Page 20 of The Hive Queen

“Wow, way to break the bro code, why don’t you? Maybe you should read that book instead of obsessing over your history…” Flint’s teasing voice trails off as he steps into the hall and spots me. “What happened to you?”

“I was working,” I snap and head into the bathroom. “Someone has to replace all the money you’re spending on the Conservatory.”

Flint catches the door before I can close it. “Hey, we talked about the expense before we took on the project. We all agreed it was a good investment.”

“I know.” I rub my aching neck. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

His expression softens, and he steps farther into the bathroom. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been leaving too much on you while I focus on the Conservatory.”

Sharpe joins us, an expression of regret on his face. “And I’m sorry I kicked you off the crime scene after asking you for help. That was a bad call.”

I glare at him through the mirror. “Which part? When you called me in? Or when you kicked me out?”

He winces. “The second one. Without you there, Bailey would have stolen my crime scene and covered up the whole damn thing.”

Flint lifts his fist and coughs into it. “Daddy issues.”

Sharpe glares at him before he looks away. “I can’t argue with that assessment. There’s history where Bailey is concerned that I’m still dealing with.”

“The man is a raging asshole who’s far too full of himself.” I twist on the hot water tap. “He tried to hire me after you kicked me off the scene. Said he’d pay me big to poach the monster right out from under you so he could take credit for closing your case.”

Sharpe’s gaze sweeps over my dusty clothes and the dirt smudges on my face, and he takes a step closer. “You turned him down, right?”

Anger simmers through me before exhaustion takes over, and it peters out. I don’t even have the energy to be mad.

I turn to face Sharpe. “He offered a lot of money. What do you think I said?”

Flint looks between us and takes a cautious step backward to be out of the line of fire.

Sharpe searches my face. “Where did you go after you left the crime scene?”

I lift my chin. “How about you answer my question first, Captain?”

His shoulders relaxed. “You turned him down.”

“It took you way too long to say that. And no, I didn’t.” I turn back to the sink and cup my hands under the hot water before splashing it over my face. Blinking the drops from my lashes, I meet Sharpe’s hard gaze in the mirror. “I told him to submit a job request to our office so that I would have a paper trail for evidence against him.”

He gives a relieved smile. “That was quick thinking on your part.”

“You’re an asshole.” I pump soap into my hands and start scrubbing the dirt off my arms. “Figure out a way to make it up to me.”

“Aww, don’t fight.” Flint wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses the back of my neck.

Pain shoots through me, and I jerk away from him, clamping a hand over my nape.

Flint’s blue eyes widen. “What’s wrong?”

I roll my shoulder to ease the stiffness and rub the spot. “I got stung by a bee earlier.”

“They were all over the crime scene.” Sharpe strides forward and turns me back around. “Didn’t you put anything on it after you left?”

I grip the edge of the sink. “It’s just a bee sting. I won’t die from something like that.”

“The swelling has gotten worse.” Sharpe’s head turns toward Flint. “Grab the first aid kit.”

“You’re making a big fuss over nothing.” I grab a washcloth and wet it before scrubbing at my face. “Slapping it with antibacterial cream at this point won’t make a difference.”

“You should just get in the bath.” Flint sets the first aid kit down on the counter. “You’re filthy. What were you doing all night?”

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