Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

DEAN

After three hours of sorting through his grandmother’s shit, Dean decided if he saw another Hummel tchotchke, he would burn it. Figurines, plates, cross stitches. Where had the woman found all these stupid things?

When his stomach rumbled, he took a break. Unfortunately, the night before, he’d emptied the refrigerator and cabinets of all the spoiled food Gram had left behind. So, he didn’t have a damn thing to eat for lunch.

Ugh. He despised grocery shopping. Snatching his keys off the counter, he headed out of the house. As he exited, he was surprised to see the truck parked beside his.

No way. Gemma couldn’t still be removing bees. Trotting down the stairs, he whistled. If she was, the decent thing to do was offer her lunch. He was a good southern gentleman, after all.

As he approached the enormous mouth of the barn, he noticed there wasn’t a single bee buzzing about. That was a positive sign.

Stepping inside, the most glorious sight he’d seen in ages immediately struck him.

Wrapped in tight black spandex were two round globes of a spectacular ass. Gemma had grown into a fine young woman— especially from this angle. Leaning against the barn’s doorframe, he admired the awesome view.

“Gotcha!” she announced as she sat back on her heels, holding what looked like a plastic hair clip.

“What’d you catch?” he asked.

“Jesus Christ!” She whirled and bobbled the clear holder. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Biting back his laugh, he held up his palms. “Sorry. Thought you heard me whistling up the path.”

“I didn’t,” she said as she inspected the plastic box. “But anyway. This is the queen.”

He stepped closer. “How do you know? She got a crown or something?”

Glaring at him, she placed it on the tall white box covered in bees. “She’s bigger than the rest and shaped differently. Her wings stubbier.”

Dean nodded as he crouched beside her, observing the clump of bees marching from his wall to the fresh box.

Wait a minute.

“What the hell happened to my barn?”

Walls were missing. She’d taken down what little quality wood he’d had left and sawed right into it.

“What do you mean?” She peered at him. “I had to get the hive out.”

He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, hell.”

“It was either that or leave them in the wall.”

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. This barn would be the financial death of him, for sure. Maybe he should demolish it and start over. That had to be cheaper.

“It’s not that bad,” she said, and placed a hand on his thigh.

Immediately, he stared at it as her warmth spread through him. He was no stranger to a woman’s touch, but this felt different. It was Gemma , the cute button-nosed eight-year-old who he gave sunflowers to after she broke her wrist while the three of them were hunting bullfrogs.

“Most of what I cut out was rotted. You were going to tear it out and replace it, anyway.”

“You’re right,” he said on a sigh.

“So,” she gave him a quick, friendly slap to his leg. “What do you want to do with the honey and combs?”

He furrowed his brow. “The what? Get rid of them.”

“But it’s perfectly good honey. I can collect it for you, jar it up, and even make candles or lip balm with the wax.” She paused. “If Parker ever gets his ass over to my place to fix my extractor.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

She shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all out of time. Spinning too fast. Three frames got busted and I didn’t get a damn drop of honey.”

“Parker can’t fix that.”

“What do you mean? He’s a contractor. He can fix anything.”

Dean scoffed. “No, he can’t. That’s a motor problem. He doesn’t know his ass from his elbow with motors. I’ll come by tomorrow and do it.”

“You?” She snickered. “It’s not a horse. What do you know about this stuff?”

He couldn’t believe she doubted him. “I’m sorry, but have you forgotten the Welker Brothers Auto Care?”

“Wasn’t that your dad and your uncle’s shop?”

“Yeah.”

“It closed forever ago. What does that have to do with you?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sighed. “I used to work there. I did all kinds of tune ups and what not. One motor is like any other. I can fix it.”

“Okay. I guess you can give it a shot.”

He dipped his chin in a small nod. “I gotta head down to the hardware store first and add to the shit ton of lumber your brother had already ordered for the barn. So, I’ll stop by tomorrow after breakfast.”

She stepped away and scribbled on the paper attached to her clipboard. “Great.” She ripped a sheet off and extended it to him. “If you want, you can drop off the bees and pay your bill when you get there.”

“What?” He reluctantly accepted the paper. “You aren’t taking them now?”

She glanced down at the bug covered box. “Not unless you want me to leave some behind.”

He followed her gaze. A bunch of bees still buzzed about. Rows and rows of them crawled down his wall, making their way toward the box.

“See these guys on top.” She pointed. “With their butts in the air?”

“Yeah.”

“That means they’ve accepted this as their new hive and are emitting this pheromone, so all the other workers come home. If I take it now, there will be a bunch of orphaned bees left behind. I thought you wanted them all gone, not just some.”

He nodded.

“Bring them tomorrow and everyone should be in their new home.”

Her smirk both allured him and taunted him.

“That is, unless you’re afraid of a few bees.”

“No. I’ll do it.”

“Great! See you tomorrow.”