7. Teddy #3
"She'd been very specific about the coffee," Teddy countered.
She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chambray shirt to hide the subtle quiver in her hands.
"And she'd been quite clear about her schedule being wide open.
I'm just noting that the local veterinarian is in high demand for more than just livestock certificates and pet check-ups. "
"I'm not interested in coffee at the diner with Cecilia," Kent said, holding her gaze. There was nothing playful in his expression, only an earnestness that made it impossible to mistake his meaning. "And I'm not looking for convenient company."
Teddy’s humor wavered for a fraction of a second before she tightened her grip on her elbows.
"Well, you shouldn't let my presence stop you from accepting social invitations.
You're a single man, and she's a very attractive woman who clearly appreciates your expertise.
I certainly won't stand in the way of your social calendar. "
Kent inhaled a slow, deliberate breath, looking into her eyes.
In spite of her best efforts, she knew he saw the play of emotion across her profile, observing the way her dark eyes flared with a raw vulnerability she'd been desperately trying to mask behind her sharp words.
He understood her pattern: whenever a moment required vulnerability or for her to admit a personal desire, she retreated into deflective teasing.
In that moment, Teddy somehow knew that Kent saw right through her, how he saw the emotional self-sufficiency that was her only protection against being set aside. And she hated feeling so exposed.
"Don’t do that, Teddy," Kent murmured.
Teddy shifted her weight, her posture stiffening under his scrutiny. "Do what?"
"Hide behind a joke because the truth is too uncomfortable," Kent explained, his words gentle but unyielding.
He moved closer, reducing the space that separated them until she could see the golden flecks in his eyes.
"You use your sharp tongue the same way you use your carpenter's tools, as a shield to keep everyone at a safe distance so no one can see when you're hurt. "
The direct assessment brought a sudden, sharp heat to Teddy's cheeks. Her natural instinct was to get defensive. "I'm not hurt," she insisted, her response brief as she struggled to maintain her composure. "I'm simply making an observation about your admirer."
"You're jealous," Kent stated simply. He didn't say it as an accusation or a boast, but as a plain, undeniable fact that settled between them with a physical weight. "Because you know that there’s something growing between us, even if you can’t put a name on it."
Teddy went completely motionless, her breath catching in her throat while the word hung in the air.
She wanted to deny it, to launch into another sharp retort that would restore her comfortable isolation, but the steady integrity in his eyes made the lie impossible to speak.
Instead, she decided to pretend he didn’t say anything at all.
"I've got work to do at the barn," Teddy whispered. "I've got sills to level and timber headers to secure."
"The barn can wait for a moment," Kent insisted, reaching for her hand.
He closed his fingers around hers, his touch steady and reassuring.
"I've watched you pretend that you don't need anyone, that you don't want anyone, because you're terrified that asking for something more will leave you empty-handed. "
Teddy looked up at him, her dark eyes glowing with a raw, unshielded emotion that she couldn’t hide. The room seemed to shrink around them, the soft cadence of the wall clock fading into the background as his presence consumed her focus.
"I know what I want," Kent pledged, his words holding a deep, unwavering devotion that seemed to reach something deep inside Teddy.
"I've known what I wanted since I'd been a lonely boy sitting at a school desk in this valley.
I'm not looking for coffee, and I'm not looking for anyone else.
I want you, Teddy. You're the one who keeps pretending you don't feel that spark too. But I can’t chase somebody who just wants to push me away. "
The declaration struck Teddy's chest with the force of a physical impact.
She had spent years convincing herself that she was better off relying on no one, building one careful defense after another whenever someone came close enough to matter.
But Kent wasn't asking her to become someone different.
He wasn't asking her to trust blindly or surrender the independence she'd fought so hard to keep.
He was simply telling her that she didn't have to face everything alone.
The truth of his words dissolved the decades of isolation she'd erected around her heart, leaving her exposed to the profound, unconditional warmth of his devotion.
Teddy felt something inside her finally loosen.
The instinct to retreat was still there, but for once it wasn't stronger than her desire to stay.
Standing beside him inside the golden afternoon light of the clinic, she realized her armor was completely gone, and for the first moment in her life, she harbored no desire to rebuild it.