AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I look up, hardly able to breathe.
“We need money fast, Kara,” Gramps says, defeat in his voice that kills me. “I’ve been trying to find work, but no one will give me a chance. Not even sitting behind a desk, as if my mind is as weak as my body. I thought the figurines would be a quick seller …”
I’m about to cry, something that upsets Gramps to see, and he’ll hate it even more if he thinks it’s because of him. Was it just five or so years ago my grandpa was chopping down trees and hauling bee boxes back and forth out of the forest, climbing up on the roof of this house to fix the leaks so we could save a bit on rent? Now it takes him half an hour to get out of bed in the morning and he needs a cane to make the small movements around the kitchen as he helps me with the skincare products. Arthritis and old age are real sons of bitches.
I open my mouth to ask why he hid the fact we’ve been getting behind on rent.Waybehind, it seems. But I close it again, because I know why. His pride has taken a real blow as his body gets weaker, and thinking about him hauling his sore bones into town to beg for work makes me want to scream. Makes me want to find out who denied him and …
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, putting everything back into the drawer. It’s out of sight but not out of mind. I should have quit school sooner, taken that receptionist job with Dr. Leger, even though his nickname is Dr. Lecher and he thinks sexual harassment laws are just suggestions that don’t apply to him. I grab up one of the little bee figurines. “These are so darn cute I bet we could ask for fifteen dollars apiece. Um, I’m going to go take a walk, maybe check the hives in the forest.”
“I’ll get supper started,” he says, avoiding eye contact with me.
We’re going to pretend everything’s fine. But nothing’s fine as I stomp across the backyard, barely glancing at the neat row of squat wooden hives along the edge of the fence. As soon as I’m in the forest, I can breathe a bit easier. I’ve always loved the quiet solitude of being surrounded by the tall trees, especially now that the leaves are starting to turn the first vibrant colors of fall.
I head toward the hives we have set up in a clearing, but I’m in no hurry to get there so I turn off the trail to take the long way through the dense trees. I want to clear my head and shake off the anxiety that’s clutching at my chest and making it hard to breathe. What will we do if we get evicted? I pull out my phone to check the bank account, but as usual, the reception is too patchy to get a signal. Which is just as well because I know we don’t have enough of an emergency fund to move. The thought of what might happen to the bees if we have to leave brings stinging tears to my eyes and I increase my pace as if I can outrun my worries.
A sudden sharp pain rips at my ankle and I go down like a sack of bricks, hitting the rocky ground with a yelp.
“Idiot,” I hiss at myself, pulling my foot out of the rabbit hole I stumbled into.
Another sharp pain rockets up my leg and I howl out a curse. And then a few more. The damn ankle is at least sprained, maybe worse. How much will the medical bill be? To make matters worse, I hear a stray rustling in the undergrowth nearby. My mind begins to race. I’m the perfect prey for a mountain lion, but as I look around, there’s nothing there. Maybe a snake? That’s not much better. How am I going to get home before all the hungry critters come out and find me?
I turn my attention back to my ankle, prodding at the place that hurts. And itreallyhurts. I check my phone again, but there’s still no reception. I’m utterly screwed. Who knows how long it’ll take me to get back to the house like this?
When I turn around once more at a new rustling sound, there’s a man standing where there wasn’t anything before.
I suck in a breath, clapping my hand over my mouth to keep from squealing with … fear? Yes, absolutely. But shock and awe as well. This guy standing in between two trees ishuge. Definitely professional basketball player tall, maybe seven feet. Broad shoulders stretch the seams of a long-sleeved black shirt, and a vest that might be made of snakeskin hugs massive pecs that taper down to a slim waist and hips encased in black leather pants. Long, black hair rustles in a breeze I’m too shocked to feel. He grins down at me, making me feel like I’m about to pass out. His eyes flash in the sunlight filtering through the leaves, and they’re the rich color of honey. His teeth white against his tan skin as he smiles.
I can’t move, even though my instincts are at war.Get away. Get closer. He’s not just huge, built like a mountain that makes the tall trees all around us seem almost like saplings next to him, but he’s mesmerizingly gorgeous on top of that. Did I hit my head when I landed?
I reach to feel for lumps, gasping when he steps forward. Once again, the sun makes his amber eyes go dark, then golden again.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, his voice a deep, musical rumble that thrums through my muscles and makes me weak.
I straighten my spine and stick my chin out, trying to pretend I’m not at his mercy. Even if I could get up on my bad ankle and run, he’d catch me in two steps on those long, muscular legs of his. Damn it, I’m looking at his thighs encased in the dark leather pants, when I should be glaring up at his amused face.
“Who are you?” I demand. “This is private land.” He doesn’t need to know we only rent it. I know for damn sure he’s not our landlord.
He covers the few yards between us in a blink and crouches down beside me, gently taking my ankle in his huge hand. His touch is firm, but feather light against the sore spot as he prods gently, then slips my sneaker off to massage the top of my foot.
“I didn’t know I was trespassing,” he says.
It’s not an apology. Also, why am I letting this stranger massage my foot? Yes, it feels damn good, butstill. He tears a piece of his shirt off as if it’s tissue paper and begins securely wrapping the fabric around my ankle.
“Well, you are,” I say, grabbing onto the nearest tree and hoisting myself up. I keep my bad foot hovering just above the ground. Even wrapped up tight, it hurts like the dickens.
He smiles down at me, which makes me blink several times with nerves. His chiseled, dark face is gorgeous when it’s blank of emotion, but, when his full lips turn up I get a little weak. I tell myself it’s probably just the injury messing with my blood pressure.
He leans close. Is he sniffing me? “I’m Zorion,” he says. “And you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, which makes his smile even wider.
“That’s an odd name, but I suppose I’m not one to judge odd names.”
“My name is Kara,” I huff, forcing my face not to smile back at him.
He reaches forward, but if he thinks I’m going to shake his hand like we’re besties all of a sudden, he’s wrong. For all I know, he’s been disturbing the bees, maybe even stealing our honey. Instead of trying to shake my hand, though, he reaches into my shirt pocket and plucks out the bee figurine of Grandpa’s that I stuffed in there.
“This is marvelous. It’s what smells so intoxicating,” he says, raising it to his nose to sniff. He frowns and leans closer to me. “Or is it?” he seems to ask himself, so I don’t answer.
