Page 4 of Like Bees to Honey
“What did he do to you, Mr. Kettner? You looked like you wanted to punch him.” Leif slumped forward to rest his elbows on the grocery cart handle, and shot Van a look. “I’m guessing it must have been something bad.”
Camellia had been thinking the same thing. Van’s angerwasmore than a little unusual.
“I can’t rightly say he’s ever done a thing tome.” Van gave a one-shouldered shrug.
Leif frowned. “Then why do you want to punch him?”
“Ah. I hate to disappoint you, Leif, but it’s been many a year since I punched a man.” Van chuckled. “In my experience, violence doesn’t solve a thing, it tends to make things worse.”
Camellia appreciated the man’s take on things. According to Dane, Leif had been called to the principal’s office on more than one occasion for fighting. As much as she’d like to think the boy had learned his lesson, a reminder—from someone like Van—couldn’t hurt.
“Sure.” Leif rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m pretty sure you’d have punched him.”
“Leif.” Astrid elbowed the boy in the side.
“Sorry,” Leif mumbled, his cheeks going pink.
That’s my sweet boy.Camellia patted the boy’s back while Astrid gave him an approving smile. Apologies didn’t come easy for Leif.
“Do we need to get anything else?” Leif looked ready to go.
Camellia couldn’t blame him. She was ready for home, some lavender-honey tea and a sit with her feet up.Except I have four dozen cookies to make in... She glanced at her watch. “Oh, good gravy, look at the time. You and Astrid run get the condensed milk and powdered sugar? Oh, and some pumpkin spice and cinnamon.” She paused, holding up one finger as she scanned her list. “And baking soda. And baking powder.”
Astrid and Leif waited.
“That’s it.” Camellia gave her list a final perusal. “Yes, yes, that’s it. I’ll get the produce.”
“You’re sure?” Leif asked, all smiles once more.
“I am.” Camellia nodded.
“Best have your phone out.” Astrid’s whisper wasn’t much of a whisper. “I bet she’ll text you a handful more things she needs before we even make it to the baking aisle.”
The two of them walked off, pushing the cart, laughing.
“Those two are something else,” Camellia said to Van, shaking her head. “I think Astrid misses having her little sister around. Having Leif, even if he is that much younger than Rosemary, helps—especially now that Tansy’s so wrapped up in Dane.”
“It’s good you and your nieces have adopted him into the family.” Van paused, then added, “Good to see him smiling. And it’s nice to see him standing up for you, too.”
Camellia was a little caught off guard by the way Van’s eyes swept over her face. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear those brown eyes of his lingered on her mouth. But of course, she did know better. Van was her friend—and far too practical for lingering glances.
Van cleared his throat, his gaze locking with hers and holding. “I know it’s not my place to speak up but, maybe, think about what Leif said.” He cleared his throat again and the muscle in his jaw ticked. “About Harald.”
Camellia hadn’t expected that—not how serious he looked or the intensity of his tone.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and I’d never tell you what to do.” He swallowed, his jaw tightening again. “I’d never do or say a thing to disrespect you. I hope you know that.” He paused, his attention dipping—briefly—to her mouth.
The way he was looking at her... Her lungs deflated so suddenly that she feared she’d stop breathing.
“It’spossibleHarald’s finally realized the mistake he made.” His eyes narrowed briefly. “He might see that he wasted his chance with you and that, if he’d been smart, he should have done anything—no matter what—to get you back. It’s likely, he regrets all the time with you he can’t get back.” He stared down at the top of the display case, his hand fisting. “Regret is likely eating him up. It should.” He sounded incredulous—and more than a little forceful. Almost as if there was more to what he was saying? But what? What stake did Van have in any of this?
He ran a hand over his face, drawing Camellia’s attention to his muscled forearm and his rolled-up sleeve.
Van has a tattoo?She blinked.Is it warm in here?Camellia resisted the urge to fan herself or continue staring at Van’s tattoo or his muscled forearm.It was definitely warm.
When his brown eyes met hers, they sparked with a hint of something deep and warm and toe-curling. Van had never looked at her like this before. And she didn’t know what to make of it. She swallowed, hard—a sudden tug in her chest startling her.
“If he’s just now figuring out you’re one hell of a woman, he’s a damn fool.” He shook his head, pulling his eyes from her and staring at the contents of the meat cabinet. The muscle in his jaw clenched before he went on. “Excuse me for that.”
