“Okay, I’m ready,” Landon says.
I look at Scott. He nods. “Me too.”
“Okay, let’s suit up.”
We all reach for the sting-proof jumpsuits and start pulling them over our clothes. We’ve also got boots and helmets with veils on them to protect our faces and heads. They’ll zip onto the jumpsuits to keep any bees from sneaking inside.
I help both men with their zippers and then step back to inspect everything.
“Okay, gloves, and we’re ready to go.”
The rest of the operation goes smoothly enough. I use a smoker to gently encourage the lingering bees into the hive and then seal it. The drive to Sally’s is short and uneventful, as is moving the hive from my truck to the spot where Sally is letting the bees make their new home.
The entire thing takes less than an hour, including the setup of the extra box back at the park.
Landon takes off, leaving Scott and me alone.
“So a couple of days and the straggler bees should be rounded up?” Scott asks.
“Right. The queen is definitely with the hive, so getting them over there shouldn’t be hard. I don’t think they’ll be causing any trouble over here.”
Scott bends to take his boots off, and as I unzip my jumpsuit, he asks, “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”
I tense. We’ve been talking. About the project. About work. The safe things.
If he’s asking specifically to talk when it’s just the two of us, that means the topic is not casual.
Shit.
Did he notice something at the party this weekend? Did Peyton or Charlie say something?
Is it just guilt that makes my thoughts immediately jump to Mia and our sneaking around? It could be. I’ve got a lot of it.
I don’t like keeping this secret. Not only because it feels wrong to keep this from the people that we care about, but because I really want people to know that I am with her. Mia is amazing, and the fact that she wants to spend time with me is something I’m very proud of.
I straighten and face Scott. “Of course.”
He tosses the boots in the back of my truck.
“A few days ago, when I was talking to Mia and Peyton about this project, your name came up.”
I cross my arms, then uncross them, aware that’s a very defensive posture. “Okay.”
“I came home that day, the first day you showed up, frustrated. But not at you. At myself. As I’ve said, I realize I should’ve called you before this. But I didn’t because things have been tense between us for a long time. But Peyton and Mia got me talking about it. And, well, thinking about it ever since then.” He blows out a breath and rubs the back of his neck. “You came to me once and asked if I thought you should be a cop. I told you no.” He meets my gaze.
“Actually, you said I’d be a terrible cop.”
“Right.” He tucks his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I said it that way. I should’ve talked it out with you instead.”
To say I’m shocked by this would be an understatement. But I study him, going over his words before I ask, “So you’re sorry for the way you said it, but not what you said?”
Scott nods. “Yeah. I did not want you to be a cop. And I’m not sorry that I told you that. I always tried to be honest with you. But I think I could’ve said it differently.”
“You’re not sure?” I give a short chuckle. “You’re not sure that there was a better way of saying you would be a terrible cop?”
He looks a little sheepish. “I wanted you to hear me. You were a headstrong, rebellious young adult at that point. I guess I was afraid that if I wasn’t blunt, you might not hear me.”
“So you really did think I would be terrible, and you wanted to be sure I heard you say that.”
