Page 46 of Stealing Kisses

“Yes, some friends from high school went to Tarleton State University in Texas, on rodeo scholarships. They told me all about the school before we graduated, so I knew it was an exceptional school for agriculture. I’d planned on Southern Methodist University in Dallas, where my mom and dad met, but I needed to switch degrees to Ag Business rather than Entrepreneurship. Tarleton offered the program I needed in a remote learning format and a late admissions process, so I wouldn’t have to sit out a year. I started on time that fall and graduated with my Bachelor of Science in Agribusiness four years later.”

“That’s an incredible journey,” Teddy said, even more impressed.

“Yeah, not the journey I envisioned in the beginning, but one I’ve loved.”

“Where were you planning to travel? To see the flowers?”

“Oh, wow! Let’s see…” A dreamy look drifted across Baylin’s face. “The Chelsea Flower Show, for sure. The lavender fields in Provence, France. I’d have toured galleries to see Monet’sWater Lilies,van Gogh’s sunflowers, and Georgia O’Keefe’s signature flowers. And those would’ve been a drop in the bucket of what was on my list.”

“You and those lists,” he teased. “Will you still go?”

“Maybe,” she answered, her expression one of mixed emotions. “I’d still like to have that flower shop in town someday; between weddings, funerals, holidays, and special events, Green Hills needs another one to keep up with demand. But the farm comes first, and I’m happy keeping my focus on it.”

She set her empty dessert plate on the table, swallowed the last sip of her wine, and pulled a quilt from a stack folded under the coffee table. Teddy carried the pie, their dishes, and the wine glasses to the kitchen. He stopped by the restroom, added one more log to the fire, and rejoined Baylin on the couch.

Instead of leaning against the arm, she curled up in the center.

“You can take off your shoes, ya know?”

The small nicety felt like a big invitation.

And when he got situated next to her, she fluffed the quilt to cover them both.

“Hang on,” Teddy said, leaning forward to take off the heavy sweater he’d worn all day.

“Another baseball shirt?” she teased when she saw the tee he wore under the sweater.

“When I got to college, the school gave us clothes. Lots of clothes! And not just baseball clothes, but extra shoes, joggers, shorts, t-shirts, sweatshirts, socks…even underwear. It was amazing. It’s all I wore. I mean, why spend money if I didn’t have to, right?”

“Where’d you go to school?”

“Louisiana State.”

“LSU Tigers,” she said. “Didn’t you tire of wearing purple and gold every moment of every day?”

“Nope. Best of all, when I got to the minors, I got a whole new wardrobe.”

Teddy told Baylin about being drafted by the Braves in the 2017 Major League Baseball Draft, pick number 457. He walked her through his minor league career, describing each mascot so she’d know which t-shirt went with which team. He shared his elation at being called up to the big league in 2019, and he even mentioned the record he set for most stolen bases by a rookie.

They talked for hours. She never mentioned him going to the barn. Teddy never asked.

He noticed well past midnight that Baylin had drifted off to sleep leaning against him.

Teddy shifted her in his arms, imprinting the feeling of her snuggled in his embrace on his memory so he would remember it forever. His breathing fell into sync with hers, and eventually, he joined her in sleep.

The sun, bright through the large parlor windows, woke Teddy first.

Their fire died during the night, but wrapped in one another’s arms under the blanket, they stayed cozy and warm. He had, however, lost feeling in one arm.

He adjusted her weight to be more fully on his chest so the blood would return to his fingers and hand. The jostling woke her…the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to do.

“Good morning,” she whispered, rubbing her face against his chest like a kitten burrowing for comfort.

“Good morning,” he said through a smile he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you?—”

“I’m not,” he interjected.

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