“What did you expect us to do, Max? Not feed her?” Ailene charged, coming out from the stockroom with a smile on her face. “And what about you? You look like you could use a snack.”
She rounded the counter with the same tray of toasts she’d offered to me, pointing to the three different ones she wanted him to eat.
“After this, I’m going to have to walk back to Stonebar, Aunt Ailene,” he teased, but didn’t turn her down. It was pretty impossible to turn down Ailene Kinkade.
From the moment you met her, Ailene made you feel like she’d take on the world to take care of you. Maybe it was only striking to me because it was so different from when I’d met Mrs. McCormick.Never call her Mary,Todd instructed me. Maybe he was thinking, hoping she’d tell me to call her Mom now that we were going to be married. She never did. The only thingMrs. McCormickmade me feel was that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never fit into her world.
“What’s that?” Max nodded to the jar in my hand.
“Harper’s new honey.” I handed him the jar, our fingers brushing like sparks on kindling.
Two weeks I’d spent almost every day by Max’s side while we did the MaineStems deliveries. It reminded me of the early days of his business and our relationship—our friendship.Except there wasn’t Todd between us now. Not like he was then.
“Here, give me your hand,” Harp demanded, sinking her knife back into the open jar and pulling out a dab.
Max only pretended to look wary as he extended a single finger. The reality was that there was nothing Max wouldn’t do for his family, but especially for his younger sister.
“What is it?” he asked as she smeared the honey on his index finger.
“Blueberry honey,” I answered, catching the way his eyes darted to his sister.And was that a blush?
“It took a few tries to get the blend perfect, but I’d like to see Eastwood try to claim I copied this,” Harper said it with bravado, but I heard the pain buried in her chest.
Yesterday, after our normal deliveries, Max said he needed to drop off some pallets to Harper and asked if I minded coming along. On the way, he revealed Harper was embroiled in alegal battle with another local beekeeper, Adam Eastwood, who claimed she was infringing on his branding because she had a bee in her logo, and so did he.
It didn’t matter that hundreds of honey brands used bee icons in their logos. He was jealous of her product and decided villainizing her was the best way to bully her out of the market. He targeted her online, got his customers to review-bomb her business, but Max worried it was more than that. Harper refused to ask Wade for legal help. She continued to weather the damage to Harper’s Honey’s reputation in silence.
“Harper, could you put those jars up front for me?” Ailene asked, drawing Harper away and leaving Max and me to ourselves for a second.
One second for time to taste the treat. And for me to lose my mind.
Max dragged his tongue up his finger, electrifying every nerve in my body. And then when his lips closed around the tip, everything shorted. My mouth dried. My heart stumbled. My core clenched. All of me was an open fuse that wanted that mouth to ground me. That wanted his tongue gliding over my skin. Into my mouth. That wanted his lips sucking on my sensitive nipples and then lower, between my thighs?—
“Daisy?”
I flinched, blinking rapidly back to the present. Harped looked at me with worry, completely ignorant of what her brother’s mouth was doing to my mind.Or maybe not.
“Are you okay?” Her head tipped. “You look a little flushed.”
They were wrong about the morning sickness, but they weren’t wrong about the hormones. They swept in like a hurricane. One minute, I was fine. The next, I was aching and horny and salivating…and only for Max.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Aunt Ailene, do you have some sparkling water in the fridge?” Max interrupted, now scrutinizing me as well.
“Of course.” His aunt disappeared to the back again.
I almost protested, but decided having them think I was overheated was better than revealing I was just horny.
“Thank you,” I said when she returned with a fresh bottle. I didn’t know what fizzy magic it was, but there was something so quenching about the tiny bubbles gliding back along my tongue.
“Better?” Max checked after I’d taken three large sips.
“Cooler. Thank you.”But not better.To be better, I’d need a different kind oftall drink of water.
Satisfied, Max’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he spoke to his sister, “That was really good, Harp.”
“Maybe I’ll call itthe Daisy,” she said, and I watched the color drain into Max’s face.
