Page 34 of The Hitman's Omega Priest
Their pasts had no place here.
“Trust me?” Bishop asked.
“Of course.” There was no question of trust after everything Bishop had done for him since Saturday.
Bishop scooped Kensley up in his arms and cradled him close, water from his feet splashing them both. Kensley looped his arms around Bishop’s neck, completely unafraid—even when Bishop began walking farther into the lagoon. The water slowly rose, until the tips of Kensley’s toes skimmed its surface. Bishop stopped with the water at his waist and wetting the seat of Kensley’s shorts.
“About six feet farther out,” Bishop said, “the bottom drops and it gets deep. I’ve snorkeled out here before.”
“What’s out there?”
“Some coral. Porcupine and parrot fish, moray eels, sometimes starfish and seahorses. Conchs. I can teach you, if you want.”
“I’d love that. Maybe tomorrow. I need to practice swimming again.”
“Safety first.” Bishop kissed his cheek. “As much as my inner teenager would love to just toss you into the water, I’m going to put you down on your feet, okay? You can touch fine, and the current is weak.”
“Okay.” His belly wobbled on the way down, but he loved the way the water sucked him into its chilly embrace. Much colder than by shore. He held tight to Bishop’s hand and laughed at the way his shorts billowed in the water. On a peal of laughter, he dunked low until the water came over his shoulders, then stood straight back up. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” Bishop went all the way under before rocketing back up on a big splash that wet Kensley’s face, and they both started laughing. “Ready to swim?”
“Definitely.”
And they did. Kensley lost track of time as they swam around the shallow water, ducking under, becoming familiarwith their surroundings. Kensley started meekly at first, finding his courage the longer they played.
Eventually they slogged to shore and flopped onto their sand chairs. The day had heated up immensely, so Kensley was glad for the umbrella’s shade. Bishop pulled chilled bottles of water from the cooler, and they both drank. Kensley was exhausted from the swim, content with the location, and safe with the company….
And he woke to Bishop gently shaking his ankle. Kensley had fallen asleep in his chair, leaving him with a crick in his neck and a numb ass. “Ugh, what time is it?”
“About three in the afternoon,” Bishop replied.
“Did you tell that by looking at the sun and shadows?”
He chuckled. “My cell phone is in the cooler’s front pocket. I checked before I woke you.”
“You let me sleep the afternoon away?”
“You look so peaceful when you sleep. I also ate a protein bar while you napped, but I imagine you’re starving by now.”
“Definitely hungry. I slept right through lunch. Any more of those protein bars?”
Bishop handed him one, chilly from the cooler. “Here. It’ll hold off the hunger pangs while I cook.”
“I can cook. You keep cooking for me.”
“I really don’t mind. I genuinely enjoy cooking.” Bishop’s warm smile was everything. “And I finally have someone in my life important enough to cook for.”
Kensley pulled him in for a long kiss. “Then let’s go, so you can cook for us.”
For several hours that afternoon, Bishop had been able to pretend he and Kensley truly were on vacation. Playing and swimming in the lagoon had been amusing and relaxing, and he’d loved witnessing Kensley’s courage grow with each new dive. Sitting by the shore and watching Kensley sleep in the shade of their umbrella had given Bishop images of doing this far into the future. Of sharing these simple, quiet moments with the man he loved.
Yes, loved. The feelings were intense and terrifying and exciting, and Bishop couldn’t deny what he felt for Kensley: he was in love with his charus, the other half of his fated charum, and he would do everything in his power to protect what they were creating.
Since Bishop planned on returning to the lagoon many more times this week, he left the umbrella and chairs behind, collected the towels and cooler, and then led Kensley back to the house. He was keenly aware of their surroundings, despite this morning’s report from Walsh that the island was quiet. Despite a text he’d sent about twenty minutes ago, asking for a report, and receiving the same. Bishop could relax in increments, but he would never let his entire guard down.
Doing that could get him and Kensley killed. Or worse.
He sent Kensley to take a shower, while he went into the kitchen to plan their dinner. The pantry and freezer were fully stocked, which gave him plenty of options.
