Page 76 of Must Love Bees
“That’s understandable.” Her smile was gentle. And beautiful. As always. Her hair was a tangle of braids and her bee suit was streaked with who-knows-what, but her eyes were full of life. When she looked at him, he wanted to see the world through those eyes.
“You’re beautiful, Astrid.” His voice was husky. “You’re a beautiful person.” He reached up to cradle her face between his hands.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for two days so I really hope you’re going to kiss me.”
He’d just had a panic attack and now she was making him smile? “You could always kiss me—”
“Okay.” Her mouth brushed his, light as a feather. Then again, firmer and longer. Her breath wavered and, finally, her lips sealed with his.
He wanted to get lost in her. Wanted to feel... And, with Astrid, there was no shortage of feeling. He smiled at the sound of tape ripping free and opened his eyes to find her unzipping her suit.
“It’s hot.” She shoved the suit around her waist. The black fabric of the tank top she wore was painted on her, one of the straps hanging off her bare shoulder.
He stared at her shoulder. Then the strap. Then her shoulder. Slowly, he rested his hand there and ran his thumb along the ridge of her collarbone. Her skin, like the rest of her, was soft and warm. She shivered, the slight hitch of her breath drawing his eyes back to hers.
The doorbell rang.
“Was that a doorbell?” He frowned. “I didn’t know this house had a doorbell.”
Astrid laughed. “That’s because the only visitor you have is rude and makes herself at home.” She stepped back, twisting her hair into a knot at the back of her head.
Why had he ever resisted her visits? He didn’t know then what he knew now. Astrid was... What? He swallowed. What was she to him?
“Are you expecting someone?” She pulled the strap onto her shoulder but it slid back down.
He shook his head, far too distracted by that damn strap and her shoulder. He wasn’t done exploring. Then he remembered. “Yes.” He stood. “Walsh Brothers Air-Conditioning.”
“That’s fantastic.” She pulled her suit back up but left the zipper open. “I’ll leave you to it. Tansy’s probably wondering where I am, anyway.” She paused. “Or, I can stay?”
She didn’t outright say it, but she was asking if he needed her to stay. As tempting as it was to say yes, he shook his head. “Go, see your bees.” But he stopped her when she reached the front door. “Astrid.”
She turned and waited, her gaze searching his.
He cleared his throat, words rushing up to stick and clog his windpipe. He only managed to say, “I’m sorry, for earlier. And thank you.”
“I don’t know why you’re apologizing or what I did but... I’m here, Charlie.” Her smile was radiant. And, with a little wave, she opened the door for the Walsh brothers and let herself out.
Once the Walsh brothers were pulling apart the air-conditioning unit, Charlie went upstairs to take an ice-cold shower. The panic attack was over but his brain was still recovering. There were a few things he was going to have to deal with. One, his sister was coming. Other than the reading of the will, there was no need for them to interact. He’d make sure they didn’t. Two, was going back to their old life what he wanted—or was he second-guessing things because of Astrid? When and why had she become relevant to his decision-making process?
It had taken him years to learn how to navigate life alone. He’d been good at it. Now he had Halley and Nova and he was struggling. But they were his, nonnegotiable. Did he really want to bring anyone else into their lives? Could he relinquish what little control he had left? That’s what would happen if he let Astrid in. Chaos. She was the opposite of control. She was... She... He closed his eyes. She’d been there to steady him when he’d been free-falling. Her heartbeat. Her touch. Her scent. Letting her in worried him. But, letting her go? That was truly terrifying.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ASTRIDWHISKEDTHEmelted chocolate into the butter and sugar but her mind was elsewhere. She’d replayed the morning over and over, looking for something that might explain what had happened. Charlie. Her chest hurt. Finding him in the dining room—gasping for breath, shaking and clinging to the table—she had panicked. Her first thought was he’d been stung and was having an allergic reaction. But once the suit hood was off and she could see his beautiful face, she knew it was something else. There’d been no trace of the controlled and emotionless mask Charlie wore so often. There’d been anguish. Bone-deep and all-encompassing. It had ripped her heart wide-open.
Even hours later, she could still feel the desperation of his touch. He’d held her against him with such ferocity she’d been stunned into silence. What did he need? What could she do?
He’d admitted he liked her touch, so slow, soothing caresses made sense. The inane chatter was to distract him from whatever internal torment he was battling. She had no idea what she’d said—that part wasn’t important. What mattered was that, in time, his shaking stopped and his desperation eased.
“Don’t forget the eggs.” Aunt Camellia placed a hand on her arm.
Astrid smiled her thanks. She whisked in the eggs and flour and poured the batter into a greased sheet cake pan, her mind returning to Charlie. He’d seemed himself when she’d left but she couldn’t entirely shake off her concern. Dinner was soon and he’d be here. And since Halley had mentioned he liked brownies, there would be homemade brownies waiting for him.
“I’ll wash up.” Camellia took the whisk and bowl.
“I’ll prewash that spoon.” Nicole reached for the wooden spoon covered in brownie batter.
“There are uncooked eggs in that, Nicole.” Aunt Camellia shook her head as Nicole took a big lick. “Don’t blame me if you get a stomachache.”
