Page 33 of The Beekeeper

Lou faced me, her brow cinched with disbelief. “I can’t imagine that.”

“It was my fault, but I said some things…” I trailed off and speared my hand through my hair. “You know me, I’m always saying things I shouldn’t.”

“People say a lot of things when they’re in stressful situations. Out of the two of us, I think I’m the most guilty of that, right? I mean, I let everyone think we were dating while you were in a coma. Talk about a big mistake.”

I knew what she was trying to do, how she was trying to help, but it wasn’t the same.

“You were afraid Wade would sue you. I was angry, and meant for what I said to be harsh,” I rationalized the difference.

“But it was a mistake.”

“Yeah,” I said and sighed. “I wasn’t thinking, just reacting—assuming.”

“And you don’t think Harper is capable of realizing that or forgiving you for it?”

I grimaced. “I don’t know.”

“Harper has the biggest heart. The last thing she’d want is to fill it with resentment, especially for someone she’s living with.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to avoid someone you’re living with,” I grumbled.

“Is she avoiding you?” she looked at me and asked. The question was so simple—so obvious it bordered on stupid, until she followed it with, “Or is she just trying to give you what she thinks you want?”

My eyes narrowed. Shit. She was right. I’d basically accused Harper of abusing our living arrangement to get close to me, and now, here I was complaining about it.

Resting my hands on the counter, I let out a deep sigh and hung my head.

“Whatever it is, Blaze, she’ll forgive you,” Lou said and then quickly added, “Not because of who you are but because of who she is.”

So, Harper was going to forgive me because she was kind and not because she still harbored a secret crush on me. Point taken. Painfully.

That was the part of our conversation I tried the hardest to forget—the moment where she’d made it crystal clear the crush she had was dead and buried. It was that moment I’d wanted to reach for her the most. To take her by the neck and haul her mouth to mine, to punish those lips for lying to prove I knew the truth.

Except I didn’t know the truth. I knew what my fantasy wanted to believe.

Lou placed her hand on my shoulder, and I stiffened at the contact.

“And if an apology isn’t enough?”

“Enough for whom?”

Lou – 2. Blaze – 0.

“Thanks,” I said roughly.

“Give yourself some grace. It’s all going to work out.”

My jaw pulsed as she walked away.

“Fuck.” I blew out the word under my breath. I needed to make things right. I needed to do something appropriate to make up for what I’d said, but I’d already offered myself up as spokesman for her brand. I could do something—buy her something for the house, but I just knew she wouldn’t appreciate that the way she appreciated things for her business. There had to be something else I could do to help her image…

And then it hit me.

I pulled out my cell from my back pocket, wincing when I saw it was almost eight p.m., but then rationalizing that one, Marc owed me, and two, he was a fashion photographer in NYC, there was no way he was in bed yet.

I slowly crept down the steps, doing my best to mitigate the creaking so it wouldn’t wake Paisley. She seemed to be settling into her new room and going to sleep easier with every passing night, but I didn’t want to jinx it.

It was late. I probably should’ve waited until morning to search out Harper, but when we got back from Wade’s house, my conversation with Lou still fresh on my mind, I saw Max’s old truck loaded up with boxes of honey. If I were still a betting man, I’d say she planned on slipping out of the house at the ass-crack of dawn in order to avoid me, and I couldn’t let that happen.