Theyturned out to be a group of teens waiting for Dane’s attention. “What can I help you with?”
“Can we get a selfie with you?” one of the girls asked.
Another one giggled, then said, “You totally look like the guy that plays Thor.”
So I’ve heard.He smiled. It wasn’t the first selfie request he’d received, not that he was complaining. The more selfies of him in a Texas Viking Honey & Riverside Cabins shirt out there, the better. “How can I refuse?”
All four of them giggled, making Leif groan—the patience limit for any teenage boy long exceeded. “Are you buying honey?” Leif asked.
The third girl reached for a jar of honey. “I’m totally buying some.” She paused, smiling at Leif. “Which is your favorite?”
Dane watched his brother turn a dark shade of red. He waited, holding his breath, but Leif didn’t say a word. Instead, his brother reached for a jar of clover honey and handed it to the girl.
“I’ll take two of these.” The girl said, still smiling at Leif. “Please.”
Leif was staring, quiet and red-faced, at the girl. “’Kay.” He grabbed another jar and sat it on the table in front of her. The long, lingering staring session between the two became increasingly awkward for Dane and the girls waiting for their selfie. But Leif and the girl were completely clueless.
It was sort of cute.
But when a line started to form behind the girl, it lost all cuteness.
“Okay, so let’s take that picture,” Dane said, smiling up at the camera, making change for the girl still moony-eyed over Leif, then steering his brother aside so the teen-hormone-fueled staring thing could continue while Dane conducted business.
Now was the time to really promo the event space and build interest. These were the people who would drive an hour for a unique experience with loads of ambience. That was what he was selling—an experience. He’d been hammering out the details on potential partners and distributors. One was a honey mead and whiskey vendor. His glossy brochures invited guests to “Come drink like a Viking. Enjoy honey mead and whiskey in a Viking hall.” And, with luck and a substantial markup, people would buy a few bottles to take home.
As the sun moved across the sky, Dane handed out glossy pamphlets, sold honey and posed for far too many pictures.
“You should come dressed as Thor next time.” Leif sat in the lawn chair sideways, his long legs draped over the arm.
“Why?” Dane asked, counting the remaining jars as he packed them away for the drive back.
“Did you not hear them? All of them?” Leif rolled his eyes. “How you look like Thor?”
“Does he?” The question and the voice were full of familiar disdain. “I don’t see it.”
Dane turned to Tansy Hill. “You here for a selfie?”
“I came to return yourtrash.” She held out a stack of brochures. “Drink like a Viking?” She winced. “Really?”
Leif chuckled.
“I work with what I’ve got.” He crossed his arms over his chest—noting her reaction as he did. She noticed. A lot.Interesting. Those mossy-green eyes of hers were currently glued to his torso.
And even more interesting? That she had no pithy comeback. Nope. Not a word.
“You feeling okay?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“I’m fine.” She smoothed the wisps of hair sliding free of her ponytail as her gaze fell from his chest to the pamphlets in her hand. “Why?” There it was. The fight, sparking in her eyes.
“You just seem a little...dazed. Staring like that.” He smiled. “Distracted?”
“What? No. I wasn’t staring.” The words were rushed, almost alarmed. She swallowed, hard, her gaze falling to the box he was packing. “You have honey left?”
“Just a few bottles.” He smiled.
“Mighty Thor didn’t sell out?” She laughed. “See what I did there? The double entendre?”
“Genius.” He chuckled.
