Page 34 of Bishop's Queen

“Bishop?”

He turned. She hadn’t moved.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think of the world the way you do. I put too much trust in people I can’t see who have said they think like me, and maybe I shouldn’t do that.”

Finally, they were on the same page. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“And sometimes, it seems pretend. I live here, just me in Virginia. Not Hollywood, not NYC. Nothing flashy.”

“It’s real, babe.” He shifted, and she did too.

Her tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip. “And honestly… forget it.” She laughed quietly. “Can we make it liquor instead?”

“Is there something eco-friendlier about liquor over beer?” Because if there was, he was about to love his beer even more.

“No.” A genuine smile warmed her eyes, replaced by an edge of amusement. “I just like the way it feels, especially after a conversation like this.”

Not a crazy-girl answer. That was as all-American as he could’ve wanted. “Now you’re talking my language.” He walked back to her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the door. “Let’s go. You’ve had a shitty few days.”

“Weeks,” she corrected him. “And I need a drink.”

“Hell yeah, you do.”

She brushed against him, leaning on him and not letting go. The scent of her lavender plants caught in the air as she stepped to the door. It was the closest they’d been in years, and at that moment, he was hyperaware of her skin on his and her soft hair touching him. The front hallway was too small for them to pause side by side. But they did.

Lavender and mint clung to them, and she lingered against him. The day had been emotional. Maybe it justified their closeness. He didn’t know. And the job would never allow such things. But they had a history. If they hadn’t known each other, though, that conversation would never have happened.

Ella let go of the arm that had needlessly guided her to the door. Her fingers drifted down his forearm, their tips not quite breaking contact, skimming over his arm hair that spiked to attention. Awareness crested as their touch finally broke.

When she turned, the white skirt swayed. The material was softer than air and light enough that even with the slightest change of direction, it swished. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. Once the alarm was set, they had only seconds to vacate, but in his mind, the dark-blue tank top and long white skirt were a sudden tease.

With crystal clarity, it was easy to imagine her pressed against her front door instead of setting the alarm. Not an appropriate thought for him to have as she readied to punch in the code. At least she was doing that… but that wasn’t where his mind was. He was wondering how it would feel to spread her sandaled feet apart. One hand on her back, holding her still, and with the other hand, he could reach all the way down to her ankle. Had a long skirt ever been so sexy? It covered so much and made him so curious. If he ran his palm up her calf, dragging that fabric up, how would her skin feel? If her legs were anything like her arms and shoulders, they would be smooth and athletic, something to hold on to, to flex his fingers into.

His mouth watered. If he wasn’t working, if she weren’t his to watch out for… if this weren’t an arrangement like it was, he would keep walking, press her breasts against the door, and his erection against her ass.

It’d been years since he last stole her breath, yet he could remember the sound as if it was last week. The sighs she made. The way her chest would heave and her eyes would flutter when they were in bed, as he readied to take her.Hell…

He let out a breath, and it shook. The alarm beeped, signaling they had to leave, and Ella turned around, unaware of the knot in his throat and his semi-hardening cock, but she met his hungry stare and had to have known in a hot second where his mind had been.

Damn it.

A quick fire hit her cheeks, and Bishop backed away, swallowing away urges that should have been more hidden, impulses that should’ve been nonexistent.

“Ready?” He twisted the knob and exited into the hall first, giving a quick sweep that didn’t distract him but at least toned down his arousal.

She followed behind, turning a key in the lock. “We’ll grab the herbs after dinner.” Her eyes were everywhere but near him, and without a doubt, the woman was a mind reader. “And—”

Shit. Damn it.He needed to fix this now. “Hey, wait.” Bishop stood in the hallway. Ella’s pink cheeks and lack of eye contact were all the confirmation he needed to know he’d been busted checking her out. “Part of my gig with you is you have to always feel safe with me.”

She moved her purse from one shoulder to the other. “I know.”

“I’m here to watch out for you, no questions asked. You have to rely on me, without hesitation. That’s the way it works. You have to trust me.”

She lifted her chin, finally meeting his gaze. “I know. Jared explained that to me.”

“We’re good?”

“Yes.”

“No matter the past.” Or no matter if he had just ogled her, which would never happen again.

“No matter what happened all those years ago.”

“Or…” How did he word this without sounding like a crass pervert?

“You’re like the asshole older brother I never had, making sure I do what I’m supposed to do. Right?”

Asshole older brother.Brother. Couldn’t get any less sexy than that, could he? “Right. Just like that,” he agreed, hating the description and embracing it simultaneously.

“Great!” She marched toward the elevator, and he let her lead. Ella punched the button for the elevator, and she was almost chipper. “Drinking with my grumpy, grouchy, older brother babysitter. Then we get to run errands. Fun.”

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