“Can I try some?” she asked.
Bailey raised a brow. “Are you going to test if it’s organic through your skin?”
Sydney’s eyes went wide. “No. I just meant it looks nice, and I wanted to…” Her voice dropped down to a mumble as her face flashed a heated red.
Bailey only laughed. “I’m kidding. Go ahead. You can use that jarsomeoneruined.” She glared back at me as if I’d actually done something wrong.
Sydney ran her manicured nail through it, picking some up and putting it on the back of her hand before rubbing it in. She brought it to her nose, smelling the body butter.
“This smells amazing,” she said. “It’s sweet and luxurious but fresh. I couldn’t get anything like this in the city.”
It was Bailey’s turn to flush. She’d never been the best at accepting compliments, even when her work really was amazing. “Thanks. It’s my special blend.”
“Well, you should get this on shelves everywhere. People would love it.”
“You’re too kind. You can take that messed-up jar; I can just scrape some off the top for you.”
Sydney gave her a vibrant smile I’d only seen a couple of times, but each time I witnessed it, it felt more and more special. “Thank you. I would like that.”
Bailey packed that up for her before we suited up to go out to where the bees were kept. They were very active by the time we got there, milling around the fields and going back and forth to the hives. It always felt so nice and peaceful out here. The humming of the bees provided a nice white noise, and they were used to humans, so they were fairly docile.
Sydney snapped the photos she needed while chatting with my sister. They seemed to get along pretty well and even discovered a shared love for a reality TV show they both watched religiously.
“I go to the café to download every new episode as soon as it airs,” Bailey said. “It’s one of the only places in town with Wi-fi. The owner opens late so I can get it right when it’s out.”
“Yeah, you have to stay on top of it, or else you’ll fall behind and never catch up. I’m glad I started in the beginning. Which couple was your favorite last season?”
And on it went, as they discussed their favorite and least favorite contestants, the heartbreaks, and their favorite revenge moments.
That conversation almost had me rethinking their sanity.
But soon Sydney had taken all her notes and photos and collected all her samples. She then put her stuff away and pulled out her personal camera. “May I?” she asked.
“Sure,” Bailey said. “The bees don’t mind.”
They both laughed as Sydney uncapped her lens and fiddled with the settings. Though I’d spent most of the morning just sitting back and watching, it felt like something I could do all day. Sydney seemed to pull me in, like she had her own gravity, the kind that consumed all my thoughts. I knew I shouldn’t think like this. That she would soon pack up and head back to the city, and I would stay here with my farm, but every time I had that thought I pushed it away, unable to manage it.
Once Sydney was done with the bee photos, we went back to the work shed and took off the suits.
“Thanks for the tour,” Sydney said to Bailey. “I enjoyed it.”
“You’re welcome. Come by anytime. And I’ll see you at the market,” Bailey said to me.
I nodded, and we made our way out. It was still late morning. We could probably head to one of the fields close by before heading out to lunch.
“Do you mind if I take a few more photos before we go?” Sydney asked, gesturing to the rest of the fields.
“Yeah, we can do that.”
I followed her toward the tall stalks of flowers. They were all in various stages of bloom since it was a bit early in the season, but no less beautiful than when it was a full sea of color.
I watched as she took a few wide shots, getting the blue sky in the background. Then she bent down, I’m assuming to get some close-ups of the flowers. As she did, her jeans flexed and her ass bounced slightly, showing off her curves in a way that had me blushing from horn to hoof.
I forced myself to turn away. If I let myself look and let my mind wander any further, there was a one-hundred-percent chance I’d get hard in the middle of this field, and I couldn’t have that.
I closed my eyes and let my face turn up toward the sun. It was something I’d done since I was small; something about the warmth on my face made me feel centered and comforted. And it was a good distraction from my current predicament. Especially when added to the shuttering of the camera.
When I glanced back, the lens was no longer facing the flowers on the ground but up. Facing me.
