Bishop's Pawn

by Suzanne Halliday

  She let the stillness engulf her. Faint, barely audible sounds of light classical music floated in the air. From the time he was a baby, she’d played music when Matty took his nap. Not long after he was born when she started taking care of him full-time, she’d read every baby book and child development manual the library had. Theories and practices about naptime were a dime a dozen, but she liked the one that focused on teaching a kid how to relax rather than forcing eyes closed. She always told Matty that she didn’t care if he slept, as long as he spent the time being quiet and relaxing. It worked. Classical music became Matty’s calm down switch. She sometimes wondered what went on in that busy little head of his when things settled and got quiet. He was a deep thinker. Part of that old soul thing, so she hoped he got something positive out of the quiet time.

  In the few days they’d been together, she’d discovered that Roman had interesting musical preferences. He knew every single classical song on all three of the CDs she had. And he could sing along to most of the country rock but lost his master of the universe title when the kid songs came on. Who didn’t know the wheels on the bus? Sheesh!

  She needed him. With him, she felt alive. And safe.

  “Am I an idiot?” she asked. The silence held no answer. Just her luck. She was going to have to figure this one out on her own.

  Her eyes drifted slowly around the living room. The small house was all she’d ever known. The few modern touches she added, like the cheap CD player, the off brand flat screen, and her very cool laptop, didn’t compensate for the elephant in the room.

  As long as she dug in and refused to budge, they’d remain isolated. No longer forgotten but still separate from the rest of the world. And wasn’t that exactly what she was trying to change about Matty’s future?

  Her outsider status had been shoved down her throat a long time ago, but he still had a shot at a different life. She owed it to him to make the best of their strange turn in circumstance.

  If she stuck to her guns and put her foot down, maybe, just maybe, the future she so meticulously visualized could still be hers.

  A place for her and Matty where he could go to school and they could both find a place in the world. She wanted to grow her brand and make KA James into a real business. And she wanted to stop feeling left out. Invisible. Forgotten. Denied.

  Roman certainly didn’t make her feel any of those things. Was it insane that she felt the way she did about a man she barely knew?

  Oh, hell yeah. But she’d always listened to her gut, and the message coming at her where he was concerned involved a steady, unwavering beam of rock steadiness tied up with a big blue bow of hope. Why blue? Because blue made her smile and the smile she had for Roman Bishop reached into her soul. Reason enough.

  All of that was well and good but what about this old house? It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She had animals to care for and a huge garden to work. This summer she planned to reinforce the shed and at Matty’s insistence was sketching out a brick outdoor fireplace. What would happen if they walked away? She knew damn well it would not take long for the Dulbs to stir up shit. Burt was a smarmy prick with a bad case of girl-humiliation. He’d burn the house to the ground as payback for her being a bigger badass than he could ever be.

  Plus there was that other uncomfortable, niggling worry biting her on the ass. She’d almost died of embarrassment when Matty announced to Roman that she’d never worn a dress. Not once. Not ever. Dresses were of no use in her present world. She wore jeans. And flannel. In the summer when it was hot, the jeans were cut-offs and the flannel became t-shirts. Their hats and scarves? She knitted them.

  Now, she did have a bathing suit, finally. Got it last year when she picked up an inflatable pool at Walmart. Best summer ever because Matty had been over-the-moon with joy over the water toys. But that was it where her wardrobe was concerned. She picked up her undies from the dollar bin, slept buck naked or in sweats, and when necessary endured picking through boxes of cheap crap at the Payless shoe store.

  Who was she kidding? A sophisticated guy like Roman just had to be used to high-class women. Women with dresses and high heels. Women who wore make-up and got their lady parts waxed. It took a fuck-ton of effort to squash the doubts she felt whenever the shit-storm stirrer inside her asked, ‘What the hell does he see in me?’

  When she imagined moving away from here, it was never to a place like New York. What she envisioned was more suburban, right on the edge of rural, not the busy streets of a major city. Matty would love it, but she wouldn’t know what to do. How did she handle going from working sun up to sun down, to doing nothing?

  The low growl of an approaching truck roused Kelly from her thorny preoccupation. She was never going to be a girly girl, and that was that. What that meant in the bigger picture where Roman was concerned was a huge kernel of self-doubt that she pushed aside for now.

  He found her on the floor and laughed. “What’s going on sweet pea?”

  Sweet pea. Ha! That one was new. The guy had a world-class vocabulary and was going through every imaginably cute way to call her little without riling her up.

  Those doubts she had one minute ago? All gone. Poof. Vanished.

  Patting the floor next to her, she scooted over a bit and gave him room to sit down. On his way to planting his spectacular butt on the carpet, he swooped in for a hello kiss.

  “Matty’s napping? Cool,” he joshed with a shoulder shove that nearly toppled her over. “Wanna do it on the floor?”

  The playfully fiendish eye waggle and teasing, “Huh? Huh? Come on! You know you want to,” made it impossible to scowl. Even as a joke.

  She threw in the towel. There wasn’t any other option. Instead of attempting a calm, rational discussion about the future, she said a little prayer and let the winds of change blow through her life.

  “To be perfectly honest,” she quipped with a saucy smirk, “I’m sort of over the whole sex on the floor thing. I think it might be killing my back.”

  “There’s a solution for that, you know,” he chuckled. “Your riding skills are exceptional, love.”

  “Shut up,” she chided. “I was going somewhere with that speech, and so if it’s ruined now, it’s your fault.”

  “My bad,” he conceded. The smirky nod was one hundred percent Roman.

  Pretending exasperation, she drawled, “Anyway…as I was saying. The floor. Meh. So yesterday – so over it. Which got me wondering,” she paused and took a deep breath, “exactly how big is your bed?”

  He almost answered. The matter-of-fact expression on his face told her he missed her point. Then the light bulb went off over his thick man-skull, and she watched as her comment hit the mark. So fast she yelped, he flattened her to the floor and wedged between her thighs.

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Carina? Don’t mess with me, little lady. Is that a white flag you’re waving?”

  She wrapped her legs around his body and touched his handsome face. “I think I’m ready.”

  “Kelly,” he groaned.

  “But I can’t do this by myself, and I’m scared.” She couldn’t believe those words came out of her mouth. His wide-eyed reaction told her he was equally shocked.

  “I swear to God, babe. You won’t regret this.”

  She grimaced. “I already regret it, but I know this has to happen.”

  He took her face in his hands. “You’ll call all the shots, honey. I’ll make sure of it. And nobody but you gets a say where Matty is concerned.”

  His words tore at her heart. He understood, and that was enough for now.

  “I need you to be there if this is going to work. Don’t leave me, Roman.” That’s more honest and vulnerable than she could ever remember being.

  “Ah, Jesus, Kelly. Leave you? Don’t you understand yet? I’m going nowhere that doesn’t involve you and Matthew at my side. That’s a promise. And before you start imagining I’m only worried about getting you pregnant, let me make this clear. I’m too fucki
ng old for you and keeping you to myself is hella’ messed up, but that’s the hand I was dealt. So expect the full package. All of it. We’re a couple. I take care of you.”

  She rolled her eyes. He kissed her and continued.

  “And you will let me. If you’re a bitch about it, then we’ll have a heart-to-heart about the spanking scenario you’re panting over.”

  She laughed. “Hello? Did you hear what you just said because unless I’m mistaken, I believe you just gave me permission to be a right royal bitch and reap some super sexy benefits in the deal.”

  His eyes flared, and then he chuckled too. “Fuck. Can I get a do-over?”

  “No, ya’ dope, but you can answer the damn question about your bed. Are we talking a hermit’s lumpy cot? Maybe an air mattress? Ooh! Or one of those futon things.”

  He took her hands by the wrist and stretched them above her head. Her legs dropped from his body, and her heels dug into the carpet. Did he have her attention? Oh hell yeah.

  “King size…bed and cock. Four posters. Perfect for leather restraints.” She held her breath as he spoke. He released her wrists and with one hand stroked the sensitive skin. “Or perhaps satin bindings. Shame to mar your beautiful skin.”

  As usual when he allowed a glimpse of the things that fueled his sex drive she started melting down. While their lovemaking had been intense and adventurous, she sensed an undercurrent of leashed sensuality that she longed to set free.

  “Will a blindfold be made available?” she asked with a breathy moan.

  His smile was genuine. And very, very hot. “Really? You’re okay with being blindfolded?”

  Was she?

  The slamming of the bathroom door jolted both of them, and they reacted like the goddamn sex police were about to walk into the room. Quickly disengaging, Roman leaped to his feet and extended a hand to help her up.

  When Matty came bounding into the room, they managed to make it seem like they’d been doing nothing more than having a casual conversation.

  Roman lost no time locking down Kelly’s startling surrender. Did it concern him that he wore her down and probably forced her change-of-heart? Not in the least.

  She was pretending to arrange pillows on the sofa when Matty came into the room. Before buyer’s remorse could set in, he wiped out her last escape route.

  “Buddy!” Roman hooted. He and the boy high-fived. “Guess what. We’re taking a road trip, little dude. Kelly said okay. New York City here we come.”

  “Hey,” Kelly griped. “Slow down. Nobody said anything about a road trip. I’ve got the house and…”

  “Taken care of,” he announced. “I’ll spare the details now because you’ll check with Sam anyhow, but here’s the deal.”

  Roman gave Matty a wink. The kid already recognized the signal and fist bumped him in male solidarity.

  “Found a caretaker. You know the guy. Bobby Douglas. Sam says he’s cool. You’d be helping a veteran get back on his feet.”

  Matty’s blonde head nodded enthusiastically. “Roman says we should always help a beteran.”

  Kelly’s knee-jerk correction took the wind out of any possible objection.

  “It’s veteran. V like vanilla. And Roman is right,” she assured the boy with a smile.

  “Then it’s settled,” he crowed triumphantly. Shit! He couldn’t believe how easy this ended up being.

  “New York! New York!” Matty squealed with glee. Skipping around the room he turned into a tiny whirling dervish as the excitement overtook him. “Kiki!” he shouted. “I’m gonna have my birthday at New York!”

  Roman saw her face fall. He knew what she was thinking. In her mind New York represented her losing control of their lives. She had plans for Matty’s big day. He knew this because he saw a sketch of the fancy homemade cake she planned to construct. A dinosaur of course, and not just that. Somewhere in the mess of crap in her room was a birthday kit of decorations with some balloons, hats, noisemakers, a paper table cloth and cups and plates, and napkins.

  It astonished and bothered him what she managed to do with forty dollars. No way was he going to let her be deprived of her plans.

  “Dude,” Roman drawled. Matty’s attention was instantly on him. “Wait till you see what she has planned. I’m totally jealous.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and for the first time since they met, he caught a glimpse of something she tried so hard to cover up.

  When all was said and done, Kelly James was far too young to take on so much responsibility when you considered that none of what she dealt with was of her making. It was one thing to fuck up with shitty decisions. Not much choice when it came time to own up. But to step into a whirling Bermuda Triangle of poor choices and fucks ups courtesy of someone else and be the one to make things right? Fuck, but that made him mad. Seeing her eyes fill with doubt and anxiety was not his idea of fun.

  Matthew Liam James, Mr. Old Soul wearing Oshkosh overalls went to her and wrapped his arms around a thigh. “My Kiki is the best.”

  She ruffled his hair and smiled down into his adoring eyes.

  No matter what, I’m going to do right by these two, he mentally vowed. He’d dropped the ball once before and left too much to chance. Not this time. No way.

  “Matthew,” he drawled. “I’m feeling Candyland. Why don’t you go set up the board and I’ll find out what we’re having for dinner.”

  Because kids are so damn easily distracted, he skipped off and left him and Kelly alone for a minute or three.

  “Let’s make sure we pack his party things. And if you give me a detailed list of what you need for his birthday dinner, I’ll take care of laying in supplies.”

  “You make it sound like we’re going on a camping trip, but I bet you’ve got one of those HGTV kitchens.”

  Only he would end up with the only female on the planet who would grumble about a state of the art cook’s kitchen and do it with a touch of pout that did unbelievable things to his dick.

  What could he do to ease her mind? Oh, wait. He had an idea. And it was a good one too.

  “Would you feel better if you saw pictures? Of my place, I mean. You might be surprised.”

  “You have pictures?”

  “Well, no,” he told her laughingly. “But I can get some pretty quick. I’ll text my decorator.” He snickered at what that meant. “She’d be happy to snap some pictures.”

  “You have a decorator?”

  The barely concealed wonder in her voice was funny.

  “Actually, I have a Rhiann. She’s the mastermind behind a lot of what you’ll see. No snotty comments about the antlers.”

  Her disbelief continued. “You have antlers?”

  He chuckled and drew her into a hug. “I prefer to think of them as a decorating affectation.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Penny jar,” Matty hooted.

  “It means,” he told her with his lips hovering over hers, “that from a visual standpoint they scream, look at me. Hence the affectation inside the decorating focal point.”

  His kiss swallowed her reaction. When he was sure she’d been silenced, he ended the kiss and swatted her butt playfully.

  “The men are hungry,” he bellowed with a Tarzan-like chest thump to Matty’s grinning delight. “Woman of the house. What’s for dinner?”

  She whispered in his ear, “Uh, how about your balls on a platter?”

  He let rip with a hearty guffaw and swatted her again, this time more forcefully. When she yowled and covered her butt with her hands, he leered suggestively. “No to the platter,” he grandiosely declared. “But yes to your mouth.”

  “I give up,” she groused. Throwing her hands up in defeat she marched into the kitchen and started banging pots and pans.

  “Kiki,” Matty yelled. “Fish sticks and cheesy macaroni. Okay?”

  “Well I don’t know Matty,” she muttered. “I’m not sure fancy men like frozen fish sticks.”

  As far as digs went, that one was pretty la
me.

  “Got ketchup?” Roman asked. When both of them nodded yes, he held up his hands. “Then we’re good. My mom always gave us ketchup for dipping, so that’s how I like them.”

  Kelly’s dark scowl was adorable. He had an answer for everything, and it was getting on her last nerve.

  Matty was well on his way to cleaning Roman’s clock at Candyland when Kelly called out to them. “It’s your job to set the table.”

  He enjoyed the way her ass rocked a pair of curve-hugging jeans. When she bent over to peer in the oven, he swallowed the primitive grunt that automatically rumbled up from his core. As much as he’d enjoyed their furtive sex life until now, he couldn’t wait to bend her sweet little body over the end of his enormous bed and fuck the shit out of her from behind. It’d be even hotter if she let him tie her hands.

  Without thinking, he rubbed his hand on the bulge evident in his pants. She turned around at that moment with a hot pan she held by a potholder. She stared at his hand. He stared at her face. Until now he’d managed to keep their shenanigans in the moderately vanilla zone. But it was getting harder and harder to keep things there because his deliciously wanton little lover was pushing for more.

  He launched off the sofa and dashed across the room, taking the pan and potholder from her hand before she got burnt. If they were alone, he’d toy with her. Play word games and inflame their passions.

  But he was learning to navigate the dad route, and that meant behaving when the kid was around. Well, mostly behaving. He dropped the pan onto the stovetop and glanced back at Matty. He was busy setting the table and wasn’t paying them any attention. He took the chance because that’s what you did when a clear shot presented itself.

  Grasping one of her hands he took her fingers and used his big hand atop hers to fondle his bulge. He bit her earlobe and growled, “Interested?”

  He had to give it up for timing because she got quite a handful before they had to break apart.