Page 13 of Honey for the Bear

Is she worth the risk?

I already know the answer.

But knowing it and acting on it are two very different things.

Chapter 7

Hannah

Thelateafternoonsundips low over the farm, bathing everything in a golden haze.I adjust my wide-brimmed hat, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead as I move from one hive to the next.The bees hum lazily around me, their soft buzzing blending with the breeze that rustles through the wildflowers.Normally, this is my favorite time of day—a quiet, sacred moment when the world seems to exhale.

But peace feels impossible today.

I can’t stop thinking about him.Cameron Barrett, with his broad shoulders and unreadable gray eyes.Cameron, who’s been coming around my farm more often, fixing fences, repairing roofs, and leaving me more confused with every passing day.He’s like a storm trapped in a man, all pent-up energy and tension, and I can’t figure out why he keeps pulling away just when it feels like we’re getting closer.

The sound of boots crunching on gravel pulls me out of my thoughts.I turn, startled, and there he is, standing near the fence.He’s wearing his usual flannel shirt and jeans, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his shoulders hunched like he’s bracing for something.

“Cameron,” I say, my voice soft with surprise.“What are you doing here?”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking to the hives before settling on me.“I wanted to check on the fence,” he mutters, nodding toward the section he repaired last week.

I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow.“The fence is fine.You did a great job.”

“Still.Thought I’d make sure.”

Something in his voice—low and rough, like gravel sliding down a mountainside—sends a shiver through me.I watch as he shifts his weight, his hands flexing at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“You can come closer, you know,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.“I don’t bite.Unless you’re made of honey.”

For a moment, I think I see the corner of his mouth twitch—almost a smile—but it’s gone before I can be sure.“I’m not made of honey,” he says, but he steps closer anyway, his boots sinking into the soft earth.

I take off my gloves and tuck them into my pocket, watching him carefully.Something’s different about him today.He seems… restless.His shoulders are tense, his jaw tight, and his gray eyes—God, those eyes—are darker than usual, like a storm cloud is brewing behind them.

“Cameron,” I say gently, taking a step toward him.“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that.”I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him.“You’ve been acting strange ever since…” I falter, unsure how to finish the sentence.Ever since he started helping me around the farm?Ever since he began looking at me like I’m the only person in the world?“Ever since we’ve been spending more time together,” I say finally, my voice quieter.

His gaze drops to the ground.He scuffs his boot against the dirt, silent for a long moment before finally looking up at me.His eyes are full of something I can’t quite name—desire, maybe, or regret.

“Hannah,” he says, and the way he says my name—low and rough, like it’s been pulled from somewhere deep inside him—makes my heart skip a beat.“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” I say, stepping closer.I’m close enough now that I can smell him—pine and sawdust and something warm and earthy that makes my head spin.“Because I’m tired of guessing what’s going on in that head of yours.”

His jaw tightens.His hands clench into fists at his sides, and for a moment, I think he’s going to walk away.But then, to my shock, he reaches out and cups my face in his hands.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Then show me,” I whisper.

And just like that, the dam breaks.

His lips crash down on mine, and I gasp, heat exploding through me.His hands slide to my waist, pulling me against him, and I melt into him, everything inside me screamingyes.His kiss is rough, desperate, like he’s been holding himself back for years and can’t anymore.

My hat falls to the ground as I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his thick hair.His stubble scrapes against my skin, sending little shocks of sensation racing through me.His lips are warm, his kiss fierce and consuming, and I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but give myself over to him.

“Cameron,” I murmur against his mouth, my voice barely a breath.

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