Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

DEAN

Climb into the saddle of a bucking mare? Sure. That didn’t scare Dean. It made him alive. But a box full of bees? That terrified him.

How many bones had he broken from getting tossed off a horse? Legs, ankles, feet, nose, clavicle, and his neck. Countless concussions. Seriously, he shouldn’t be intimidated by bugs. Getting stung was nothing compared to a fractured tibia.

Shaking his head at himself, he took a deep breath, and double checked the fit of his super thick flannel and oven mitts. The bees would need to have several inch long stingers if they planned on getting at him. Satisfied with his make-shift bee suit, he charged into the barn.

Insects couldn’t scare him. He could handle this.

Buzzzz.

Shit.

He ducked out of the way of one of the flying bumble butts.

Seriously?

He needed to get it together.

Once more, he straightened his spine and rolled his shoulders back. He’d already opened the tailgate of his truck. The straps to hold the box in place were set. He even parked right outside the barn. All he needed to do was grab it and run.

Holding his breath, he bit the bullet. Placing his hands on either side of the white crate, he lifted and ran as fast as he could to the bed of his truck. He’d hear buzzing in his nightmares.

With the bees secured, he took out of his phone and texted Gemma, asking if she wanted coffee. It wasn’t entirely out of the way, but there was a decent coffee shop nearby. Maybe he’d grab some donuts or something.

As he got into his truck, he swore something crawled up his arm. He dropped his ass inside and frantically swatted at imaginary bees. Once he realized there wasn’t anything there, he rolled his eyes. He needed to get a grip.

Throwing the truck in reverse, he turned and slapped the back of his neck.

Damn bees had him paranoid as hell. He needed a distraction. Reaching for the radio, he flipped through the stations and landed on a nineties alternative station. He bopped his head along for half a second before he realized he’d sung along to No Rain by Blind Melon.

God damn bees were everywhere.

The bells chimed above Dean’s head as he entered the shop. Freshly brewed coffee bombarded his senses as Tim McGraw’s One Bad Habit played softly over the speakers. He took his place in line and checked his phone to make sure he didn’t get Gemma’s order wrong.

He was a black coffee kind of guy. Easy. Simple. Not her. She wanted a macchiato. He wasn’t sure he could pronounce it correctly, but he’d do his best.

“Dean!” A familiar high-pitched squeal drew his attention.

Turning, he spotted Daphne seated at a table opposite a man with salt and pepper hair.

Putting on his most charming smile, he approached the table. “Morning Daphne.”

Quickly, she stood and wrapped him in a brief hug.

The man with her had rose. Dean nodded and tipped his hat. “Good morning.

“Dean, this is my Uncle Todd,” she introduced. “Uncle Todd, this is the saddle bronc rider I told you about.”

“Oh,” Dean’s grin became more genuine as he offered his hand. “It’s great to meet you.”

Uncle Todd accepted and gave Dean a firm shake. “Likewise. Daphne showed me some videos on YouTube of you riding. I can see why Roy’s been happier on the circuit for the last few months.”

“Join us.” Daphne gestured to the seat beside her as she sat. “A few months out of the saddle shouldn’t be too hard to bounce back from, right, Uncle Todd?”

Dean met the older man’s eyes. “Well, that all depends. How long has it been?”

Out of social obligation, Dean joined them. He wasn’t even sure if returning to the rodeo was the right move to make considering the risks, but he could at least hear the guy out.

“Been about six months,” he said.

Uncle Todd nodded. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back and we can continue this.”

As the man left, Daphne scooted her chair closer and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “He’s the best coach in all of Madison County. He’ll get you riding again in no time.”

The chime of the doors drew his attention before he could answer. Parker covered in sawdust entered the coffee shop. The two of them locked eyes.

His best friend lifted his brows in judgment.

“Maybe like a month or so,” Daphne prattled on.

Before Dean could say anything, Parker turned and left. Ah, hell. This didn’t look good at all.

Shifting his focus to Daphne, Dean slid his arm away from her. “Listen, I got a bunch of bees in the back of my truck.”

She peered at him confused.

“I need to get them to their new home. So, I’ll have to get back to your uncle another time.”

He did his best to politely excuse himself. If he moved fast enough, maybe he could catch up with Parker and explain. As he trotted through the door, he caught the Chevy Silverado pulling out onto the main road.

Well shit. He’d already pissed his friend off last night by offering to take Gemma home. Wait until he finds out they kissed. Maybe she’d already told him.

He stepped in it this time.