“What’s going on with him?” Tillie was never quiet, and now was no exception.
“What do you mean?” Nora hoped her own hushed tone would serve as a hint that Tillie should mimic the lowered volume, but her friend didn’t get the memo.
“The guy’s normally such a hothead! Didn’t take him for the flower-giving sort.”
Nora shrugged, eyes lifting to the bedroom doorway where J.P. filled up the space, his presence audibly quiet, but still commanding. There was no way he hadn’t heard that.
“Got one for me?” He gave Nora a little jut of his chin, but didn’t acknowledge Tillie’s words. Thankfully.
“Got what?” She didn’t have a flower bouquet for J.P., nor did she think he’d even want one.
“A suit,” he said. “Or am I the sacrificial pincushion here?”
“Oh, of course.” She pulled a large beekeeping suit from the duffel bag still hoisted on her shoulder. “This should fit. It was Connor’s, but he only used it like once.”
Like he’d already been stung, J.P. flinched at her words. Of course, it couldn’t go unnoticed. April and Tillie shot Nora looks that read:You seriously did not just bring up your ex-boyfriend, did you?
While J.P. busied himself with the suit in the corner of the rundown room, Nora shrugged toward her friends helplessly. This wasn’t going well.
Maybe bringing these two along wasn’t such a great idea after all.
“Here.” Nora made a move to help him. “Let me.” She drew the hood up and over J.P.’s head, coming around to his front to zipper it closed by his neck. Even through the mesh separating them, their eyes met. Something pained crossed his expression. Maybe it wasn’t quite pain. Maybe something more, like yearning. Because Nora felt it too. On her skin. In her stomach. In her trembling breath.
Even if they had wanted to, they couldn’t kiss. Their suits prevented that. Plus, there was the peanut gallery behind them, currently staring at J.P. and Nora as if watching a daytime soap opera unfold. Nora wasn’t going to give them a show.
She pressed two palms to J.P.’s chest and patted once. “There. All set. This should keep those bees from getting to you.”
“Thank you.” J.P.’s eyes never left hers.
“Sure.”
“Are we going to get these bees out or what?” Tillie—of course it was Tillie—barked from where she stood. She peered into the half-demoed wall, shrinking back when a bee flew out of the open space. It swirled around her, up and down like it was tying her up with invisible string. She yelped.
“Don’t panic,” Nora insisted.
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have a bee sizing you up like you’re a snack.”
“You do realize bees don’t eat you,” April said knowingly. “They just sting you.”
The glare Tillie gave could’ve seared a hole through the mesh covering. “I’m not liking this, Nora.”
“It will be fine. Just step back and let me see what we’re working with.”
J.P. had been right. When he’d swung his sledgehammer into the wall, he’d destroyed some of the comb within it. But there was still a lot intact, enough that Nora was confident they could remove it and transfer the colony.
She made quick work of lighting the smoker and passed it off to April, the steadiest and calmest of the helpers in the room. She handed J.P. the vacuum.
“Once we get started, there will be lots of bees flying around.” Nora spoke to each of her friends. “We want to get them out of that wall, but our hope is to vacuum as many up as we possibly can so we can collect them to move to the new hive. It’s going to be your instinct to swat them away to get them off of you. Resist that temptation. It will only anger them.”
Tillie was going to have the most difficult time with this. Nora could already sense it.
“Your suit will keep you protected. You need to trust that,” she went on. “If, for some reason, you start to panic and need to leave the room, that’s fine. Just don’t take your suit off until I’m able to make sure you don’t have any stray bees hanging on. Okay?”
One by one, April, Tillie, and J.P. nodded their understanding.
“Great. Let’s get started.”
Forty-five minutes in,Tillie was gone—as expected—and most of the brood comb had been delicately transferred from the interior wall and rubber-banded into new frames. They’d vacuumed up a healthy amount of bees and stored the comb heavy with capped honey in chests for later when Nora could crush and strain it. There was just one thing left to do.
