Page 85 of Keep Me

“What’s her name?” Sylvie asks.

“Moire,” I reply, which makes Sylvie giggle.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

She shrugs, wiping her slobber-covered hand on my jacket. “Just like hearing you say that.”

“Moire,” I reply, drawing it out for her and giving theRa bit more of a roll. Then, I tug Sylvie closer and lean in to press my lips to her ear. She giggles from the tickle of my beard.

But when I try to move my mouth to hers, she shoves me away. “Don’t kiss me! I’m sick.”

“I don’t care,” I reply as I pull her back toward me. I just want her body in my hands at all times. I crave her against my body and my lips on her every second of my day.

“You’re disgusting,” she squeals as I hold her face and kiss her hard right on the mouth. I don’t care that she’s sick or that I’ve seen her go through an entire box of tissues in a day. If that’s disgusting, so be it. She’s my woman, and I’ll take the bad with the good.

“In sickness and in health, remember?” I say with my lips just inches from hers.

Our eyes meet, and I see the slight panic in her gaze. She gets that way anytime I bring up our marriage, as if she’s afraid of itnow. We’ve been married for six months. And we have six months to go. I’ve not made any indication that I expect her to stay after the year, at least notyet.

I desperately hope she does.

Sensing her discomfort from that phrase, I quickly let her go. She averts her eyes, and I busy myself with giving Moire another snack.

As I’m petting the horse’s mane, Sylvie points toward the barn. “What are those?”

Looking up, I see the boxy white structures on the other side, and my mouth twitches with a smile. “Let me show you,” I say as I take her hand and lead her toward the hives. Stopping near thebarn, I quickly roll up my sleeves and rinse my hands clean with the spout.

Then, I watch her expression as I pull open the box from the top and lift the frame from out of the shelter. The sound of the swarm is immediate, and Sylvie lets out a squeal as she starts to run from my side. Snatching her by the arm, I give her a stern look.

“Calm down, darling. They won’t hurt you.”

At that moment, a few dozen bees leave the frame and start to buzz around us both, so I quickly grasp my wife to my side, whispering into her hair. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

She lets out a muffled sound, and I look down to see she’s buried her face in my shirt, her eyes clenched shut.

“Sylvie, look,” I say as I prop the frame up on the side of the box. With one arm around her to keep her safe, I press the other to the bee-covered hive to show her how gentle they are.

She whines as she clutches tighter to me.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” I reply. “That honey you put in your tea comes from here.”

“Yeah, well, I could also get it from the store.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I dig my finger into some of the honeycomb at the edge of the frame, and I show her how easily it drips. My fingers are covered as I bring one to my mouth and lick it clean.

When I look down, her eyes are zeroed in on my hand, so I bring it to her lips. She inspects it for a moment before running her warm tongue along the length of my middle finger. I can’t keep in the low growl that emits at the sight and sensation of her tongue against my digit.

“Bloody hell, woman,” I growl, making her smile.

Just then, a bee buzzes past her head, and she panics, swatting at it with a squeal. As she starts to run, I lose grip of her, and she gets out of my hands.

“Sylvie, relax!”

But she doesn’t. She flails and stumbles until she trips and falls, landing in the grass with a hardthunk. That forces another coughing fit, and I rush over, grabbing the worker bee that had gotten himself stuck in her wild curls. The moment my fingers close around him, he stings me, and I toss him to the ground.

When I hiss, Sylvie looks up at me with concern. Between her coughs, she manages to squeak out, “I told you they were dangerous!”

Using my teeth, I pull out the stinger and spit it into the grass. Then, I lower myself to my knees in front of my wife.

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