Page 21 of Stealing Kisses

Since then, she’d perfected the system to coordinate the farm’s day-to-day operations, to track finances, and to keep up with her numerous side gigs and community obligations, which she loved doing. She’d also learned what itactuallymeant to be pulled in so many directions she’d never, ever catch up.

Baylin had become a top-rate logistics expert, putting out fires wherever they popped up, and she prided herself on extinguishing them at a very high level.

She jotted down a few last-minute ideas for her booth at the Sweetheart Festival. From sunup to sundown, Teddy had refused to give her a moment’s peace. If he remained that determined to shadow her every step, she might as well put him to good use, which meant some of the merchandise she’d takenoff the inventory list could go back on. With his help, she’d be able to tag, price, and package more of the textile products…perhaps even more of the goat milk soaps that had been great sellers the year before.

Deep in thought and crunching the numbers, Baylin jumped out of her chair when the kettle whistled. After fixing her tea, she returned to her spiral notebook, her pages of plans…her happy place. Running the farm challenged her in the best ways, pushing her creativity while tapping into her need to make things neat and tidy.

By the time she’d finished her tea, she’d filled in another sheet of bullet points. The lavender and chamomile brew had done its job, and her eyelids drooped.

As Baylin rinsed her teacup, she might’ve glanced out the window and across the yard toward the barn, out of habit. She wasn’t looking for lights, and shewasn’tlooking for a man.

Even one who meandered back into her thoughts as she climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.

Tuesday morning, Baylin couldn’t remember her dreams, but judging by her pervading sense of peace and restfulness, she suspected they’d been nice.

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, she skipped down the stairs with a pleasant excitement thrumming through her veins. Community events, in particular the Christmas and Valentine’s Day festivals, put a hop in her step.

Creating and decorating her booth, adding to the ambiance and environment of Green Hills coming together, and visiting with friends she didn’t see often enough put her in a wonderful mood.

Finding one Theodore Gwenn cooking at her stove did not.

“Why are you here?” she asked, stopping in her tracks on the bottom step.

“Good morning,” Teddy replied, eyes gleaming and silly smile in place.

“How’d you get in the house?”

“Are you hungry?” he countered.

“What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” he said, his tone indicating she should’ve been able to figure that out for herself. “Do you prefer your eggs scrambled or fried?”

“Neither, I?—”

“Oh, grab those toasties from the oven for me, please,” he interrupted.

Baylin frowned at the back of his head, but she did as he asked…only because burnt toast equaled wasted bread and a stinky kitchen.

Coffee Monday, a full breakfast Tuesday. What in the world would Wednesday bring?

Nothing. Wednesday will bring nothing. It will simply be one day closer to the day he leaves.

Baylin pulled the cookie sheet from the oven, set it on a quilted hot pad on the table, and walked to the pantry for a new jar of blackberry jam. If she had to eat breakfast, she might as well enjoy it.

“Fried it is,” Teddy announced as he cracked an egg in a skillet. “They’re my specialty. Is sunny side up okay?”

“Fine,” Baylin said, giving in. “Why are you cooking breakfast in my kitchen at the crack of dawn?”

“Because you cooked for me.”

He said it so matter of fact, as if that made all the sense in the world.

“I cooked for myself and just happened to have enough for you, too,” Baylin argued. Was she trying to convince herself, perhaps?

“Two nights in a row,” Teddy added, less matter of fact and much moreI see right through you.

“Yes, well…you’d earned a decent dinner for all the work you helped me do leading up to those meals.”

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