The look she gave me in the Hawkeye Club parking lot when I rode in should have made me turn right around, and I almost did. But then I got close enough to see the exhaustion on her face. The dark circles under her eyes. How frayed she looked. As if she hasn’t slept in days. And I knew I was right in my assessments of her.
Bishop will forgo taking care of herself and her needs in order to ensure everyone else has theirs met, in order to secure the safety of those she loves.
Even now, out here in the park, with nothing but the sounds of the crickets, frogs, and other animals coming out at dusk surrounding us, she’s still somewhere else in her head. Still wrapped up in the concerns that plague her when she’s in her protector role.
I lean in and feather my lips across her ear. “Relax.”
She flinches slightly at the contact, or maybe at the word that represents something she struggles with so much.
It takes her a moment before she inhales a long, slow breath, then releases it, but almost instantly, her shoulders relax slightly, a bit of that tension floating away.
A small victory to be celebrated.
Because Bishop Clarke will not give up anything easily.
Especially not something personal that might show she’s human.
My entire purpose in bringing her here tonight was to get her out of the environments we’ve been in together previously. Places where she feels obligated to be on-guard at all times, watchful and tense. Bring her somewhere completely free from the threats she’s seemingly worrying about, and that’s as breathtakingly beautiful as she is.
I reach over her and snag the bottle of wine, twisting off the cap.
She raises a brow. “Twist top?”
Laughing, I set the cap beside me. “It’s good. I promise.”
“Did you bring glasses?”
I bring the bottle to my mouth and take a sip of the sweet and tanniny liquid, then grin at her. “Do we need them?”
The corner of her lips twitches, as if she’s fighting a smile she doesn’t want to give me, but she accepts the proffered bottle and takes a sip of it herself. “I can’t say I’ve ever sat in the park and drank wine straight out of the bottle before.”
“Really?” I raise a brow. “‘Cause I do this every weekend.”
Bishop laughs so hard she actually releases a little snort, the sound carrying through the night air. She slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening with sheer embarrassment, but I reach up and pull it away, wrapping my fingers around her slender wrist.
“Don’t.” I squeeze gently, bringing the top of her hand to my mouth and pressing my lips to soft skin there. “That was adorable.”
Her breath hitches, and she tugs her wrist from my hold, rolling her eyes. “Fuck, don’t say that. The last thing I want to be is adorable.”
“Why not?”
I genuinely meant it as a compliment, but the way Bishop purses her lips, she seems annoyed, like she would rather punch me than sit here with me right now.
“Do I really have to explain it to you?”
“Apparently…”
She releases a long sigh that carries far more than just annoyance over the “adorable” comment. “You know I help run security for my family.”
I nod.
“So, does looking ‘adorable’ really fit with someone in that position?”
“I mean…”—I shrug—“they’re not mutually exclusive. You can be a total badass who pins me to the ground in a split second and takes absolute control of the situation and still be adorable as fuck.”
She sure fucking is.
Bishop offers me an uneasy look, like if she had a choice, she’d rather be anywhere but sitting here with me on this blanket under the darkening sky in this beautiful park.
