"And onto another weed, Miss Buttons. This one is purslane. ...Ouch!"

I had placed my left hand down as I reached at the base of a tomato plant, and then shrieked as I felt a pinch in the center of my palm. I yanked my hand back and stared at the bee covered in fluffy purple pollen, half squished into the dirt. "Oh no, oh no! I'm so sorry little guy," I spoke to him in sad tones, knowing he would now die.

I waved my stinging hand in the air a bit as I pulled the offending weed anyway and chucked it as far as I could. It landed in a nearby wolfsbane patch, caught on one of the tall violet flowers like a fly stuck in a web.

Dang that hurt!

"What happened?" A husky male voice came out of nowhere. I startled and grabbed at my chest, some grumble of a throat noise happening verses a scream.

I looked up to the towering form of one of Nate's friends from yesterday with my heart pounding out my chest. The one with a stubbly chin and light brown hair, though he was now clean shaven. It was incredibly bizarre to see him there, hovering tall above my garden.

"Adam?" I tentatively asked, trying to remember his name.

"What happened to your hand?" Adam asked again, thick brows down against his eyes.

"Gosh... you scared the daylights out of me."

"Your hand," he prompted.

"What are you..."

"Your hand."

I tried to steady my breathing and looked down to my palm. "Oh...um, it's fine. Just a bee sting." I held my hand out to show it was alright. "See?"

"Come inside."

"I'm alright." I turned back to the tomatoes. "I'll just finish this row up first." I bent to another weed.

"No. Now." He grabbed around my stung hand and pulled me to my feet, though without any pain. My stomach thundered in surprise as he started tugging me to my own house. He opened the door and guided me to a kitchen chair, then sat at the next one over. He dug in his pocket and brought out a pocketknife.

"What...?" I started incredulously.

"Hand," he motioned and pulled the blade from the cover then held his palm up.

What was he going to do? Chop my arm off? No thank you stranger with a knife.

"Hand!" He commanded again.

I still hesitated. But he was a wolf. He could force me or hurt me easily if I didn't comply. Though I realized I wasn't afraid of him like I was Milo's men. So with a nod, I timidly put my hand against his and breathed deep at the warmth of his hand around mine.

Werewolves always had such a high body temperature.

He pressed the blade flat against my palm and scraped until the stinger came out, then wiped the blade against his camo pants. Without a word he stood to my freezer and grabbed a bag of some random vegetable and draped it in my kitchen towel. "Hold this."

I wrapped my fingers around the cool mass and stared up at him, finally able to ask my apprehensive question. "What are you doing here?" He didn't just happen upon my garden. I lived at least twenty minutes outside of town.

He ignored the question and stepped against the back wall.

"O...kay then," I told the room unsurely.

How do you kick out a werewolf?

"Nate wanted to make sure you were safe," he finally answered.

"Safe?" I sucked in a breath and tried to process. What did he mean safe? Did he mean how werewolves were always so possessive? Was he now going to watch over me?

Werewolves and their dumb possessiveness. It was just a number.

"Well, thanks for the ice. I need to get back to my chores now."

"No," he answered, staring straight in front like a soldier at attention. "Keep that on your hand and sit."

I rolled my eyes and went to stand up. "It's fine. It's just a bee sting."

"Sit," he commanded stronger.

"Alright," I answered softly to his demand.

We stayed quiet and unmoving for a whole minute before I tried to speak again. "How long do I have to sit for? Isn't it silly to be still for just ice? I could go weed with my other hand."

"No."

I huffed and leaned my head down on my other arm across the table. "Can I at least play my phone or something?"

"Yes." He turned and grabbed my cell from its spot on the counter like he knew exactly where I had kept it and placed it in front of me. I breathed out annoyed and started playing my current favorite app.

A few minutes in he was still standing at attention. It was disconcerting. "You can play your phone too. Wifi password is Honeycake with a capitol H."

He didn't acknowledge the words.

"O...kay."

Fifteen minutes exact past when he just strode to the back bathroom and started digging around my closet. I followed his abrupt movements and soon he came back with a rope of gauze. "Enough ice. Wrapping now."

I held my ice out. "Wrapping? Are you sure? This is barely a pin prick. Maybe a band-aid would be better?"

"No." He set the veggies back in the freezer and started wrapping the gauze around my palm.

I complained again, pronouncing the words, "Adam, it's fine. It's a bee sting!"

He locked the edge of the bandage and stood again. "You can go now."

"Thank you," I breathed out exasperated.

He then strode away and opened the door, already half outside.

"Wait," I called. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"You can stick around."

Oh goodness, I was not right in the head if I needed company that badly.

"No. Keep that hand wrapped." And with that he closed the door and I watched through the side window as he marched to the tree line and disappeared.

Wolves. I shook my head in complaint and went back out to weed some more.

As noon approached, I wiped sweat from my cheeks and dumped the bucket of weeds to one of my goats. "Hey Miss Buttons. Good snack for today. Told you there was lots of purslane."

Was the wolf still guarding?

I turned to the woods and said in a conversational tone. "Hey Adam, it's getting hot out here. Want some lunch?" I grabbed some leaves from a lettuce plant and a bright tomato. "Sandwich?" I walked to the house with slow strides, checking over the trees. "Okay. Your loss."

I puttered around the kitchen making a sandwich all while talking as if Adam was sitting there. Yes. I did need company. "Do you want peanut butter? Yeah, you're right. Why get lettuce and tomato for peanut butter. That's crazy." I grabbed turkey slices and mayo from the fridge. I slowly made a single sandwich and my eyes kept darting to the window overlooking the trees, but I sat alone to eat.

After I played on my phone a bit and checked some social media apps, I started about the kitchen cleaning up lunch. I opened the door and scanned my surroundings. "Are you sure it wouldn't be easier to check in on me if you were in the same room?" I spoke with a twirl in my words, "air conditioning."

But still nothing. Maybe he really wasn't there? I mean the wolves can't just have someone in the trees watching a stupid girl all day. Right? He probably just ran by and heard my bee cry and Nate freaked at him through their mind link. I grinned and closed the door going back to do my daily cleaning about the house.

In another hour, I had the kitchen sanitized and ready for cake making. I put on my apron and tied up the blonde hair hanging around my face. "I'm making cake. It's about to smell really good in here. Sure you don't want that air conditioning?" I spoke to the nonexistent person.

As I pulled the pitcher of goat milk from the fridge a knock sounded from the door.

Standing there was Adam after all. I had started to think I just imagined him earlier, though the stupid full bandage at my hand confirmed he had been.

"I will stay inside." He nodded.

"So you were still there?" I stared at him and then opened the door wide, allowing him in.

"Yes. You talked like you knew." He walked in and stepped to the same far wall.

"I didn't know." I closed the door and walked to the kitchen. "Gets lonely out here with no neighbors. I just talk to myself sometimes." I grinned softly. "Or the goat."

No acknowledgment.

"Okay then."

I grabbed salt and baking powder and turned back to him. "You can sit in a chair. Or on the couch. You don't have to stand."

"I want to." He stared over my head.

"O...kay."

I grabbed the honey out of cabinet. "Did you want a sandwich? Or an apple or something?"

"No."

When all of the ingredients were out, I started unwrapping my hand to wash up.

"Stop," he commanded, coming over and halting my hands in his.

"Adam. It's been hours, the sting is fine. I need to wash my hands to prepare food." I stared up into his superiorly blue eyes.

"No. It's been hurting you all day. Every time you touch it you gasp."

"No I don't," I contradicted with a ridiculous face.

"Yes, you do." He started wrapping it back up.

Okay, so maybe it still stung a bit. I tried to think back to working about the house. Did I really keep getting it hurt? Probably. "It'll be fine."

"You are lying."

"Fine," I spoke a bit harshly and reached in a baseboard cabinet. I brought out food service gloves and fought them until they were over the gauzy bundle. "Happy?"

He nodded and headed back to his corner.

I snorted and stared at his rigid form. "Are you really going to stand there the whole time?"

"Yes."

"You'll get sore standing for so long."

He finally shifted his eyes to me with a slight twinkle in them, reciprocating my own words. "It'll be fine."

I paused as his words sunk in then snickered. "Alright. You win." It felt like the first emotion I'd gotten from him.

I began to go through the motions of making the diner cakes. I started the butter, sugar, and honey turning in the industrial mixer at the side of the kitchen and preheated the double oven on the wall. The new appliances felt like such an eyesore for the old house, but I wasn't making four cakes every day by hand in a single oven.

I let that mixture cream while I started cracking eggs, again and again, into another bowl.

"Want a drink? Water, coke, goat's milk?"

His eyes trailed to me speaking with incredulity. "Goat milk?"

Good. Finally got a rise out of him.

I grinned. "Yeah, farm fresh. It's okay cold. Want to try some?"

"No."

"Have you ever had it? You should try it. I'm sure your mother always told you to try new foods."

"Miss Winters?"

Heat flooded my stomach like a punch to my gut. He knew my last name? "Yes?"

"Go back to talking to your goat instead."

I couldn't help it. I giggled.

And it was the first time I saw a half smile break his face.

"Alrighty. Buttons it is."

After a peek, the honey looked mixed well enough, so I poured in the eggs few by few. I chatted to the goat for a minute as I mixed in the eggs and got the dry flour mixture prepared but got bored and went back to silence. When everything looked ready to go and the ovens were well enough preheated, I grabbed a bottle from the cabinet above the fridge. I uncorked it and almost started pouring, when I was startled by Adam's voice cutting through the quiet minutes.

"What's that?"

"What? Oh, this?" I stared at the wine looking bottle in my hand. Just a plain glass bottle with a deep coffee colored liquid inside, long string beans dancing within. "Uh, just vanilla."

He came from his wall, arm outstretched. I handed the bottle to him and he inhaled the scent, gasping. I smirked, thinking the alcohol scent must be too strong for his wolf senses. Smells good and vanilla-y to me. He took a deep breath over the bottle again.

"Yeah, I make it. Just vanilla beans and vodka. Steep for six months." I reached to open the cabinet above the fridge again to a dozen similar bottles, all dated. "See? I have to keep a large supply ready. A baker goes through lots of precious vanilla."

He handed the bottle back, seemingly satisfied and stepped back to his wall.

I shook the bottle to get all the little vanilla flecks suspended in the liquid and then poured out a good helping into the mixer. Letting that mix, I closed the vanilla cork and dabbed around the excess drops. Then I put the bottle back and prepared the pans.

Sometime later the pans were in the oven and the first round of dishes were cleaned. Adam still hadn't spoken to any of my goat comments, so I just continued on to the frosting.

The shrill voice of the timer sang into the air and I pulled the pans out to cool.

I finished about the last of the icing preparations over an hour before I needed to get ready for work. I began setting cake boxes together and clipped the corner with my stung palm. I did yelp. I brought the gauzy mass up to my face. Maybe Adam was right. Had I been squeaking every time I touched it?

I didn't realize.

It did still hurt though, but that was what always happened when I had bee stings. You can't expect to not get stung sometimes when you are a beekeeper. I imagined the purple lines that come when I get stung and decided I would not let Adam see how a bee sting looks on me after a few hours. I glanced over to him to see if he noticed my yelp, but he was straight faced as always.

When the cakes were cool enough to frost, I put on new gloves over the stupid mass and then grabbed a spoon. "Want a taste test?" I spun the spoon through the delicate icing.

"No."

"Really?" I asked in surprise. Thought that would have surely got him. No strong man frosting for you. "Okay then." And I stuffed the spoon in my own mouth. Mmm... Still loved it. So silky smooth and just the perfect amount of sweetness. I put the spoon in the sink and then began the fun part, swirling the gentle pinkness over the fluffy crumbs. I got lost in the work and even forgot to talk to the goat. Frosting the cakes was my favorite part. The sweet flow over the top, rippling just the right way. The swoops gliding into enticing swirls. It was my happiness.

Soon enough the cakes were all boxed up and I placed the last dated 'Elise's Honeycake' sticker on top.

"That's it?" Adam was watching me now.

I looked up to his form, finally understanding. "Oh, I see." I chuckled and asked with a knowing smirk. "Adam?"

His head tilted in answer.

"You're only here to learn my secret recipe, aren't you?" His eyes moved back forward, and I laughed. "I get it. Nate just wants to know what's in the cake. That's it, right?" When he didn't move, I turned into the living room and rummaged through one of the cabinets, pulling an old sheet of paper out. I walked up to Adam and handed it to him. "It's my cake recipe. It's from my grandmother. You could have just asked. You wouldn't have had to stand here the entire day."

He softened and grabbed the sheet. He looked over the recipe, and I watched his eyes roam the page.

I shrugged. "It's just vanilla cake. Don't know what you're expecting." But I did. I read the unasked question in his eyes. Why does it do what it does to wolves?

His expression blanked out a few seconds as he stared across the kitchen, probably mind linking, and then came back to me. "I should go."

I fake pouted. "You're not even going to help me load the car?"

"No. Goodbye Miss Winters."

"Bye."

And with no more words he strode out the door.