Page 63 of Bishop's Queen

“You’re making me blush.”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rolling it into his mouth. He had more to say. She had more that she wanted to hear. Not that impressive stuff. But the way he said it. The way he looked at her. Ella wanted him to know…

His eyes tracked over her head, and he spun her around him, pressing her to his back.This again?It had happened before, and he hadn’t been wrong. Her pulse picked up, and adrenaline spiked as she gripped the back of his tuxedo jacket.

“Let’s go. Time to get in the truck.” He picked up the pace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Call it a bad feeling.”

Her heels clicked with each step.

“Over here.” Bishop rotated her and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her farther into the garage.

Two voices screeched through the parking level. “Oh my God!”

Bishop moved her again, securing her safely as though she were in danger. But those were the familiar squeals of a fangirl. The sound echoed and bounced off the low garage ceiling and floors, reverberating. It was a cacophony of “Oh my God, there she is.” But the way that Bishop had tensed, they might as well have said, “There is our target; go grab her.”

“Stop right there,” he ordered. He had one arm outstretched, and the other arm was bent, his hand reaching for his weapon.

“No, no, wait.” Ella stepped to his side, panic that he would unwittingly take excitement for derangement seeping into her words.

The girls’ squealing didn’t stop as they ran. There was no reason for her fans to assume she had armed security. And from the way they carried on, Ella guessed they’d pregamed the Bloggies with a bottle of something strong, hoping to drink up the courage to approach their idols. Now that they’d stumbled across someone they deemed worthy at the end of the night? Disaster was unfolding in three, two, one… She grabbed Bishop’sshootingarm. “Wait.”

“Are you crazy?” If looks could kill, he would have to explain why she was in a body bag too. He tried to gather her behind him.

She tugged on his arm. “Look! They’re fans!”

The truth registered on his face, and a frustrated kill-the-world, protect-the-girl growl matched the irritation set in his jaw.

“They’re my people.” Ella reached her arm toward them as they reached for her. “Harmless. Anddrunk.”

He studied the girls then backed down. “Why the hell are your people standing in a garage?”

“Coincidence. We’re all parked in the same place.”

“Nothing is coincidence.”

“Sometimes—”

The two girls squeed in unison. “Wecannotbelieve it’s you!”

Bishop’s hand rested on his weapon, but he took a wary step back.

“Hi!” Ella chimed in the high-octave conversation.

“Oh my God. He issomuch hotter than Jay, the sidekick!” The girl on the right with deep-blue streaks dyed in her hair leaned against the other girl, pointing at Bishop. “We saw your video. You should’ve showed him. So much hotter.”

Ella turned, amused. “True.”

“I’m not her sidekick,” he grumbled.

The other girl shifted an overstuffed bag from one shoulder to the other in order to support her slightly more drunk friend. “But he is way hotter.”

They both giggled, and Ella watched Bishop blush. “Are you going to dispute that?”

“Ella,” he warned.

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