Chapter 55
Chapter Fifty-Five
ELLE
It’s still a work in progress but the new education building is amazing.
Separate information displays that detail the process of caring for our bees, how we collect and produce the honey.
I was surprised to see a display about the different ways we use honey, which is mostly all of what Mabel contributes to the Farm. Mabel was near tears when she realized.
Apparently, Patrick had worked with Jude on those informational displays in secret. When Lola let it slip that Jude was the one who helped, it was like a switch had flipped. Her eyes dried up and she all but stormed out of the building.
The rest of us stood in an awkward silence for a beat after she left.
“Thank fuck Jude wasn’t here.” I grumbled.
I had no idea what was wrong with Mabel when it came to Jude.
Jude had been around for what felt like forever and it was within the last year or two that she became the Ice Queen around him.
Patrick rests his hands on my shoulders. “Did something happen between the two of them? “I wish I had an answer. Mabel is the friendliest of all of us and it’s always jarring to the system to see her so frustrated with Jude’s existence.”
Lola is chewing on her lip, looking unsure.
“I don’t think so? I’ve never heard anything from either of them.
Maybe it’s just a vibes thing, you know how Mabel likes to rely on that as an excuse for most things.
” The conversation soon leaves Mabel and Jude and we start discussing the office once more.
“Paul was a really big help in getting everything perfect. I now understand why he’s Honeyville’s number one handyman.
” Patrick lets out a little chuckle, “Say that five times fast.” We make our way out of the office, locking it up for the day.
Lola walks with us for a bit but goes off to do boss lady things while Patrick and I head back to our—my—office.
“I’m going to miss seeing my grumpy girl every day.” Patrick admits. It comes out slightly tentative, like he’s worried about how I’m going to react. I let him stew for a moment before I intertwine our fingers, keeping my eyes on the path in front of us.
“I’m going to miss having my Intruder.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll intrude on you whenever and however you want.”
“God, you’re a freak.”
“Can you blame me? You taste sweeter than the honey your family supplies to all corners of the world. I’m addicted.” Patrick’s damn voice drops an octave on those last few words and I can tell my face is redder than a tomato and I have to stop walking, my knees quickly becoming jelly.
“You can’t say stuff like that out in the open.” I go to slap his chest but he’s faster, grabbing my hand as soon as it makes contact. He presses against my hand so I can feel the warmth of his skin and the beating of his heart. It’s steady and strong, like him.
“I’ll keep my dirty words behind closed doors but you’ll have to cut my tongue out before I stop telling the world how gone I am for you.”
I love you.
The words bounce on my tongue, ready to jump past my lips and change everything but I can’t let them out.
It’s too soon and I just started working on my insecurities.
Two heart to hearts does not fix 29 years of belief that I’m too grumpy, too foul-mouthed, too big to be worthy of the love I know Patrick would offer me.
So, instead I lift up on my toes and pour my feelings into a kiss, hoping he can feel everything I’m too scared to say.