Page 25 of Honey Bee Hearts

“Party pooper,” he teases, but I can tell he’s just messing with me. Part of me wonders what he’d do if I actually took him up on that offer. Would he pause and do as he promised? Or would he laugh and tell me I’m ridiculous? Only one way to know.

“You have a lot to think about?” he asks.

“What?” I ask, frowning.

“I walk when I have a lot to think about. Figured you might do the same.”

His eyes are the prettiest shade of cerulean, bright and vibrant against his copper hair. Rhett was made for a runway. Instead, he’s out here on Circle Bee Ranch, tending to his bees.

“I can’t walk like this back home, so I was just enjoying the scenery,” I answer. “It’s mostly city or everglades in Florida. I have to worry about gators and snakes, and it’s not nearly as pleasant and safe as this.”

“Out here we have bears,” he says, his expression suddenly serious, and my eyes widen. “And mountain lions. Wolves, too. Make sure you don’t go walking after dark.”

“Bears? Wolves?” I repeat. “Mountain lions?”

“Never dawned on you, huh?” he says, laughing. “Don’t worry. They’re nocturnal so during the day, you shouldn’t come across them as much. Most of them are more scared of you thanyou are of them. Except mountain lions. They’ll fuck you up if you’re not careful, ‘specially if they have a cub. Next time you go walkin’, either bring one of us with you or a gun.”

I hesitate. “I don’t have a gun.”

“I’ll give you one to borrow if you need it,” he nods. “Or, the better option, is you can just bring me with you and fuck me out in the pasture. Win, win.”

I blink and can’t help but smile despite the conversation. “I guess sleeping with the guests isn’t against the rules, is it?”

“I told you the rules. That wasn’t one of them,” he grins. “Can’t blame a man for shootin’ his shot.” He gestures to the passenger seat of the side-by-side. “Come on, Walky Walker. Let’s get you back to the house. That limp won’t get better if you don’t take care of it.”

My throat grows thick as I hop up into the passenger seat. Instead of moving around the driver’s side, he leans over me, putting his face in mine. “What exactly happened? Sprained ankle?”

He leans in far too close, invading my bubble, and I can see the different specks of blue in his eyes that give it more depth. The way he looks at me makes me feel like he’s inviting me to kiss him, but I just twist my fingers together. When his hand comes to rest on my thigh as he tucks me up better in the side-by-side, I nearly choke.

“Old injury,” I finally say, not willing to tell him yet about my leg. Will it change his opinion of me? Will he stop flirting with me? I don’t know if I’m ready for the feeling that’ll come with that if that’s the case.

“Huh,” he says, nodding. “Well, Mel will probably get you some ice if you ask. The old man likes you.” He grins and squeezes my thigh before letting go and running around to the driver’s side. “It’s bumpy out here. Make sure to hold on.”

As he eases back in the direction of the house, he glances over at me. “Are you interested in meeting my bees next time?”

“Absolutely,” I say enthusiastically. I’ve been waiting for him to ask. I want to learn everything I can.

He nods. “Not today, but here in a few days, it’ll be time to harvest some of the honey. I’ll come get you and bring you with me.” His eyes meet mine. “Maybe I’ll let you lick some of it off me.”

When he winks, I can’t stop the laugh that trickles out of. I shake my head and settle in for the slow ride back to the house. It feels like Rhett is driving slower than he normally would for my benefit.

Because he wants to make it easier on me or because he wants to draw out our time together?

I don’t know, but I want to.

Chapter 15

Fable

“We’re going riding today!” Gunnar announces the first thing the next morning when I walk into breakfast. “Horseback riding is a much better option than walking.”

“Rhett told you about that, I assume?” I ask, wincing.

“He did,” Gunnar nods. “Nothing wrong with a walk, but you walked mighty far.”

He leads me out to the stables after we eat a nice helping of breakfast tacos and introduces me to a pretty chestnut colored horse. “This here is our American Azteca, creatively named Aztec,” he laughs. “He’s very calm-natured, so you’ll be riding him today once I get you all familiar with everything you need to know.” He pats the horse on the neck. “He’ll treat you right.”

“Which one will you be riding?” I ask.

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