Page 70 of Honey Be Mine
“Yep. The sooner, the better.” She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yes, ma’am.” He was smiling. “What about you?”
“Fishing?” She knew that wasn’t what he meant, but his chuckle was reward enough.
“What are you doing to recharge?” His eyes lingered on her mouth before he reached for his glass of ice water.
Her heart sped up, thumping around inside her chest. “I’m doing it.” The words were noticeably unsteady, so she cleared her throat. “Painting.”
“I’m glad.” His gaze was warm on her face. “And writing books.”
“It wasn’t planned. Bea inspired me. She’s a little sponge, you know? Soaking up everything with a sense of wonder. I wanted to do something for her—to give her something worth soaking up.” She shrugged. “That might sound silly.”
“Not at all, Rosebud.” His smile was encouraging. “You light up when you talk about bees and beekeeping, so I know it’s important to you. It’s a shame you’re not planning on selling the books.”
“It’s all happening so fast. Who knows what the future will bring.” She straightened her silverware, her eyes shifting his way over and over.
“Bee books or not, I am a fan of you and your art.” His warm brown eyes were steady on her face. “Who knows? With time and reading your bee books, bees could grow on me.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Everett.” But then, he was sweet. And handsome. Oh so handsome.Stop staring.She glanced down at the menu, picked it up, and blindly scanned the offerings. It took a few tries before she was able to focus on the meal choices versus the man sitting opposite her. By the time the waiter appeared to take their order, Rosemary gave up and ordered a salad and a glass of wine. With any luck, the wine would help her relax.
“Not hungry?” he asked once the waiter was gone.
She shrugged. She wasn’t hungry. She was nervous. And since this was Everett and she’d always been honest with him, she admitted, “I’m nervous.”
Everett almost choked on the sip of the tea he’d taken.
“Sorry.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “We’ve always been honest with each other.” Except for the bombshell he’d dropped on her about being in love with her—and being over her, that is. If he was still over her, what was this all about?
“We have. Mostly.” His gaze met hers and held. “I’m nervous, too.”
Which didn’t clear up what was happening between them but was a comfort all the same. All she knew was that, right now, she was drowning in those deep brown eyes and she liked it. He had no idea how flustered she was—how flustered he made her. Or how much she hoped he’d kiss her before the night was over.
LEAVEITTORosebud to cut to the chase. But he was glad. He wanted her to know this was a date. He wanted her to know how happy he was they were here, together—wanted her to know he was nervous, too.
Her cheeks were flushed when her gaze fell from his. “Are you going to run for mayor?”
“That’s not what I was expecting.” He chuckled.
“No?” Her brows rose. “Hmm... Want me to ask you about your dating history next?”
“No, that’s okay.” He grinned and sat back. “I don’t think I am going to run for mayor. I love my job. I don’t love doing Mayor Contreras’s job.”
She nodded. “You don’t think it would be different if you were actually the mayor?”
“I think it would be worse. As it is, I can defer back to him. I might be covering for him, but at the end of the day, it’s his responsibility—not mine.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I want to go fishing, have a weekend off now and then, take a beautiful woman out for a meal, and not have to worry about a hundred texts rolling in wanting immediate answers and action.” He shrugged. “That’s not for me.”
She nodded. “Knowing what you want is a good thing.”
“Didn’t pick up on the compliment I slipped in there?” He watched her cheeks go pink. “What about you, Rosebud? I know coming back to Honey wasn’t part of your plan. What’s your plan look like now?” He held his breath, hoping like hell her plan included staying here.
“I’m not entirely sure yet.” She straightened her napkin and silverware. “But I’m happy.”
“Happy is good.” He tried not to be too disappointed. If Rosebud was happy, he was happy. That’s the way it worked. Would he be happier if she said she was staying? One hundred percent, but he wasn’t going to pressure her. Whatever she decided, he wanted it to be what was right for her—uncolored by anyone else’s opinions or preferences.
Dinner was served, and conversation went well. They started by reminiscing over childhood memories and ended with Rosemary telling him all about her team in California and filling him in more thoroughly on the James Voigt situation. It only confirmed what he’d already pieced together: the man was a jackass. Worse, the man had hurt Rosebud.
“He wasn’t wrong. I’ve never needed praise or recognition. I wanted to be part of the team.” She poked at her salad but hadn’t eaten much. “It doesn’t make sense for me to be so upset over this.”
