillow with a few punches for good measure.

She hated to admit that having him around was nice.

Having someone to talk to throughout the day, to share the workload with, to laugh at when he was goofy —which was all the time — was also nice.

Maybe more than nice.

Baylin rolled to her stomach, burying her face in the mattress.

She didn’t want to like him. Shereallydidn’t.

Guys like Teddy Gwenn — hunky, handsome, sweet, funny, book-loving,hotguys — didn’t fall from the sky. They didn’t quoteAlice in Wonderland,get lost in Dickens, and whisper sweet nothings to her horses.

And they never stayed.

Not long-term.

No, whatever or whoever supplied Teddy with a rare, collectable, and very expensive car would expect something big from him in return, somethingnotin Green Hills. The job that came with a schedule so flexible he could drop everything to spend a week helping on a farm in Oklahoma, would call him back to duty. He’d go back to his own life, and the sooner, the better.

Baylin had avoided asking him personal questions.

She didn’t want to know his story, wasn’t interested in his history…or what made him so stinkin’ jolly all the blasted time…or why he’d been on Road 214, just beyond her slice of heaven, when his preciousBoxyhad broken down.

Baylin had no desire to meet his family or friends.

She didn’t care what other books and authors he liked to read, didn’t wonder why the sun had bleached light streaks in his thick, dark hair smack-dab in the middle of winter. She hadn’teven noticed how his tall frame should’ve been wiry, but was deceptively strong instead.

Liar.

If she’d been legally blind, she still would have noticed the way his neck muscles corded and his shoulders filled out his flannel shirt while they’d been moving hay bales that afternoon.

Baylin rolled onto her back again, grabbed her pillow, and considered suffocating herself with it.

She gave up on sleep for the time being, slid on a thick robe and slippers, and crept downstairs to retrieve her spiral notebook. In the kitchen, the tea kettle caught her eye, and a cup of calming hot tea promised to soothe her frazzled nerves.

While the water heated, Baylin read through her to-do list, checking off tasks she and Teddy had completed and making notes of what else needed attention. She had developed her method of tracking chores and reminders back in high school, when juggling homework and group projects, volleyball practices and games, and extra-curricular activities like student government and FFA competitions filled her days to the point of overflowing.

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