Page 27 of Sweeter Than Honey
“I do. Cara Neal Designs was a hell of a lot of work, but the payoff has been nice. Being away from my store is killing me, but at least now I can get into the back end of things while I’m gone.” She patted the laptop box.
“How’d you get started doing that?”
A pang hit her in the chest at the question. She didn’t like to think about the origin story of her business because if things hadn’t happened the way they had, she probably never would have made her first piece.
“After my parents—you know what? I thought we weren’t going to get immersed in each other’s lives.”
He looked at her then, but she couldn’t read his expression. “Fair enough. Sorry to pry.”
No, she was being petty. Tracing her fingers around the edge of the box, she resumed her visual out the window. “I took up jewelry making to help cope with my parents’ deaths a few years back and it turned into a business. I worked in real estate before that, sold enough homes to pay for my startup costs so I didn’t have to take out loans. My work got featured in a couple celebrity blogs and business just kind of grew organically after that.”
His lips pulled into a sympathetic line. “I’m sorry about your parents. We lost our mother a while ago.”
She thought he might say more. Morbid curiosity made her wonder what happened to his wife and daughter. But he didn’t elaborate, and a shade of guilt settled over her. What was wrong with her? It was none of her business what happened to them.
“You sell mostly online, or in a studio?”
“Both. I have an online store and a physical location in Kansas City. My assistant is overseeing things until I can… well, until I can get back.” Not that it would be happening any time soon. “What about you?”
His brow knitted together. “Me?”
“You sell your honey, right? Do you have an online store?”
“No internet, remember? No, I sell locally because I enjoy it. Most of the restaurants in town get lettuce, hydroponic tomatoes, and micro and salad greens once a week, and honey delivered once a month. When it stops being fun, I’ll stop selling.”
She hadn’t had the chance to walk around his property aside from seeing the hives. “Do you have greenhouses?”
“Three. Two standard and one hydroponic.”
“What do you do in the winter, the off-season?”
They rounded the last corner before his house.
“Didn’t Allie tell you? I’m an underwear model on the side.”
The truck slowed, his posture growing straighter in his seat. Cara gave him a dubious look. She could see it, him in nothing but an expensive pair of designer briefs. His ass looked great in jeans, so it only made sense it would look better in tight fitting underwear.
“Ha, ha, ha,” she teased.
But his attention was focused on something ahead. Following his gaze, tingles raced down the back of her neck at the large blue pickup parked in the middle of the road, blocking their path.
“I’m joking,” he replied, absently. “I don’t wear any so why the hell would I model it? Stay in the truck. Lock the doors behind me.”
He jumped out and glanced back, nodding for her to click the locks. She swallowed hard and watched as Jett approached a silver-haired man leaning causally against the blue truck. He didn't look like any of the men that attacked her, but that didn't mean he wasn't from the same pack. How could he have found her so soon?
The way Jett approached the man suggested he knew him. He was on edge, alert, but gave the man a nod of greeting as if they were acquaintances. They didn’t shake hands, though, or appear overly friendly. The older man began speaking and Jett facilitated between not responding and giving a tight nod.
Their interactions made her a bit nervous, though she was convinced this man wasn’t out to get her. Curious, she cracked the window. The gears squealed a bit as she pressed the down button. Shit! She hoped Jett didn’t notice. If he had, he didn’t react.
They were too far away for her to catch most of their words over the rumble of the engine. Something about the land. She couldn't get much more than that. Both men glanced her way, then continued talking. Jett sliced a hand through the air in clear agitation. The other man waved both hands in a circle, then threw them in the air, spun, and got inside his truck. Jett remained where he was until the other men made a hasty Y-turn and left.
Cara unlocked the doors as Jett approached, wondering what the conversation had been about to put such a sour look on his face. He got into his seat and slammed the door closed.
"Next time you decide to eavesdrop, be less conspicuous about it.”
She crossed her arms. She'd been caught. "I was scared he was one ofthoseshifters."
Jett reached across the seat and lightly grabbed her wrist. Her skin exploded in hot little tingles, the shock of his touch robbing her breath.
