Chapter 11
11
Well, I think we tried very hard
not to be overconfident,
because when you get overconfident,
that’s when something snaps up and bites you.
Neil Armstrong
H e was only teasing — surely — but Baylin’s cheeks burned red hot, nonetheless.
Teddy must’ve noticed. The gleam in his pale green eyes became even shinier.
“Grab an apron from the back of the pantry door; I’d hate for you to ruin your fifth baseball t-shirt in as many days as you’ve been here.”
“These are the height of fashion, I’ll have you know,” Teddy replied, running his hands over the silly peanut dressed as a vintage umpire emblazoned on his chest, which meant the muscles under said t-shirt became clearly visible through the soft cotton material.
Good heavens.
“Do you ever wear anything besides goofy mascots no one has heard of?”
“Ouch. Shots fired!” Teddy clutched his chest. “I better get that apron so I don’t bleed all over the floor.”
He returned before she’d adequately re-centered her nerves, but she could fake confidence with the best of ’em.
“Ready to flood?” she asked.
“Sure?” he questioned.
Baylin raised an eyebrow at his first ever sign of uncertainty.
“Sure,” he repeated with a definitive dip of his chin.
“It’s very easy,” she told him. “I’ll pipe an outline of frosting along the edge of each cookie. Give it a minute to dry and then use the matching icing to fill in, or flood, the top. They’ll dry overnight, and I’ll add a message to each heart in the morning.”
“Like those little boxes of Valentine’s candy,” Teddy exclaimed.
“Conversation Hearts… It’s the theme of this year’s festival.”
“Which explains why you named your quilt Speaking of Love, ” he filled in.
“Not too original, I guess,” Baylin said with a slight shrug.
“But it is,” he countered. She gestured to brush off his contradiction, but Teddy circled the kitchen island, took the icing bag from her hand, and laid it on their workspace. Taking hold of her shoulders, he turned Baylin to face him.
“You were right about the quality of the quilts in the show,” Teddy told her, looking directly into her eyes. A warm wave of awareness skittered down her spine. “But yours is special…unique, bolder. It grabs your attention and refuses to let go, daring anyone who sees it to walk away. The hearts in their shades of deep reds and hot pinks scream strength while your elaborate stitching design with white thread on white fabric promises soft femininity.” He searched her eyes before lifting a hand from her shoulder to her cheek. “Incomparable,” he whispered, cupping her jaw and caressing her skin with his thumb.
Teddy made it difficult to inhale and exhale like a regular human being.
Because he made her feel like something far beyond normal.
“Thank you.” She met his gaze, determined to match his conviction…fake it ’til you make it and all that rubbish.
Teddy studied her for another long moment. He gave a single nod as his beautiful lips bloomed into that smile that never seemed too far away.
“So, what words of love do you have planned for us?”
“Excuse me?”
“For the cookies,” he said, as though she needed to keep up. “What are we writing on them? How about Hey, hottie! Ooo, or maybe How U Doin? ”
His over-the-top drama proved her undoing; she gave into the urge to laugh, and then she — they — couldn’t stop.
By the time they’d outlined and flooded the two hundred forty cookies she’d set out to decorate, they’d both passed into goofy delirium and found every little thing hilarious.
Lying in bed later than night, Baylin predicted her abs would be sore from laughing so hard through the afternoon and evening. Teddy had teased and joked and entertained, and Baylin had dished out equal banter in return.
They’d had fun.
Teddy is fun.
He delighted in everything he did. He made working side-by-side enjoyable.
And while Teddy never complained about the workload, he finagled Baylin into eating breakfast and sharing cups of coffee each morning and stopping for lunch — seated at the kitchen table instead of her normal sandwich on the go — every afternoon. He forced her to slow down, to pay more attention to the world around her…things like spending extra time grooming the horses and feeding the other animals, chatting all the while because, as Teddy put it, They thrive on conversation, too.
Best of all, in the evenings, he never left her side…begging for basic jobs to help cook dinner, demanding she let him wash and dry and put away the dishes while she sat at the kitchen table, tending to paperwork on her laptop. Then they’d move into the parlor, where Teddy would con Baylin into setting aside her computer or bills or spiral full of chores and tasks and obligations. She’d work on her quilt projects while he read or watched sports on TV.
Those were the only moments Teddy grew quiet, yet their silence never grew awkward or strained. In three short days, they’d settled into a routine together, a peaceful, happy, and all too domestic one.
“ H e might not be all that bad,” Baylin said to the mirror late Thursday afternoon. They’d spent the entire morning writing words and phrases on the decorated cookies and packaging them in treat bags with Valentine tags and satin ribbon bows. Teddy had been a huge help. “But he’s not staying, either.”
She reminded herself of that fact no less than a thousand times each day, and she’d put the mantra on a continuous loop in her mind while she’d showered and dressed for the Valentine’s Dance, a pre-party to the Sweetheart Festival.
“Let’s get this thing over with,” Baylin said, still talking to her reflection. She exhaled a deep breath and applied Strawberry Shock lipstick with a swipe of shiny gloss on top. She fluffed her long, loose waves and finished with a hairspray fly-by. Then Baylin adjusted the belt of her long-sleeved wrap dress, stepped into and zipped up knee-high, nude-colored patent leather boots, and headed downstairs to fetch her favorite winter coat: a fantastic, long, vintage-styled, fit-and-flare sheepskin shearling coat in cognac brown, complete with a luxurious hooded collar that folded down into a dramatic lapel, which kept her very warm in addition to looking fabulous.
Hands down, getting dressed up was the best part of the many community dances, banquets, and fundraisers held in Green Hills throughout the year. She loved socializing with friends at those events, of course, but Baylin hung out with them on a regular basis, and ninety-nine percent of the time they wore jeans, a t-shirt or flannel, and their oldest, most comfortable pair of tennis shoes. No, for Baylin, donning a magnificent dress, killer stilettos, and fur-lined haute couture jacket was for herself…one hundred percent self-indulgent and pure fun.
An appreciative whistle reached Baylin before she’d descended the stairs enough to see the source of the catcalling. When he came into sight, her heart skipped a beat.
Teddy Gwenn cleaned up well…too well.
“You just happened to have a suit in your duffel bag?”
To her pleasant surprise, Baylin’s voice didn’t betray the quiver she felt.
“Not exactly,” he answered with a guilty grin. “I found a men’s shop in town yesterday.”
“Henry’s,” Baylin said. “It’s been a staple in Green Hills since the 1940s.”
“The owner, Elijah Davis— What a nice guy! He and his daughter helped me pick this out.” Teddy crossed one foot over the other and performed a rather debonaire spin to show off his new clothes. “Not bad, huh?”
“It’ll do,” Baylin allowed, sweeping past him to get her coat, determined to not let on just how not bad Teddy looked.
The Davis family — with the exception of Daniel, who graduated from Green Hills High School when Baylin had been in junior high, but whom everyone in their small town knew and loved, abandoned the family trade to become a fireman — carried the reputation of being excellent clothiers, and Elijah was particularly famous for knowing how to make a body look its best. They’d surpassed their own high standard in dressing Teddy.
“I appreciate them working with me on zero notice to pick out something I can use a lot down the road. I mean, this suit is perfect…fits me to a tee.”
That it does .
Elijah and Jessica must’ve squealed with delight when they saw him walk into the store.
Brown herringbone fabric, a classy yet casual hue, almost walnut in color, looked to be high quality, which meant it wasn’t inexpensive, was a perfect choice to complement the traditional, two-button coat style and trendy but polished, slim cut. His tie and pocket square — a playful design of flowers and birds in vibrant shades of reds, bright canary yellow, and soothing browns on a warm, peachy-coral background — mimicked Teddy’s peppy yet stable disposition. The rich whiskey-colored leather, lace-up dress shoes added an elegant, dapper element to the ensemble. Together, the new pieces of his wardrobe teamed up to create something one hundred percent Teddy : unique, effective, and eye-catching. One could toss in heart-stopping for good measure…if one was so inclined.
Hope you’re ready, Cupid. It’s going to be a busy night…
Teddy Gwenn would be quite a hit at the Valentine’s Dance.
“What do you call this?” Teddy asked, pointing a finger at Baylin’s outfit with an admiring eye.
“A dress?”
“That’s not just a dress,” Teddy replied before helping her slip on her coat. “What color would you call that?”
“Red?”
“To say you are beautiful in that red dress is the understatement of the year.”
“The year’s still young,” she argued. Baylin punctuated her clipped rebuttal by pushing Teddy out the door, locking it, and proceeding to her truck.
“I’m searching for better adjectives, ones that more accurately paint the picture you make…an image I won’t soon forget. Can’t you help me just a little?”
Teddy opened the driver’s side door for her and held out a hand to help her up…debonair and a gentleman. Great.
Instead of climbing in, Baylin pressed the keys into his open palm.
“These heels aren’t made for driving,” she explained, walking around the cab to the passenger’s side. Teddy followed.
Of course he did. And extended his hand as he’d done before.
The urge to be persnickety surged in Baylin’s veins. Teddy got his way too often, winning every tug-of-war they fought. Baylin needed to win a few rounds to even the score.
In the end, though, she relented. She grasped his strong, warm hand and stepped on the running board to settle into her seat.
“But they are impressive,” Teddy said, eyeing her boots, one eyebrow waggling while his lips lifted in a suggestive yet playful grin.
She shook her head as he closed her door and hurried around the bed of the truck.
His unflagging and light-hearted demeanor weakened Baylin’s resolve to see their night as a responsibility to the community instead of a potential date with a drop-dead gorgeous guy she had no business fancying.
“Geranium,” she said, riding along the highway leading into Green Hills.
He cast a confused expression her way.
“I’d call this shade of red geranium, not as yellow as orange and not as pink as salmon. It’s a DVF…Diane Von Furstenberg. She’s a fashion genius and a cultural icon. You should read about her sometime; her story’s incredible, impactful, and inspiring. I dreamed of owning one of her dresses for years. Then, I saw this one in an ad last year, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind.”
“I can relate.” Teddy glanced over to flash a look of teasing commiseration.
Baylin displayed an annoyed look at his silliness. In reality, the compliments meant a lot, far more than the flirting. Despite his easy-going disposition, his perpetual loquaciousness, and his permanent smile, Baylin didn’t take Teddy for someone who’d lie…not even about something as silly as saying she looked nice. If he didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t have said it.
“I hate spending money on things that don’t benefit the farm, but this dress— well, I just went for it.”
“I, for one, am glad you did.” His voice dropped deeper and his smile softened as he looked her way. “And you should treat yourself now and then,” he said. “You work way too hard as it is. I’ve only been around a few days, and I can unequivocally attest to that. You deserve to pamper yourself, take a break now and then…you know, stop to smell the roses.”
“I do love flowers,” she conceded, gazing out the window.
“What’s in the boxes?” he asked a few miles down the road.
“Hm?” Her attention had wandered to intentions and plans and hopes and dreams she’d set aside years before, when Papa Joe died and someone had to step up as farm manager. If she hadn’t, her family would have lost their land, their business, and their legacy. In another life, though, perhaps the sweet scent of flowers in bloom would’ve filled her days.
“I notice you loaded a bunch of stuff into the truck after I went to the barn to shower. I would’ve done that for you.” He pinned her with a knowing look.
“I’m sure you would have, but I didn’t need any help. I did it just fine myself.”
“Hmph,” Teddy grunted. Baylin grinned. The inelegance of the noise juxtaposed with the suave figure driving her three-quarter ton farm truck humored Baylin.
His contradictions kept her guessing. Fancy sports car versus faded jeans and five-and-dime t-shirts; high-end cowboy boots that bore the scuffed marks of age and use; the intense determination to work but no apparent job; his talent for active listening while talking... The desire to explore the paradoxical facets of Teddy’s personality tugged at Baylin, growing stronger every hour they spent together.
Keep it casual, she reminded herself. Keep it safe.
“Popcorn,” she said, earning herself another cute puppy dog eyes look of bewilderment. “The boxes don’t weigh a thing because they’re filled with bags of white chocolate popcorn. I made and bagged them right after you left for town yesterday, while the sugar cookie dough chilled in the fridge. They’re my contribution to the refreshment table tonight.”
“Popcorn, huh?” Teddy paused before flashing a warm smile at Baylin, the one that always sent her pulse into overdrive. Afraid her voice might reveal too much, she only nodded in response. “In that case, I guess I’m not offended you didn’t ask for my help. And I know which dessert I’ll choose first. But don’t even think about unloading those boxes when we get there. I’ve got ’em! There’ll be no buts about it.”
“We’ll see.” Baylin lifted one shoulder to feign indifference. Yes, we’ll see.