Page 69 of Fundamentals in Flirting

“I’m saying it because it’s true. I want to kiss you so fucking badly. And I really want to make you scream my name in this treehouse.”

Standing quickly, I backed away from him, desperate to put some distance between us before I ripped off his clothes and jumped on top of him like a rodeo rider. “We both know you don’t mean that.”

“I don’t?” Teddy had stood up as well and was stalking towards me.

“No, you don’t. Stop trying to be the bad boy, Teddy. Just beyou. Just be the person you really are inside.”

“Thisisme.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m here and available. We both know that having sex with me is just you scratching an itch.”

Teddy stopped in his tracks, like I’d just slapped him, his expression unsure, and then a deep sadness darkened his face.

“You’re right. I should take you home.”

The mechanical way he stooped to pick up his jacket and bow tie, the tight slant of his shoulders, and the closed-off expression pierced me straight through the ribcage, spearing my heart with empathy and acknowledgement.

This man was truly broken inside. Why had I not seen it before?

ChapterTwenty-One

My phone was ringing and it was after midnight and I wasn’t on call.

What the hell?

I’d had a busy few days since the garden party and had been really looking forward to an early night and a bit of downtime. Teddy and I had shared a few text messages since the party but hadn’t seen each other, which was probably for the best. I’d had no time to obsess about what had happened and definitely no time to replay the dance, the almost-kiss, or the treehouse conversation. It wasn’t on an incessant loop in my brain. Honestly.

Knocking my phone off the bedside table and onto the floor, I slithered from the bed and retrieved it from the rug, answering groggily.

“Yes?”

“Hannah, come quickly! It’s Deidre. She’s dying.” Teddy sounded panicked.

“What?”

“She’s dying! Hannah, come quickly!”

I took a moment and shook my head, hoping this would clear everything up and confirm that I was just having a dream.

“Hannah, are you there? I’ll come over there and drag your arse out of bed if you don’t come quickly.”

“When you say dying, what is she doing?”

“She’s lying down and groaning, and there’s some panting and puffing.” The sound of Deidre bleating mournfully in the background filtered through.

“Fine. Let me grab some bits and pieces and I’ll be there shortly. Stop panicking – it won’t help her.”

“Is she going to be ok?”

“I’ll do everything I can for her.”

I hung up the phone and pulled on jeans and a jumper over my pyjamas, then nipped to my car to load some essential items into a case before jogging round to Teddy’s.

Opening the door to his shed, I found him crouched over the prostrate goat, who was lying on her side and straining. He held a torch over her and was gently stroking her neck and whispering soothing words. As if he sensed my presence, he looked up and saw me, and the deep creases in his forehead relaxed.

“Thank Christ you’re here. She’s getting worse.”

Hopping over the gate, I assessed the scene – the churned-up straw, the heavy breathing, and the heaving flanks of the goat.

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