Page 9 of The Beekeeper

“They’ll give up eventually. They did at the inn.”

When the paparazzi found out Blaze was in Maine before, they’d camped outside the Lamplight Inn when the (fake) news had broken that Lou was his new girlfriend. But after a few weeks, and the truth, it had all died down.

“At the inn, it was only me they were hurting.” His stare was locked on Paisley and my chest panged. “Now, every time I don’t give them anything, it gets worse. The longer the lawsuit goes on, it gets worse.”

I fought to swallow, unable to imagine what he was going through. I only knew the barebones facts about what brought Blaze and Paisley to Maine; Paisley’s aunt was petitioning for guardianship, claiming Blaze wasn’t fit to raise her because of his profession and his past.

“Can Wade do something?” I asked softly, this conversation treading softly closer to the kind of honest midnight confessions we’d shared back when he’d stayed at the Lamplight Inn—back before he quasi-hated me and fully-distrusted me.

“He got the file impounded and a non-disclosure order on both parties, but it doesn’t touch the press. Angela can send them as many anonymous tips as she wants; I’ll never have proof it was her.”

No matter how hard he tried to stay out of the spotlight, every other day I saw some article or post on social media rehashing some fling, run-in with the law, rehab announcement, or drugged-out party boy moment in Blaze’s past. They didn’t care that Blaze had turned his life upside down and around to be a better man and a good dad to his daughter. No one was allowed to see that, to see how far he’d come when all the media wanted to focus on was who he’d been.

“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” I said honestly, my words unguarded for a moment. “And all under the guise of wanting what’s best for Paisley.” I shook my head. “Could you just…offer her money?” My stomach rolled at the idea, but if it meant avoiding all this.

“I tried.” With the tone of two words, he told me he’d offered her a lot of money. “She wants her two minutes in the spotlight as the savior of Blaze Stevens’s daughter.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck, a tic of frustration that made me wonder just how much responsibility those wide shoulders of his could support.

“I’m sorry.”

He winced, and the slight movement rippled the air around us, changing everything. The invisible bridge between us, as fragile as a thread, snapped.

“Yeah.” His chin lowered and he walked away then, calling, “Hey, Pais.”

She turned and instantly sprinted in his direction, catching him before he got very far. My heart squeezed when she wrapped her arms around his legs and looked up.

“Daddy, I want to do my animal project on bees,” she exclaimed and my heart tripped.

“Bees? Ahh…are you sure?”

“Yes!” she insisted, tugging on his shirt and pulling it even tighter over his sculpted shoulders. “Then I can come here and Harper can help me.”

Blaze stiffened but he wouldn’t look away from his daughter. “Pais…”

“You’ll teach me, right, Harper? For my project? I have to learn about an animal.”

“I…” I gulped. I didn’t know what to say—how to answer when I wanted to help but it was obvious Blaze wanted me to refuse.

“Please?” Her lip quivered, and I broke.

“Of course,” I gushed. “I’d be happy to teach you about honeybees.”

“See, Daddy, Harper will help.” She beamed with her holey smile.

Slowly, my eyes hazarded to Blaze, his glare brimming with another powerful emotion I couldn’t decipher.

“It’s a kindergarten science project. I’m sure it won’t take much of your time.”

Translation: my help was on borrowed time.

Like a scolded child, I lowered my head. “Of course,” I said softly. “I don’t mind at all. The bees and I are happy to have company.”

The muscle in his jaw flexed but as soon as he looked back to Paisley, all strain was wiped from his expression and he smiled down at her.

“Are you ready to go, pumpkin?”

She folded her arms over herself. “But the camera monsters…”

Blaze bent and gently pushed her hair back from her face. “Do you remember what I told you gets rid of the camera monsters?” he asked softly, almost like he didn’t want me to witness his tenderness, and I felt my chest cave in on itself, suddenly an outsider in my own sanctuary.