Page 57 of Honey Bee Hearts

I turn to look behind me, expecting her to be standing there, but she’s gone. Instead, a man replaces her, his eyes on me. He’s dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hard. There’s a tattoo of a cross under his right eye, and scars along his jawline and chin. He takes a step toward me and his suit coat opens, revealing a gun at his hip.

“Umm. . . can I help you?” I ask, taking a step back in fear. I don’t know this man, but his presence is so menacing, I don’t want to see what happens if I’m not wary.

His eyes narrow and he looks away. I follow his gaze, finding Gunnar suddenly there, but when I look back at the man, he’s gone.

“Where did he go?” I gasp, looking around.

Gunnar’s smile immediately falls. “Where did who go?”

“The man,” I say, peering around a wall. “The creepy guy. Christ. You appeared and he was gone.”

Gunnar freezes and takes my hand before he starts pulling me out of the mirror maze. “No idea, but let’s get out of here, yeah?”

I nod, but I can’t help but look over my shoulder, as if that man will be standing there watching me. He’s not, but Jinx is. She’s reflected in all the mirrors one second and gone the next. I frown, confused, but when Gunnar pulls me over to a food cart, I’m distracted long enough that I’m able to put it out of my mind.

“Whatcha say we go back to the ranch, and I teach you how to lasso a cow?” Gunnar asks. “We can stop and grab a bottle of Jack on the way.”

“Make it a bottle of tequila and I’m in,” I laugh.

So that’s what we do. Gunnar directs me to drive off the road before we get to the big house so that we’re out standing in an empty pasture. We pass the bottle of tequila back and forth, taking small sips of it and laughing when Gunnar howls up at the full moon. The more he drinks, the sillier he gets, until we’re both doubled over with laughter.

“You gotta have the loop to lasso,” he explains as he pulls the length of rope from the back of his truck.

“You pretty good with that rope?” I ask, already buzzing from the tequila.

“The best in the Green River Basin,” he declares proudly. “Even won a trophy for it when I was a kid and everything.”

I watch as he winds it up over his head and throws it, catching the hitch of his truck with ease. He makes it look easy when I know it’s probably anything but.

“That was a good throw,” I nod, taking another sip of tequila.

“I can rope damn near anything,” he laughs.

“Even people?” I ask. I blame the tequila. Otherwise, the thought might have popped into my mind and never made it past my lips.

He turns and grins at me. “You askin’ if I could rope you if you ran?” he teases, fire in his eyes.

“I doubt you could get me,” I say. “I may not be the quickest runner nowadays, but I can bob and weave with the best of them.”

He pulls the rope back and starts to wind it up. “Run then, Florida Girl.” When I laugh, he nods in the direction of the field. “Go on. Get!”

I stand and set the tequila bottle on his tailgate before I take off running, zigzagging so I’m harder to rope. I make it maybe ten steps before that rope comes out of nowhere and circles me. It tightens and I squeal with laughter as I turn.

“You caught me!” I giggle.

He drags me in with the rope, forcing me closer. “I caught you,” he says huskily, before tugging me close enough for a kiss. His lips are like fire against mine, burning everywhere they touch. The chill in the air swirls around me and keeps me from overheating as the rope loosens and I’m able to wrap my arms around his neck. When he dips down to my neck, I gasp, bending my head back to give him better access.

His hands run up my sides, pulling me closer so he can grind against me. “We should go back to your cabin,” he says against my skin.

“Good idea,” I pant, immediately tugging him toward the truck. I leap into the driver’s seat and haul ass back to the house,maybe a little less straight than I’d normally drive. I’m careful not to hit the fence under my buzz at least. But the moment I pull in, my eyes go to the black car sitting in front of the barn. I frown. “What’s with all the late-night meetings?”

Gunnar curses under his breath. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he says, smiling, but the smile is tight. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to cut our night short.”

“Really?” I ask, disappointed. I’d fully intended to sleep with him if he’d come inside. There’s something about Gunnar that’s as smooth as the expensive tequila we’d been sipping. I’ve been looking forward to it all night, and now, we’re interrupted yet again.

He pushes me toward my cabin when I get out. “I’ll see you in the morning, Florida Girl.”

And then he heads toward the car while pulling his phone out of his pocket. The big house door slams open a minute later, and Rhett comes storming out, clearly annoyed. When he sees me, he waves, but his expression doesn’t change.

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