by Finn, Emilia
She makes the huss-huss-huss sound when her breakfast sizzles on her tongue, but her smile and dancing eyes remain. “You could have some of my breakfast. Or you could have doubled the batch.”
There weren’t enough eggs, and I’ll be damned if I take the last of her anything. “I want a burger from a pretty waitress. Don’t try to take that away from me, dammit.” I love that she giggles. She giggles! And I’m not sure she even realizes it. “I’ve gotta work today too; I have shit to do with Kane, but maybe I’ll drop into the diner later for dinner, too.”
She ducks her head to hide her pleased smile. “I mean, that’d be cool.”
“And since Mac’s out again tonight, maybe I’ll follow you home again.” I wait for her eyes. “Do you think…” My heart races. “Is that something we could do?”
She’s both terrified and exhilarated. Her eyes swim through her emotions: fear, happiness, fear, hope. “Okay. But be cool when you come in for dinner; I’ll let you know if something with Mac changes. If he’s definitely staying with Ben, then… sure.”
“Good deal.” I step around the counter and place both hands on her cheeks. Pulling her up, I press a closemouthed kiss on her lips and smile when I pull away. “I’m going to shower. Be out in a minute.”
* * *
“Who the fuck are you?” Spence stops in front of me and ducks his head low to catch my eyes. I consider myself a tall man, and I feel like a damn mountain when I hold Katrina against my body, but this guy is seven feet tall, and no one can compete with that. He clicks his fingers in my face and narrows his eyes. “What happened to the miserable prick we all know?”
“Leave him alone.” Kane moves through the office with a scowl. “Stop taunting him.”
“But, Bish… he’s being weird.”
“I’m not being weird!” I push him back, sit back, and drop my feet on the corner of my desk. “I’m allowed to smile sometimes.”
“I mean, theoretically, that’s correct.”
Spence took a knife to the face a few years back during a bar fight that went bad. He was active duty army, the special ops kind, where he was in danger every damn day of his life, but it was a pussy in a bar who didn’t like Spencer swooping in and taking a girl.
I mean, fair play, because she was with the other dude to start with, but Spence didn’t force her onto his cock. He crooked a finger and invited her over, and as all girls do, she hitched her skirt up and gave him what he wanted. Her boyfriend took issue with the situation, got sloppy drunk while he watched them walk to a private room, and by the time they came back, the booze in his blood had him feeling brave. He pulled out a filthy blade and swiped out so my friend now bears jagged scars over his brow and cheek, and more yet on his forearm, from where he brought it up or risk losing an eye.
That man wasn’t dealt with by the police… but he was dealt with, and now Spence bears scars that essentially numb a part of his face. When he lifts his brows quizzically, only one moves. And when he scrubs his face in frustration, the pink scar on his cheek turns white.
He’s vain, in that he knows he’s handsome and loves the attention he receives from women. And his scarring never changed that; now the women think it’s endearing, and he tells the story of the time he saved that chick from an abusive relationship.
Lying prick.
“It’s weird is all I’m saying.” He knocks my boots to the floor and sniggers when I sit forward with a grunt. “You think we don’t all watch your security feed at night now?” He sits on Riley’s desk ten feet away from me. “You think I didn’t notice you were out all night?”
“So?” I scoff and power up my computer, if only for something to do with my hands. “You wanna talk about bedmates? Or do you wanna mind your own business?”
He grins and lifts his hands between us. “Just saying; I like her. I like that you’re smiling. And I like that you’re not freaking out about it.”
“You like that I’m smiling, so you figure teasing about it is the right response?”
He snorts and stands when Jay walks into the office with Soph pulled tight under his arm. “Yup. I like that you’re finding happiness. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be nice about it. Jay isn’t ashamed that he’s whipped. Kane’s turned into a fuckin’ marshmallow, and now he’s gonna get married like a little bitch boy. Riley lost a leg, so I feel like there’s a code of honor that means I can’t tease.” Riley rolls his eyes behind Spence’s back. “The only fucker around here with balls now is the ball-less bag of sissy-hood Ang, and that shit is just weird. Since when did he become our baddest brother? He’s not even one of us!”
“He’s one of us,” Kane snaps. “Stop bitching.”
“I meant he doesn’t work here. Jesus, calm your vagina down before you go into hysterics.”
“Guys?” Jess’ shout comes from down the hall. “Can somebody come help me for a sec?”
And just like that, she gets everyone running and forgetting about teasing me. Even our brother on a prosthetic leg runs to the pregnant twin carrying twins. We emerge into the garage to find Jess standing at the car door, puffing for breath and fanning her face. It’s October and cool enough that I’m wearing a coat, but she’s fanning her face and wearing shorts. From front on, she looks completely normal, but when she turns side on to look into her car, I see a baby bump that still surprises the fuck out of me.
She’s growing fast, and there are two in there. Bishops. Those babies are gonna be big, and she won’t be able to hold it all in for long. Her shorts are already being held up with a rubber band, since she can’t fasten the button, and her top stretches around what she’s got.
I feel like she’s fighting the system and refusing maternity clothes, but she’ll cave soon. She won’t be able to keep shimmying into those shorts no matter how many rubber bands she works with.
Turning back to our group with red roses in one hand, peonies in another – fuck me for knowing what peonies are – and orchids squished between the two, she holds them up proudly. “Pick.”
Kane steps forward slowly as though approaching a wild animal. “What are you doin’, Blondie?”
“We have to pick wedding flowers. We’re on a tight time frame, so pick one, real quick.”
“Um…”
“Peonies,” I cough. “Pick the peonies.”
Kane turns to me with a smirk, but then he shrugs and turns back. “Peonies.”
Jess flashes a wide smile. “Okey dokey.” She tosses the samples back into the car and pulls out a planner instead. She drops it on the roof of her car, flips the pages open, and starts writing. “Abigail will be happy you chose those.”
“Oh…kay. I have no fuckin’ clue who that is, but I’ll trust you on that.”
“Abigail,” Jess frowns. “My florist. We spoke about this already!”
When he only shrugs, Jess rolls her eyes and leans back into the car, only to come out with squares of fabric. Yellow. Red. Rose. Peach. Navy. Silver. Green. Gold. “Pick one. Whichever one you pick will cover the tablecloths, napkins, bridesmaid dresses, and your groomsmen’s vest thingies.”
“The waistcoats.” I hate myself for correcting a girl on this shit. I hate that I know it all, and I especially hate how everyone’s eyes come back to me. They grin, then they go back to Jess.
“Yes!” She smiles. “The waistcoat. Now pick a color, Bishop.”
“Silver!” the wrong Bishop answers. “I like the silver.”
Kane shrugs. “Silver. It’s badass.”
“Color of a knife blade,” Spence adds.
Jay nods. “Color of a bullet.”
“It’s the color of my Glock, baby.”
“It’s the color of all your brains when I smoosh them on the concrete for talking too much,” Jess throws down. “Okay, we’re locking in the silver.” She tosses the fabric back into the car, then stands again with a tired grunt. “Okay. Bishop or Lenaghan?”
Kane lifts a brow. “Huh?”
“I change my name to Bish
op, or you change yours to Lenaghan?”
I cough into my hand when the explosion comes. Not just from one Bishop, but from them both. “What the actual fuck, Jessica?!”
Jay throws his hands into the air. “He’s not changing his fuckin’ name! A man doesn’t change his name.”
“I’m not changing my fuckin’ name!” Kane paces the garage. “What the actual fuck is going on in your head that you think I’m gonna change my name? That’s the girl’s job. As a man, my name carries on!”
“Oh shit.” I back up to the step leading into the garage and take a seat. Because Miss Fancy in all her pregnant glory is going to kill a couple thugs today.
“The girl’s job?” she asks. “The girl’s job? Are you stupid, or did you forget women aren’t possessions anymore? We still earn seventeen percent less than a man; we’re constantly passed over in the workforce even if we’re smarter, just because the baboon next to us has a dick, and now you wanna take our names, too? My law degree says Lenaghan! The only thing you have with your name is a rap sheet.”
“Oh, burn,” Spence snorts.
“You can’t expect him to give up his name!” Jay intervenes. “That’s our legacy. Those babies in your stomach are Bishops. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Says who?” Soph snaps. “I’m not giving my name up when we marry.”
He spins on his girlfriend with wide eyes. “Uh, yes, you fuckin’ are!”
“No, I’m fucking not!” she fires back. “Why is it so unbelievable for a man to take a woman’s name? You said it yourself: I have a good, strong name.”
“Yeah, for a girl.”
Spence dives forward and catches Soph mid-flight. Claws bared, teeth thrashing, she aims for her man’s face and growls as Spence holds her off the ground and absorbs her wild kicks to the shins. “I’ll kill you, Jay Bishop! I’ll kill you dead, and then nobody gets your name.”
“Jessica still gets my name,” Kane snarls. “Jay can go, because our name will live on.”
“Motherfucker! Where’s the loyalty?”
Kane thrusts an arm toward a fuming Jess. “I have my own problems right now, Jay! Stop being so fuckin’ selfish.” He turns to Jess. “Peonies, silver, and Bishop. The answer is fuckin’ Bishop! This isn’t up for discussion.”
“It’s lucky we have two babies coming, then.” Jess slams her car door and moves toward me. “I have dibs on one of them. I’m gonna choose the boy if we get one of those, and I’m gonna name him Lenaghan. Then my name lives on for eternity.”
“We’re not giving them different last names!” he calls after her. “Jessica Anne! Get back here so we can discuss this! Luc gets to carry your name on.”
She stops right beside me so her shins touch my legs. “You say discuss, but what you mean is dictate. Watch your back, Bishop! You don’t wanna fuck with a pregnant chick.”
“You’re overreacting!”
Spence drops Soph and sprints out of the garage mere seconds before Riley and me.
* * *
I walk through the diner doors that evening and slow at the ruckus that Mac and Ben make in their booth. My eyes instantly shoot across the room and stop on Katrina’s. It’s like she was waiting for me, and with a small nod, she expresses everything she needs to without a single word.
Act cool. Do not say anything that could tip Mac off.
I nod in reply, then drop my hands into my pockets and make my way to my booth. Head down, hat on, snicker on my breath because my best friends are idiots and still won’t stop pouting over the name thing, I pass the guys and look up in time to meet Mac’s waiting eyes.
“Cap.” He offers a hand and waits for me to tap his knuckles.
“Mac.” I turn to Ben and lift my chin. There would be no fist bump from him. “Ben.”
“FuckWhit,” Ben replies. “Didn’t find a different diner to eat in yet?”
A loud scuffle beneath the table ensues, then Mac growls a response when Ben kicks back. “What’s up, Cap?” Mac’s voice squeaks, because Ben got a good shot in. “Busy day?”
I lift a shoulder and continue moving to my booth before Katrina shoots across the diner and kills me for talking to her kid for too long. My back is to Mac’s, so I still answer. “Same old. Work and shit.”
“That so? What’s happening at work?”
“Bishops nearly died today.”
He shoots up to his knees with a gasp and leans over the seats. “No shit?”
“Shit. But it was because of Jess and Soph. The guys forgot to use their brains, so the girls wanted to kill them.”
“Oh!” he laughs. “Just the girls. I swear, some guys are so stupid. How do they not know how to work a woman at their age? It ain’t hard.”
Coming from the boy who knows every single one of his mom’s buttons. “Yeah, well, their manhood was threatened. So ya know how well that went over.”
The dimples beneath his lips twinkle with his smile. “What did they do?”
“They demanded the girls take their name when they marry.”
He frowns. “So?”
“The keyword here is ‘demanded,’” I laugh. “Like, straight up, suicide mission, demanded shit.”
“I’d demand it too.” Ben scowls from his chair. “A man’s name is his legacy. No way are we hyphenating or using some bullshit made-up name.”
Mac and I turn to him and smile. “You gonna demand?” Mac asks. “You’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me you’re gonna demand your girl changes her name to Conner? Even if she doesn’t wanna?”
“Fuck yes,” he snaps. “A girl can make us pick up our towels; they can make us clean the counters and not swear around polite company. They hold a lot of power over men because they’re so pretty and all that, but my name is my name. I’m passing that shit on whether she likes it or not.”
Mac giggles. Little girl bubbly giggles work up his throat as he turns straight on and drops into his seat. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do say so!”
“Uh-huh.” Mac nods. “I said I believe ya.”
“So stop laughing at me then!”
I turn back to sit front on in my booth and smile. Benny’s going to find himself in hot water eventually, because no matter who he chooses to terrorize – I mean, marry – she isn’t going to tolerate a dictator for a husband. These dumbasses just need to realize it’s all in how they approach it; there’s no doubt in my mind Jess will take Bishop’s surname, but she won’t budge as long as Kane is demanding shit. Now he needs to take his stupid ass to the florist, buy peonies, and then talk to Jess using his inside voice.
She’ll respond to kindness, but demands will only have her pulling her gun.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’s shot at her man because he pissed her off.
“Hi, my name is Katrina, and I’ll be your server this evening.”
I drag in a lungful of roses and sex until my chest doubles in size. Turning to her with a smile, I look her up and down from her sneakers to her tits. I pause there for a long minute and remember suckling on them just last night, and when I feel her blush in the air, I continue up till I reach her eyes.
Our gazes meet, and my cock grows beneath the table. “Hi Katrina. My name’s Eric, and I’ll be your customer today.”
She rolls her eyes and brings her pen and paper up. “Burger and fries?”
“Yeah, and three cookies, please.”
“Okay.” Her cheeks are a violent red, but she hides it well with a tilt and finger brush of her hair to cover her face.
“Don’t bring the cookies out yet though, please.” I wait for her darkened eyes. “I’ll collect those later.”
Her lips quiver and her hands shake. “Okay.” She nervously clears her throat, then snaps her gaze up at the loud thump behind me, then at the silverware on the boys’ table as it moves. “Macallistar Blair?”
“Sorry, Mom. I thought there was a bee or something.”
“No, we did–”
Mac
slams the table again and shuts his friend up. I turn to them and frown, because though Mac has always been kinda weird, he’s bordering on crazy tonight. “There was a bee, and Benny has a life-threatening allergy. That little fuc–” He stops when his mother pops a hip. “I mean, if that little bug pops him in the face, he could die. Or, ya know, cry. I was just shooing it away, because as his best friend, I’d probably be sad if he died.”
“Probably,” Ben huffs. “Asshole.”
“You boys have eaten.” Katrina stuffs her notepad and pen into her apron pocket and steps away from me as though she’s forgotten my existence. She starts stacking plates and shooing the boys. “You’ve eaten, had dessert, and watched me for as long as you’re allowed. I love you.” She presses a red kiss to Mac’s cheek.
“And I love you too, even if you’re a smart-mouthed asswipe that teaches my kid all the bad swears.” She pulls Ben down and presses a lipsticked kiss to his cheek. He busily wipes the smudges away with the sleeve of his black sweater.
“Now, go back to Oz’s place. I will call there in twenty minutes. It should take only fifteen to run there.” She lifts a precarious pile of dishes, but stops and pins Mac with a glare. “Make good choices, baby. Straight to Ben’s house; do not leave again until you’re coming home tomorrow.”
“I’ll be good. I promise.” The boy grabs the pile of dishes from Katrina and whisks them to the kitchen. “Call the house in fifteen. We’ll be there. I swear.” Mac’s eyes flicker to me just for the briefest second, then back to his mom. “You’re good tonight? Not gonna get too lonely?”
“Um…” And again, she’s forced to pretend she’s scrubbing an already clean table, just so she can curtain her face with her hair. “I’ll miss your face, baby. But I’ll be okay. I’m going straight home to bed just as soon as we mop and close up here.”
“Alright.” Again, Mac’s eyes flicker to me, then away before I can figure out what his curious stares represent. “Love you, Mommy. Sweet dreams.”
She accepts his squishy hug and presses a final kiss to his cheek. “Love you too. I’ll call the house in seventeen minutes. You better be in your jammies when I do.”
