Antiques & Honey Bees: Buck's Landing, #2

By Chloe Zane and Jules Monroe

Starting over is hard, but honey soothes all wounds.

A catastrophic loss to Remy's bee business has him scrambling to make up the monetary shortfall. He's got a few old pieces of furniture he can sell, but he wasn't expecting angel-faced Stephan to show up as the buyer.

Nervous enthusiasm meet grumpy bear.

When Stephan's vehicle breaks down, can these two polar opposites survive being stuck together during a heavy storm? Or will their growing desires prove to be a temptation too sticky to ignore?

Antiques and Honey Bees will be a light, fluffy, and fun novel with one skittish, out-of-work man, a very grumpy bear shifter and a preponderance of bees. Each book in the Buck's Landing series contains intimate scenes fitting for the characters. While there are recurring characters and themes, these novels can be enjoyed in any order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Zane
• Release date: May 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201933784

Book preview

1

STEPHAN

Moving back home wasn’t without its own set of issues.

Stephan Holmes’ ego had already taken a beating at being let go from a company with no warning. Sure, he got unemployment. It certainly helped with expenses. Living in New York wasn’t exactly cheap, although living with a roommate eased the financial strain.

Until that didn’t work anymore and now he was back home in Buck’s Landing, getting ready to crash on his grandmother.

Talk about a reduction of circumstances.

It’s going to be a tight squeeze, his grandmother said.

She was talking to someone downstairs in her shop. Stephan finished the breakfast dishes and set the towel aside. Gran? he called out.

There was a thump and some creative cursing.

Language, boys, she said.

Sorry, Miss Alma, one of the men said.

Where is this going? another asked.

Stephan liked the sound of his voice. It was deep and rumbly, like a bass drum. It vibrated through his body, settling into his hips in a pleasant tingle.

Okay, he did not need to spring a boner over some rando’s voice. What if he was ugly? That would take sporting a boner to a whole new level of awkward.

Stephan, honey? his grandmother called up to the second floor.

Yes, ma’am? Stephan stopped at the landing to see two burly dudes struggling up the narrow stairs leading from her shop to the second level and her apartment. They were having a difficult time getting up the steep angle of stairs.

Put your mattress in the hall so they can move this furniture in your room, please?

Yes, ma’am.

They’d talked about this when he first got there. He had only intended to stay a few days, content to sleep on her couch. The very next day, she had a mattress delivered.

Now, he guessed furniture, too.

From the way they struggled to get the piece of furniture, he was guessing a bureau, up the stairs, he had some time to grab the blankets and sheet from the mattress and shove them into the closet.

He decided leaving the mattress in the hall would get in their way, so he dragged it into his grandmother’s room.

By the time he finished, the first of the men backed up the stairs to the second-floor landing.

Stephan took that opportunity to appreciate how big the guy was. His shoulders were ax handle width, as his grandmother would say. His t-shirt wasn’t skin tight but the man’s body did test the boundaries of filling it out.

Those muscles shifted as the man turned. Stephan was left staring into eyes so brown it was like he was drowning in melted chocolate. Those gorgeous eyes were framed by unfortunate black framed nerd glasses.

The rest of him was impressive.

What’s the hold up? the other man said.

Sorry, the man with the deep voice and very sexy gaze said. His bass voice vibrated through him. Stephan nearly went into ecstatic overload. Someone’s in the way.

Oh. He meant Stephan. He gave the man a shy smile and moved so they could make the turn into the living room.

Where’s this going?

Um…another flight of stairs, actually. I’m assuming that’s for me, he said quickly.

You Miss Alma’s grandson?

Um…yes.

Then it’s for you.

What is the fu…dam…Remy, come on! This thing is heavy.

So, his name was Remy. With that name, the glasses could work.

Stephan didn’t know why it was so fascinating to watch two men wrestle with furniture. Maybe it was something primal. Men doing physical work was a fascination and a bit of a turn on. He liked physical men.

The second man to emerge up the stairs was only slightly smaller than Remy. He was still a big guy. Not bad looking, with blond hair and an easy smile. Not like Mr. Tall and Muscley with his fuzzy brown hair, though.

Hey, the guy said. You’re Stephan, right?

Yeah.

Cool. I’m Kyle, he said with a smile. The big guy up front who never introduces himself is Remy.

Yeah, Stephan figured that out. The name, and the man was going to be hard to forget.

Nice to meet you. Next flight up, third door on the left. Stairs should be easier this time. The stairwell is wider. Stephan started up the stairs to show them the way.

They made faster progress to the third floor. Stephan pointed to the guest bedroom. Gently, they set it on the floor.

Where’s this going? Kyle asked.

Against the outer wall. It’s the only place it will fit once the bed frame is set up. Stephan stepped into the room and motioned to where the frame would go.

Cool. That’s coming next. This monstrosity was the heaviest. Not sure why Remy had to make it so heavy, Kyle said as he and Remy positioned it against the wall. Make sure this is where you want it. Once the shelves go in, it’s going to be a heavy motherfuk—

Kyle Brandt! Stephan’s grandmother said from the doorway to Stephan’s room.

Sorry, Miss Alma. Language gets away from me.

She gave him a warning look before she let it go. Come get some water before you bring the next pieces up.

They followed her back down the stairs to the kitchen. Stephan stood in the bedroom for a moment to get a better look at the bureau. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, well crafted, and after giving it a rock, he could tell that it was quite substantial. It wasn’t cheap. Stephan could see the dove-tail joints holding it together.

Not that he was an expert on handcrafted furniture, but his mother and grandmother were both amateur experts on antiques. Along the way, Stephan picked up some information on furniture.

He ran his hand along the top surface. It had been sanded and stained expertly. His fingers picked up delicate scrollwork carved along the edges of the top. If he had to guess, and if this Remy were a dedicated craftsman, the front of the drawers would pick up the pattern.

The man who made this beautiful bureau was in the kitchen wearing dark rimmed glasses and a snug t-shirt. Maybe Stephan needed to stop fondling his bureau and go downstairs to be a bit more sociable.

Laughter from the kitchen drew Stephan’s attention as he headed downstairs. He paused at the door. They all stood around the table, and Kyle and his grandmother were laughing about something. Remy stood, stoic, his face showing nothing- no mirth, or grudging tolerance- as they bantered back and forth.

He looked for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere else.

Remy must have sensed Stephan was looking at him and met his gaze. He blinked slowly, again, with no show of emotion one way or another.

Stephan smiled at him and Remy nodded.

Was it a polite nod? A dismissive nod? What kind of nod was it?

Had Stephan said something to cause the guy to close down like this? What the heck?

Remy drained his glass, rinsed it, and put it in the sink. He slapped the back of Kyle’s shoulder, interrupting him. Let’s go.

Sure. Kyle drained his water, then put it in the sink as well. Head and footboard next?

Remy grunted on his way out of the kitchen. Stephan flattened against the doorjamb to make room and still their bodies brushed against each other.

Stephan bit down on his bottom lip, stifling the sharp gasp from the electric snap jolting through his limbs. With a jerk, Remy’s head snapped around and regarded Stephan for a moment. The intensity of his gaze bore down into Stephan’s soul.

The only thing Remy gave away was a slight widening of his eyes before he furrowed his brows again and headed back down the stairs.

Don’t let him get to you, Kyle said. He’s shy.

Stephan wouldn’t say shy. A little brusk, maybe.

Or a lot.

The view from the back made up for it. Remy knew how to fill out a pair of jeans.

Getting the head and footboard along with the rails and the slats up to Stephan’s room wasn’t quite the production of the bureau.

Want us to assemble it? Kyle asked.

I can do it. Stephan said. How hard could it be? I don’t want to be any trouble.

We got it, Remy grumbled. It’ll be faster.

Miss Alma, do you have a hammer?

His grandmother produced a hammer with a smile. I figured you’d need it.

You’re the best, Kyle said with a wink.

Remy grumbled irritably. Can we do this?

While Remy and Kyle worked at the head of the bed to get the rail seated, Stephan held up the other end to make assembly easier. Remy moved to where Stephan stood and slid his hand down the rail.

Their hands brushed. The same electric jolt that shot through Stephan’s body the last time they touched was back again.

This time, he heard Remy gasp and their eyes met for a brief moment. This time there was no annoyance, or even a blank stare. Stephan was sure he saw confusion.

Then Remy’s shields went up and his expression smoothed out to indifference. I got it, he said softly to Stephan.

Sure. Stephan stepped back.

He’d dated guys before, and he’d gotten caught in the lust-at-first-sight which led him into making monumentally bad man decisions.

None of those other guys sent this degree of thrill through his body.

Not a one.

In the middle of getting the second rail, Remy’s cell rang. With an annoyed grimace, he glanced at his phone and grunted. I gotta take this. You got it?

Stephan didn’t know who he was talking to, but Kyle answered with a short nod of his head. Hold the headboard still, he directed Stephan.

The second rail went much smoother than the first one. Stephan’s grandmother positioned the slats evenly along the rails. Is this the final place for the bed? Kyle asked.

Yeah. We may need to move the bureau down a little so I can get the drawers open.

Kyle glanced at where it was positioned. You’re right. We can move it closer to the closet and not block the doors from folding open.

Together, they wrestled the bureau into place. That is heavy, Stephan said. It’s definitely not IKEA.

Don’t let Remy hear you say that. He takes great pride in his work.

This is professional quality, Stephan said, smoothing his hand over the top of the bureau again.

Woodworking is a hobby of his. He’s top notch but says he doesn’t want to do it for a living. Which is a shame because he could make some serious money at it, Kyle said. He ducked out of the room to grab Stephan’s mattress.

Kyle didn’t need two people to slide it across the hall, so Stephan stayed out of the way.

In a way, touching the bureau was a way to touch Remy. Did it mean once they got the mattress in place, he would be sleeping in Remy’s bed?

His face flushed with heat at the thought. Stephan, honey, are you okay? his grandmother asked with concern.

Yeah, he said, more embarrassed now, which only made him grow redder. Having light blond hair and extremely fair skin, Stephan was cursed with every blush turning into a full body furnace. It’s a little close in here.

To give himself something to do, he opened the window to let cooler air in.

Once Kyle had the mattress in Stephan’s room, they both wrestled it to rest on the wooden slats.

Stephan had a proper bed.

I got to go, Remy said from the doorway. He waved his phone. Emergency.

Everything okay? Kyle asked.

Remy’s face was pale. No.

Okay, I can come back later to finish up, Kyle said, digging in his pocket for his keys.

Remy waved him off. Finish up here. I’ll call later.

It was nice to meet— but Remy was gone before Stephan could finish. If it didn’t appear like it was an emergency, Stephan might actually be offended.

No. He was offended. But he would try not to let it get to him.

Kyle nudged Stephan with an elbow, and he chuckled. Don’t take it personally. It’s Remy, he’s like that. Something is really wrong. He’s upset.

It was hard to tell, other than the paleness he exhibited. But Kyle knew him, and Stephan didn’t, so he would definitely shrug it off. What’s left?

Drawers, but like their parent, Kyle tilted his head to the bureau, they’re heavy as fu—

Kyle!

2

REMY

When Remy pulled up next to Cal Johnson, he knew something wasn’t right. He threw himself out of his truck and stopped a few feet short of the carnage.

They were dead. Thousands of tiny bodies littered the ground in a...Remy didn’t have the words.

I called you as soon as I saw, Cal said. When Delores saw the mosquito sprayer pass the front yard, she knew that wasn’t a good sign. She called me at work. I got here as soon as I could, but the damage had been done.

Remy controlled the low growl growing in his throat. Last thing he wanted to do was put Cal on edge.

Being a bear shifter was one of those ‘elephant in the room’ issues.

He wasn’t sure where Cal stood on the issue, and he didn’t want to push his luck. Not right now.

Regardless, this pushed Remy to his limits. A range of emotions swamped him- anger, loss, grief.

Ten hives were gone. Tens of thousands of bees. Poisoned by the vile machine the county deployed to kill mosquitoes.

What was particularly enraging was that Remy had gone specifically to the county supervisor to make sure the trucks didn’t pass Cal Johnson’s fields. She had assured him the trucks didn’t come this far outside of the city limits.

Well, that was a damned lie. Now he had a catastrophic loss to prove it.

Remy took off his hat and slumped back against his truck.

What do you need to do? Cal asked.

Remy ran his hand through his shaggy hair. Don’t have the hives to replace them right now. It’ll take time for the bee hatchery to get me new bees.

Nor did he have the money. He had just put in the order for a new extractor in anticipation of the honey he’d get from these hives specifically. It wiped out his financial buffer on a business already operating on a thin margin.

Well, I still want you to keep your bees on the field to pollinate, like we agreed. So, you let me know when you can get new ones here.

Can I leave the hives here for the moment?

Sure thing. Whatever you need to do.

Yeah. Remy looked at this catastrophic loss as Cal mumbled another sympathetic platitude, thumped him affectionately on the shoulder, then climbed into his truck and left.

Remy could not afford this to happen right now. He was trying to get his bee business off the ground. Now, not only had he lost his hives, but he also couldn’t sell the honey they produced.

The monetary loss was a definite blow.

But it was the environmental impact that was worse.

The loss of life, devastating.

His bees were dead. They depended on him to keep them out of harm’s way, and he let them down.

The vibration of his phone snapped him out of his emotional dive. He checked the caller ID before answering it.

Kyle

Hey, Remy said gruffly into his phone.

I wasn’t expecting you to answer. Everything okay? You left in a hurry. I think you hurt Miss Alma’s grandson.

Remy sighed heavily and turned away from the devastating scene. County sprayed out here.

Cal Johnson’s field? You had half your bees out there.

Yeah.

Kyle was silent for a moment. Shit. Did you lose many?

All of them.

Damn, Remy. That’s... he clucked sorrowfully. Kyle wasn’t a fan of his bees, not many people were, but he was a true-blue friend. What did Cal say?

He still wants to rent hives from me. I’m not sure it’s possible. Replacing the ones I lost is going to take time.

Can you, maybe, move a hive or two from your place until you get more?

It’s my only option. I may end up taking a hit on the honey, too.

Need help making the swap? I’m off this weekend.

Nah. I got it.

I don’t mind helping.

Appreciate it, but I can handle it.

Look, I finished up at Miss Alma’s. Meet me at The Emerald Club and we’ll figure this out.

Remy sighed. Thanks.

He hung up the phone and stood staring at the carnage wrought by the mosquito sprayer.

Well, there was nothing for it now. The damage was done.

His bees were dead.

Why did he stupidly believe the words of a bureaucrat?

He pulled on