Page 47 of Bad at Love
“Okay!” I say loudly, too loudly, stumbling back a bit from his grasp. “So, uh, let’s get you suited up.”
He frowns. “You okay?”
“Yes!” I bend down and grab his suit, thrusting it into his hands. “Put it on, Mr. McNaughty.”
He reluctantly takes it, his eyes resting on my face for just a bit longer before he holds up the voluminous suit, staring at it in disdain. “Are you sure they can’t sting through this?”
“They aren’t going to sting you,” I reassure him.
He glances over at the hives. “Oh, did you have a merry chat with the bees this morning about this?”
“I did. And, by the way, bees know they’ll die if they sting you. It’s always a last minute resort in order to protect the hive.”
“How noble,” he says dryly.
“It is noble,” I tell him. “Now suit up!”
He sighs, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself that I can’t quite catch. His expression says it all: this is hell. I stand back and watch him, enjoying this too much. No one is graceful when they put on a bee suit.
“So how come you have a bee suit that fits a guy as tall as me?” he asks, almost suspiciously.
Lie, I tell myself.Lie.
“It’s part of the job. If I’m teaching potential beekeepers I can’t expect them to bring their own.” And that is all true.I have two suits for kids and three for adults so far and hope to get more. But the reason I have that extra-long suit in particular is because I bought it for Laz. A long time ago. Hoping that maybe one day he’d take interest in it.
But I’m not about to admit that to him. I’m already feeling strangely vulnerable today.
So I watch as he slips the suit over his boots and pulls it up. “I feel ridiculous.”
I smile and drop to a crouch to zip up the bottom of his pants and make sure the elastic is snug. If the bees get agitated, that’s one of the first places they’ll crawl to because it’s dark and snug.
“Okay,” I tell him as I get back up. “Almost done.”
Without thinking I grab the zipper from down near his crotch and pull it up all the way to his chin.
I’m so close to him, I’m not breathing.
I pause, wondering if I’m too close, and glance up at him through my lashes.
He’s staring at me with an intensity that makes my blood run hot.
“Now would be the perfect time to kiss you,” he says, his voice low. Shivers cascade down my back like I’m stepping into a warm bath.
Holy shit.
I swallow hard, unable to find my voice.
We’re inches apart.
Heat is climbing between us.
His eyes aren’t leaving my lips. I’ve never seen him look at me like this before, this rawness that makes my thighs clench together, trying to still the pressure building inside me.
The tension is fucking unbearable, wrapping around us tighter, hotter.
He’s going to kiss me.
Don’t ruin it.
