Page 133 of The Beekeeper

“Before you, I was living in my own personal thunderstorm. Jumping at every boom, suspicious of every shadow, and huddling deeper and deeper into my own hollow shell, thinking it was the only way to protect myself and my daughter. And then…there was you. The woman who baked magical cakes with thunder and rainwater. I saw how you changed my daughter’s fear of thunderstorms, and didn’t even realize how much you’d changed my own.”

My voice grew hoarser as I spoke. Funny how I’d recited all kinds of lines, including romantic confessions before, but when it came to one that was mine, one that was real, I felt a kind of nerves I’d never experienced before. Especially when Harper couldn’t blink back her tears anymore and they started to course down her cheeks.

“I know we had a contract,” I continued, clearing my throat. “But my lawyer says it definitely won’t hold up in court.”

She cupped her hand over her mouth, a watery laugh escaping.

I held her other hand a little tighter and then reached up with my free hand, closing my fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand from her mouth to mine.

“What I want with you isn’t temporary, Harper. What I feel for you isn’t temporary,” I murmured, breathing in the scent of her skin. “I love you, my little queen. I love your obsession with bees. I love your dedication to your craft and to the people you care about. I love your honesty and your compassion. I love how your face can’t hide a damn thing that you’re thinking or feeling. And I love how you are the reason Paisley and I felt like we had a home. Our own little hive.”

I turned my face slightly, pressing my lips to the center of her palm, knowing I was coming to that make-or-break-it precipice where I was either going to get to love her or she’d ask me to leave.

“I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to go another day without you in my life—our lives. I don’t want to go another moment pretending that I’m not completely in love with you. I made a mistake by leaving, Harper. Will you let me spend the rest of my life fixing it?” I murmured the last and then truly felt the extent of my vulnerability in the following silence.

The seconds where her lips pulled apart and she drew a deep, steadying breath. The seconds her eyes roamed over my face, seeing all the shards of truth in my words.

“Can you…say it again?” Her whispered voice lit a fuse of hope.

I smiled against her hand. “I love you, my little queen.”

Like a key into a lock, Harper came out of the shock of everything—the interview, me being here, my confession—and the brightest smile blossomed on her face.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, sliding her hand around my neck and bringing my mouth down to hers.

Groaning, I kissed her deeply, our tongues colliding and melting into one another. It wasn’t just being apart from her these last two weeks that made me long for her. I longed for who I was when I was with her. I longed for the way I felt, the things I experienced when she was in my life. I longed for her the way I longed for oxygen—because without her, I wasn’t living.

I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight, not caring who was wandering around or how long we stood there. All I knew was after what it felt like to let her go, I never wanted to do it again.

Chapter 32

Harper

Time passed in a whirlwind after Blaze showed up at the glassblowing exposition. Even though Nox said he could handle the rest of the packing, I could tell he was too distracted by the TV show discussion to focus, so Blaze and I had stayed to help him finish. By the time we got back to Stonebar and Blaze pulled down the driveway to his new house, it was dark, and the reality of everything was finally starting to hit me.

I loved Blaze. He loved me. But now what?

My eyes bulged as the home rose up in front of us. It was massive and tucked away at the end of a wooded drive. Perfect for privacy and things like tree houses. Not so perfect for any kind of flower field or apiary.

It was okay, I reasoned. My hives could stay where they were. I could just drive over there like I was going to work.

“This is beautiful,” I said as he took my hand and walked us to the front door, almost like déjà vu from the video earlier.

Blaze said nothing as he opened the door. Part of me half-anticipated seeing Frankie on the other side, who’d scream ‘I told you so!’ as soon as she saw me. But she wasn’t there. The house was empty. Even of Paisley.

“Where’s Pais?” I wondered almost immediately when I didn’t see or hear her.

“Staying with my brother and Lou for the night,” he said, but it was when he looked back at me that I saw the real answer: he wanted us to have this night together.

“This…it’s really nice in here. The furniture…everything.” I bit into my bottom lip. It could become a home—become more home-y.

“Jamie and Violet helped me stage it with some furniture,” he explained, and then I realized some of the furniture had seemed familiar as I was watching the interview, but I’d been too focused on Blaze to think much on it. “They’re going to pick it up at the end of the week.”

My brow creased, and as he led me upstairs, I asked, “You aren’t going to keep it?”

He stayed silent as we followed the same path as the podcast, down the hall and into his bedroom.

My jaw went slack, seeing all the photos of me again. This time, in person, I could appreciate just how overwhelming the display was. Almost every inch of every wall was covered.