Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
We’re going to make sure the Rory brothers wind up with the best streamlined small-time honey production outside North Dakota. Surprise, surprise, that’s the top honey state in the nation. Producers are everywhere, big and small.
When we’re finally ready to go, Archer clears his throat. “How’d you get here, anyway? I didn’t see your car.”
“Uber.”
“Not driving?”
I shrug. “Technically, it’s my dad’s car now. His name was on the title since he’s the one who bought it as a graduation present. I’m sure he’ll have it tracked down and repo’d at some point. I don’t want to cause more grief by driving it much longer.”
Archer sends me a searching glance.
I deflect with a bland smile, trying to hide just how cooked my life is.
“Let me take you back,” he says. “I know money’s tight.”
I should be embarrassed.
It’s awkward knowing that a guy with so much money to his name knows exactly how broke I am. But something about the way he says it takes the sting away.
It’s not condescension, it’s kindness.
I’ve been around both long enough to know the difference, when someone’s doing you a selfless favor or when they’re only helping to put you in debt.
“Also, I’d like to get a better look at the bees without Colt around,” he adds.
“You do?” I can’t help it, I grin up at him.
“You promised me a gold mine and it’s my duty to check it out. Thoroughly.”
“You won’t be disappointed.” I practically skip over to his waiting Tesla SUV, which unlocks as he draws near. It’s sleek and expensive and gorgeous.
I always wanted one, even if they aren’t the most practical for the occasional cross-country drive to DC and back when my boss wasn’t flying us.
I guess this is a good time to figure out if it’s something I actually want one day.
Just like everything else in my life.
If there’s ever been a time to reinvent Winnie Emberly, it’s now.
As I strap myself in, I beam at him.
One corner of his mouth curls up into an easy, cool smile. On Archer Rory, that’s a Cheshire cat’s grin.
Without another word, he starts the vehicle and we set off.
If someone told me a few days ago that this no-nonsense, fussy lunk would make me double over laughing, I’d have called them a liar.
Yet here I am.
Breathless, sore, bent over and clutching my stomach, all while he eyes the bees with downright suspicion.
“They’re so… loud.” His nose wrinkles and he bares his teeth.
“Well, yeah. They’re bees!” I gasp, trying not to fall into another laughing fit.
He really is a human bear, clumsily shooing them away with his large hands when they get too close.
Except here, they’re always too close because technically we’re in their space.
“Aren’t you supposed to smoke them out or something?”
“Nah. Some keepers use smoke to keep them docile while they get the honey, but we’re not doing that. We’re just looking today.” I catch his arm when he moves to shoo more of them away. “Don’t do it. If you antagonize them, you’ll get stung for sure.”
“Isn’t there a way to keep them the hell out of my face?”
“Dude, relax. Slow movements. No fear, no anger. If you scare them or show up flapping your hands around, that’s when they consider you a threat.”
“They’re not bothering you.” He glares at me.
I raise a hand, watching as the bees fly past. A couple land on my arm, crawl around for a few seconds, then fly off.
“See? No harm, no foul. You just have to wait and trust they won’t hurt you.”
“They sting, Winnie.”
I laugh. “Archer, I’m aware. That doesn’t mean they lash out for no reason.”
A bee tangles up in my hair. I wait for it to figure out how to free itself.
Archer looks like he wants to help, but I shake my head slowly. He doesn’t have my bee-whisperer skills or my patience.
Knowing him, he’ll try to flick the bee out of my hair and get me stung right in the ear.
“I reached out to some other beekeepers in the area,” I say once the bee flies off. “I sent them a few pics of the honey and they were pumped. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything like this in the region.”
His eyes are a dusky shade of blue as he looks at me, and I feel the full weight of his focus. Even the bees don’t distract him now, and my throat tightens at the sight of it.
The sight of him.
“The color and sweetness could make it an attractive product. It’ll have to be bottled up and branded, of course, but you’re already a genius with that stuff,” I continue. “And that’s not taking the medicinal properties into consideration. We’ll need the lab panel to determine that. There are plenty of private places, or maybe the local university could—”
“What the fuck.” His eyebrows draw together. “Winnie, are you sure you don’t have a PhD in entomology?”