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C.Grizwold: You have me so fucking worked up I’m going to need a cold shower and a shot of whiskey before I can go to bed.
Me: hahaha...I can categorically say the same thing about you. Sorry that I now have you living up to your original username.
C.Grizwold: LOL. Blue Balls for sure right now, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself.
Me: And I’ll do the same all while thinking about you.
C.Grizwold: Your perfect little tits and your filthy mouth will be the center of all my fantasies. I’m going to sign off now but have a great night.
Me: You too. Chat tomorrow?
C.Grizwold: Absolutely.
I fall back against the chair, slumping down as my head falls back and a small laugh escapes my lips. This is not how I thought my evening would go down, especially after spending part of my evening getting to know Tommy a little better.
It’s all very weird because I’m finding myself drawn to him too. Seeing him shirtless and sweaty, his perfectly defined abs on display and with him not being such a crab, I actually enjoyed working on the bee houses with him.
But now here I am obsessing over C.Grizwold and his online persona. I’m torn on what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t be interested in Tommy. We work together and he’s never once expressed interest in me and maybe that’s the problem. I gravitate toward those hard-to-get guys, needing to make them want me. It’s always failed me. And now I have this awesome guy online who is into me and isn’t playing hard to get. No games, no bullshit, just conversation and flirting and legitimate interest and I’m struggling.
I guess all it took was for me to be single and announcing I’m swearing off men to find two I’m actually enjoying spending time with. I’m not even certain Tommy is an option. I think it’s probably more about his aloofness and disinterest I’m attracted to. At least with C.Grizwold it feels like we could have a real connection.
But when I close my eyes, all I see is Tommy’s well-defined arms, building the bee houses, sweat sliding in rivulets down his flat stomach. I guess I’m the visual one.
I’m up with the sun and smiling. I feel totally different than when I’m shackled in a shitty relationship with an asshole guy. I’m even more excited about heading into work today. After my late-night fantasies died down, I found myself wondering about the bees and how they’re doing.
I’m intrigued by how this will all work out, and if it really will. It would be nice to force all the bees away from the orchard and into their own little space. It will allow for people to walk through the area without worrying about being stung and it will allow us to make our own honey.
The honey part came during my bedtime searching as I tried to learn a little more about beekeeping. It was also a good way to get my mind off the super sexy convo I had with C.Grizwold so I could fall asleep a little less worked up.
I head right over to where Tommy set everything up yesterday, dragging a small fiberglass pond and pump system behind me. It’s been stored in one of the sheds since I started working here after it was removed from the front entrance. There were a few comical stories about Olivia and Oscar swimming in it and once it even attracted a wayward black bear cub. That was when it was removed and the bear was reunited with its mama.
It’s going to make the perfect place for the bees to get a drink. Water is extremely important for keeping the hive cool, especially during the hot summers here in Napa. Plus, it also keeps the bees from having to fly too far to find it. They tend to make their way to the lake and since that’s usually a place where guests like to walk around, this will keep them away and keep them from stinging people.
The only trouble with the pond is, I have no idea if I can dig a hole deep enough to fit this damn thing in there. I drop the pond and the pump on the other side of the fence and walk back to one of the sheds where the landscaping and gardening tools are kept. Even though I’m not sure finding a shovel will help me dig the hole I need for this pond, but I’m willing to give it a shot.
When the shovel connects with the ground, not a damn thing happens other than force reverberating back up the shaft and rattling through my body. I push the point down toward the ground and this time, with my feet planted on the blade of the shovel, I jump.
It literally moves about an inch into the ground making me laugh out loud at how I’m not really as tough as I like to think. I continue with this same method, the ground dry as hell, but I finally start to make some progress. I’m dripping sweat, and my hands are starting to form a few blisters, and I’m almost certain I could give the groundskeeper guys a run for their money in terms of smelling like B.O. but I’m damn proud of myself.
I swipe my hand across my face, pushing the sweat away and trying to keep my hair back when I catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye. I look up and find Tommy watching me, a cheeky smile on his face.
“What?” I call, dropping the shovel and throwing my hands up. “How long have you been watching me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t watching you. I was watching the hilarity unfold as all one hundred pounds of you tried to dig a hole,” he calls back, as he starts to walk toward me.
“I’m not doing that bad. And besides, I was trying to help your bees,” I respond, indignant and bothered already.
“I’m just giving you shit, Pen,” he says, smiling at me as he hops the fence. “I’ll grab another shovel and help you.”
“I read that bees need a water source to keep the hive cool and if we provide it for them then they won’t have to go far to find one,” I say, responding like I’m some expert now because I spent last night reading a website on beekeeping basics.
“I read that too and was thinking of a way we could get something out here to keep them away from the lake. I also ordered us those beekeeping hats and one of those smoke puffing cans.”
The way he talks to me, using words like we and us, as if he’s now made this something we’ll always do together, makes me feel excited about the prospect of not only working on this, but getting to spend time together too.
“Look at you. You’re like all in.”
“You all in too?”
