Page 4 of Stealing Kisses

“Huh,” he huffed, but followed his ignoble grunt with what he’d been told was his most charming grin.

“Fine,” she acquiesced. “Grab one and follow me. They go in the shed.”

Teddy wanted to argue that he’d grab them all, but something said he’d be wasting his breath. Instead, he carried the fullest, heaviest-looking crate into the small building.

There Teddy discovered shelf after shelf full of the wooden crates. Almost every one of them overflowed with winter’s harvest.

“Wow!” Teddy whistled to convey his approval. “This is quite a bounty. I had no idea so many vegetables grew in the cold.”

And there it was again: her pursed-lip, head-shaking glance of derision, establishing his ignorance and stupidity without an ounce of filter. Gorgeous!

The fact that she didn’t soften the blow to his ego warmed his heart like no team groupie — with their revealing outfits, over-painted faces, and simpering smiles — could.

Teddy made two more trips to carry in the rest of the potatoes. Then he snooped around the garden shed, nosying intobuckets and bins, while his hostess organized shelves and jotted notes on a legal pad of yellow paper.

“I can’t remember the last time I bought fresh produce at the store,” Teddy admitted, picking up a cluster of green onions and inhaling their sharp, earthy scent.

“Probably wasn’t all that fresh if it came from the store.” Then she walked to the door, pausing at the threshold to glance at him over her shoulder. “Come on; I suppose you’ve earned dinner.” She returned to the wall of crops she’d produced, picked up one of this and two of that. “You can see what fresh vegetablesactuallytaste like,” she added as she passed Teddy, flipped off the light, and left him standing in the dark.

3

Twenty Questions

Noun, plural but singular in construction ~

A game in which one player or team

tries to determine

from yes and no answers to

not more than 20 questions

what word or object the others

have chosen to be guessed

Baylin placed a variety of squash, onions, and potatoes on the countertop beside the single basin ceramic sink. She turned the faucet to warm and began washing her hands, using a small bristle brush around and under her nails.

Her unwanted guest sidled up beside her and did the same.

She cast a withering glance his way. Once again, he seemed immune to her normally proficient stink-eye.

Instead of drying her hands, she began washing the vegetables she’d brought in for dinner. Again, and without asking permission, he copied her actions move for move.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, his tall, hulking body radiated more heat than the small kitchen could handle. Well, at least more heat than Baylin could handle.

To be fair, he wasn’thulkish,but he appeared too strong and too stout for comfort.

And too pretty.

Those eyes…the color of soft leafy greens, lighter than romaine but darker than cabbage. Baylin struggled not to stare in an effort to define their exact shade.

And the hair! What person not styled by a professional on a Hollywood set had that perfect swoopy thing going? He’d been driving a convertible! No one’s hair looked good — and nevergreat— after the wind blew through it for hours on end.

Baylin refused to acknowledge his stubbled beard, thick eyebrows, and light plum lips. They weren’t worth considering…because no man should be so attractive.

Baylin left Mr. Perfect Body at the sink, assuming him capable of scrubbing vegetables without her assistance. She gathered the cast-iron skillet from the range, a cutting board from a bottom cabinet, and slid her chef’s knife from its storage block. Setting up her station a healthy distance from the stranger in her kitchen, Baylin began slicing the squash he’d finished rinsing.

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