Page 3 of Like Bees to Honey
“That easy?” Harald cleared his throat and stepped forward—too close once again. “Seriously, let’s sort this all out. Just you and me.” He waited until she was looking at him. “Have dinner with me, Camellia. Lunch. Coffee. You pick.”
Camellia stared at the man. She waited for the punch line but Harald stayed quiet. “What...did you fall and hit your head?” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or call an ambulance. There was no way she’d let him make a fool of her again.
Harald had the nerve to grin. “I’m clearheaded. A little slow coming around, I’ll grant you that, but I know exactly what I’m doing. You and me, we’re meant to be—I see that now. You’re good for me, Camellia. You always have been. You’ve always called me out. Always seen me for who I am and held me accountable. You—”
“Let you into my home to steal from me and my family?” Camellia finished for him. He couldn’t be serious, could he?Does it matter if he is?“I don’t know what you’re after, but—”
Harald took her hand. “Time. With you.”
Camellia couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Here she was, in the middle of their tiny local grocery store, with Harald Knudson making some sort of declaration—a declaration that couldn’t be real. Why now? Why after all this time?
And why was he holding her hand in front of everyone? No one was moving. No one was shopping. Every single eye was locked on them. She wasn’t sure what to do. Her gaze shifted from their rapt audience to Harald’s handsome and expectant face. He was serious.
“Aunt Camellia?” Astrid arrived, a large bag of all-purpose flour cradled against her chest. “Is everything all right?”
Leif trailed after her, his expression blank but his posture stiff.
Camellia nodded, pulling her hand from Harald’s. Something felt very not right at the moment.
“Dad?” Leif stood straight and tall, looking and sounding older than his sixteen years. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a grocery store, son. I’m getting groceries.” Harald chuckled and tried to give Leif a clap on the shoulder—but the boy dodged. Harald winced, recovering quickly. “And since I had the good fortune to run into Camellia, I figured now was a good time to ask this lovely lady if she’d like to have dinner with me.”
“She would not,” Leif said, putting the cream in the cart. “No chance.”
Van made a gruff—and oddly approving—sound.
Camellia glanced back at the towering butcher, who was glowering at Harald. It was concerning. Van Kettner was a teddy bear of a man and a dear friend. He never had a mean word to say about anyone, visited his mother every Sunday in her retirement community, donated food and money, and volunteered wherever there was need. And never, in all her fifty-two years, had she seen Van upset. No, not just upset—angry. “Van?”
Van’s brow eased as he looked at her. The longer he looked at her, the more like himself he became. “Sunday dinner.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got a fine cut of beef that’d make a mighty tasty roast beef.” He glanced at Harald, wavering, before heading into the back.
Camellia stared after him, wondering what had happened. Clearly, Harald Knudson had done something to the man.
“Camellia.” Harald took her arm and pulled her gently aside, his voice lowered. “I’m thinking this isn’t the time or place for me to pursue this...” He pressed a business card into her hand.
“I have your phone number, Harald.” She tried to return the card to him but he held his hand up.
“Keep it.” He hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his handsome face. “I have no right to ask you to give me another chance, Camellia,” he whispered. “Hell, to ask you for anything. I know I’ve been a rat bastard to you. And a damn stubborn fool. But I...I hope you will.” He searched her face—looking far too intent and vulnerable for her liking. “All right, I’ll leave you alone now.” And with that, he turned and walked away.
Camellia blinked, looking down at the card he’d pressed into her hand. On the back, was a note written in blue block-like letters. Harald’s handwriting.
Since the day I let you go, I’ve been missing you. I promise, if you give me another chance, I won’t make the same mistake again. Always, Harald.
CHAPTER TWO
“WHATWASTHATABOUT?”Leif practically spat the words out, his face flushed and tight.
Camellia gave him a quick one-armed hug. “With Harald? Who knows? Maybe he thought he was being funny.” Camellia forced a grin for Astrid and tucked the business card into her pocket. There was no point in sharing it with them.
Ever since Harald’s secret came out, he’d lost quite a few friends. For years, Viking Honey—the Knudsons’ honey brand—had been using and selling the Hill family’s clover honey recipe as their own. Worse, he’d stolen the recipe when he’d been courting Camellia. To say there was no love lost amongst the Hill women and Harald Knudson was an understatement. But the Bee Girls, her sister and nieces, had rallied and moved on. It was what they did—love and support one another through whatever life threw at them.
Leif was different. Harald was the boy’s father—not much of one, according to Dane, but they were blood. No matter what had happened between them, Camellia would never play a part in turning a son against his father.
“It’s not funny. You said no, right? He didn’t talk you into it? If he did, you can change your mind. You should.” Leif sounded almost panicked. “I know he’s my dad and Ihaveto love him—but that doesn’t mean I don’t know he’s a jerk.” Leif sighed, running his fingers through his mop of blond curls. “He is. Just...don’t go out with him. He’ll screw everything up, for everyone. You deserve better, Camellia,” Leif grumbled.
“Sounds like the boy has some strong feelings about the matter, Camellia.” Van slid a white-paper-wrapped package on the counter. His brown eyes were searching the store, warily. “Sunday dinner roast. Trimmed up.”
“That’s kind of you, Van.” Camellia smiled her thanks.
