Page 15 of Summer with the Single Dad

She tapped her card to pay. “I am, yes.”

Wallace handed her the receipt and a sick feeling filled Bennett’s belly. He didn’t want her to go. As mundane as this conversation was, he wanted it to continue. He just enjoyed being around this woman. She intrigued him to no end, and he wanted to keep talking to her. She wasn’t brushing him off. He knew that. He could sense her returned interest. But something about her demeanor, and the way she dropped any wayward smile as if it were a violation of some terms and conditions, beguiled him. Why was she so determined not to find any kind of joy? To allow herself to find joy?

“Well, maybe I’ll see you at the honey farm then,” she said, batting long, thick lashes at him.

He loaded his items onto the conveyor belt. “Maybe you will.”

She waved ‘goodbye’ to him, and he had to bunch his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching for her.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“She’s pretty,” Wallace said, as he finished ringing up Bennett. “Sad eyes though. Any idea why?”

Bennett grunted. If he agreed with Wallace, the gossip train on the island would have Bennett and Justine engaged by lunchtime tomorrow. That was one of the few downsides to living in such a small town on a close-knit island.

He paid Wallace and grabbed his bags. “Thanks, Wallace. Catch ya later.” Then he hightailed it out of there like he was being chased, because like a teenage boy with a new crush, he wanted to catch up to Justine.

A stupid kind of giddiness came over him as he parked his truck next to Justine’s SUV in the gravel parking lot of Barrington’s. Typical for a sunny Sunday in June, the place was busy. Every touristy place on the island was harried this time of year.

He stifled his annoyance at the non-locals flooding the island for an amuse-bouche of a more relaxed way of living. It was these people that kept his lights on and his kids fed. It was these people that kept his brothers and his businesses successful.

They were still irritating though.

Sometimes, he just wanted to buy his local artisan honey and not wait in line for twenty minutes behind posh citiots driving Teslas.

As he stalked across the parking lot, he snorted at that last thought.

Local artisan honey.

Now who was the poshy douche?

All he needed was a Tesla and a popped collar, and he’d fit right in.

Her understated ponytail, dark skinny jeans, and gray tank top should have caused her to blend right in with the crowd, but he noticed her immediately. As if she wore a high vis vest and had a neon sign above her head.

His pace quickened when a space next to her at the sample bar opened up, but then he slowed his roll. Maybe she wanted to be alone? Would she think he was stalking her?

No. He told her he was coming here. He planned to come to Barrington’s first.

Clearing his throat, he sidled up beside her. “Aya and Emme like the lavender honey the best.”

She pulled the small, flat, wooden sample stick out of her mouth and glanced up at him, her brown eyes wide, but not in surprise.

One of the bee farm employees stood behind a counter with a bunch of squeeze bottles. There were flat spoon-like sticks for sampling. He would squeeze a dollop of the honeys onto the stick for people to try. It was a very popular activity for tourists. Sometimes, even the locals brought their kids to the farm for a tour of the honey harvesting process and samples.

“I’ll try the lavender one, please,” Justine said, nodding at Elwyn behind the counter.

Elwyn smiled and squeezed a dollop onto her stick.

It should not have turned Bennett on the way it did, watching her put the stick in her mouth and suck off the sweet, golden liquid.

He also just as easily could have bought honey from the honor system farm stand the Barrington’s had at the front of their long driveway, for those who didn’t want to bother with the main store and throngs of visitors.

But he didn’t. Because he wanted to see her. Because he wanted to spend more time with her.

Fuck, he was getting in deep and all signs pointed to a disaster. But a big, stupid part of him didn’t care.

“That was delicious,” she said softly.

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