Bishop's Pawn

by Suzanne Halliday

  “So look guys, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about if we do this? Let’s take half an hour to get organized and then let’s hit up the Applebee’s we passed a few miles back. Sound good?”

  What he got back were blank stares.

  It took a minute for his mind to catch up. Right, right, he thought with a brief nod. Transitions.

  “Applebee’s is a family restaurant. Great kids’ menu,” he told them, although he had no fucking idea what he was talking about. “Trust me. You’ll like it.”

  One dark-haired head and the other dirty-blonde bobbed up and down. What did that mean? Were they on board with the suggestion? It was a bitch trying to read these two when everything coming their way was new and unfamiliar.

  He lifted the big, heavy duffle Kelly packed and placed it on the luggage stand. The two smaller overnight backpacks he put on the bed. The cookies she kept in an old tin box decorated with Christmas scenes he shoved under his arm.

  “I’m keeping these.” With a pointed look and a winking smirk, he teased Matty. “She counted them, ya’ know. So we can’t sneak even one without her knowing.”

  Matty belly-laughed and hopped up and down on his toes. “Ya’ have ta’ be good to get a cookie.”

  “Oh, I can be very good,” he growled.

  Kelly laugh snorted and then tried to cover up with a large-and-in-charge vibe that always snagged Matty’s attention.

  “Take your PJs out and lay them on the bed. Then scoot into the bathroom and wash up. Roman’s right. I’m starving so let’s get a move on.” She clapped her hands twice, barked “Chop, chop,” and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And get the brush, Matty. You have sleepy-head hair.”

  When he dashed away, Roman reached for her hand, gave a gentle squeeze and tugged her through the connecting door. The need to kiss her, to taste the sweetness that melted his brain, drove him hard.

  She got there first when his arms enfolded her into a brutish hug. Thinking he’d hold her close and kiss her senseless, he was taken by pleasant surprise by how swiftly she turned the tables. And she whimpered when begging for his mouth. How fucking cool was that?

  It was her kiss from the start, and he was happy to let her lead. Hell, he encouraged her every step of the way. How she went about doing the ravishing was nothing short of hot. The girl knew what she liked, knew what she wanted, and didn’t hold back. But he was sharply aware that they had an audience and that there were practical considerations he needed to bear in mind so he did what he could to keep things from spiraling out of control.

  Her stomach growled on cue, providing him with the perfect out. She wasn’t happy about it but let him end the kiss and gently separate their over-heated bodies. When her head tilted so she could glare at him, he chuckled at the venomous look in her eyes.

  “You get scary mean when you’re hungry.”

  He meant the comment to be funny. Her initial expression suggested a total lack of humor and then she broke out a big smile.

  “Guilty,” she said, her face brightening with amusement. “And in the interest of full disclosure—fair warning. It’s worse at certain times of the month. Chalk it up to things you should know.”

  “Ah,” he chuckled. Screwing up his face he chortled, “Thank you for the foot note.”

  Her eyes sparkled, and she wet her lips. “Anything I should know? Secret toothpaste fetish? Wearing socks to bed?”

  The murmured silliness charmed the pants right off him. “Socks in bed? Sacrilege and you already knew the answer. As for hints and hacks for the care and feeding of a Bishop, I suggest starting with the basics.”

  She giggled quietly and smirked. “Oh god. Bishop basics. Can’t wait to hear what’s involved.”

  “Hey now,” he teased. “You asked!”

  “I know, I know,” she chuckled. “It’s my own damn fault. Well, go on then. Clue me in on these so-called basics.”

  He pressed her against the wall with his body and ground his twenty-four-seven erection into her belly. After a quick nip to her earlobe, he whispered on a growl, “Basic number one. Morning hard-on. Heads or tails if you catch my drift.”

  She instantly colored. Kelly was an enthusiastic, curious and oh-so-very-eager and willing student of the oral arts. They were still on page one but she was an avid and quick learner who he was sure would test his control in a thousand ways.

  “You on top though is the A.M. default setting.”

  “Sounds good,” she snickered. “I’m told that exercise first thing in the morning is a good thing. A very good thing.”

  He heaved back and stuck out his hand. She did a double take, laughed and gave him her hand. They shook as if a billion dollar deal was just struck.

  “So we’re good then? Once a month I’m to expect a voracious female wanting to tie on the feed bag morning noon and night.”

  “And I’m to ride the Bishop carousel every morning.” She gave him a mock frown. “Something doesn’t add up here. A couple of days versus every damn morning?”

  He held up his hand. “Now hold up there little lady. There’s a protocol around the feed bag scenario.”

  “Is there?” she asked with an arched brow and a good degree of skepticism.

  “Yes, there is, and yes, I’m making this up as I go along. But cut a guy a break, would you? I’ve got a plan, so don’t you worry about that.”

  She shoved him away and physically turned him around. “Get ready. I’m gonna use the bathroom and check on Matty’s progress. Oh, and hey!” she called out. He searched her face. “Is this a date? ‘Cause if it is, there are proprieties.”

  “Proprieties?” he huffed on an amused chuckle.

  “Yeah. You heard me.”

  “Understood. Prepare to be dated, Ms. James. Now shoo.”

  She danced away with a happy laugh.

  Sure, why not? He thought. Makes perfect sense. Reverse was an interesting gear but hey, whatever works. First fuck followed by being spared an oh-shit pregnancy and then comes the dating. Sounds about right.

  She’d eaten way more than normal and would probably still be gorging on loaded potato skins and sweet tea if Roman hadn’t distracted her with belly grabbing laughter. All through dinner he kept up a running commentary of the most random stuff—all of it either wildly inappropriate or beyond hilarious—much to her delight and Matty’s amusement.

  She found out he liked cigars and that his guy friends had, on more than one occasion, subjected him to eyebrow-singeing encounters with exploding stogies. Matty found the story quite funny.

  In a particularly enlightening share, he told them about his fondness for holidays and how his parents made those occasions amazing and special, even though they were dirt poor.

  He had a serious patriotic streak too. Matty was mesmerized when the man went off on a tangent about 4th of July parades, being grateful for the sacrifices of the armed forces and showing deference to one’s elders.

  Out of the blue, he started babbling about getting a dog. Had they been debating pets? No. He just shot out with it. Matty, of course, was quickly on board.

  The scene felt oddly routine. As though family discussion and decisions about pets were what they did.

  She fiddled with the sugar packets and checked out the glossy card with photos of the daily drink specials.

  Roman and Matty left the table for another trip to the men’s room. Poor Roman, he was a good sport, but Matty was pushing the envelope. It was hard to figure out what the attraction was. Was it a communal bathroom thing? A health problem she should worry about? Or was it merely the novelty of a guy to do things with?

  Kelly shifted uncomfortably. It was childish of her and seriously petty, but she wasn’t used to sharing Matty’s affections, so the boy’s fascination with Roman and the male bonding dynamic made her twitchy.

  They were hard to miss on their way through the bar to the table where she waited. Roman was so big and solid that even the most casual observer stopped and
stared. He was one yummerific specimen of sexy hotness.

  Next to him and held by the hand was a hop-skipping-and-jumping Matty.

  One of them was big, dark and imposing.

  The other was a blonde haired jumping bean that barely came up to the man’s waist.

  A wild, untamed animosity exploded in her gut when she noticed a booth full of girls around her age who were making no effort to hide the blatant ogling and damn near catcalls that Roman’s swaggering virility inspired.

  She harrumphed and sat back heavily. Stupid girls. She eyed them, her forehead creased with dislike. Who were they kidding? Having experienced Roman’s powerful sexuality first-hand, she highly doubted any of the four flirtatious females had what it took to satisfy the man’s appetite.

  Perhaps as a group, but that thought set off a firestorm of possessive jealousy that brought out her snippy side.

  “Sit down,” she grumbled when they got to the table. “You’re moldy ass is attracting flies.”

  Roman looked back at the booth of rowdy women and snickered. “Ooh,” he quipped. “Is an ass-kicking about to go down?”

  Matty was scrambling into the booth and cracked up at his BFF’s snarky comment. “Penny jar!” he crowed.

  They decided to share a death-by-chocolate dessert. With three spoons on the attack, the gooey lava cake didn’t last long. The chocolate on chocolate on chocolate deliciousness was her undoing. So much so that she let Matty indulge his three-year-old sweet-tooth, something she worried would be a regret later.

  On the way back to the hotel, they stopped at a convenience store and ended up leaving with a bag of Texas souvenirs. They also had a sack full of snack foods that boggled her mind. Coming from a life of homemade, the sheer variety and availability of nutritionally empty crap was eye-opening.

  Back in their rooms, she produced her bag of Matty tricks, and they settled in for a rousing game of Candyland. If there was ever a Candyland tournament, Matty would clean up in his age group and probably make the adult competitors nervous. He had an uncanny ability to focus for long stretches. Where others his age might start bouncing off the walls after a minute or two, he held a distinct advantage.

  Bath time was a full-on production due to the unusually large tub. She loved Matty’s boyish enthusiasm and was proud of how well he was handling the changes. Sure, it had only been one day, but he was different already. Now that he talked non-stop to Roman, the floodgates holding back his communication skills opened and a deluge poured out. It was what she hoped would happen when it was time for him to go to school. That he went from purposely mute to a non-stop chatterbox overnight without any effort at all had to be a by-product of his young age. He didn’t know how desperate she’d been for him to converse with other people.

  “Sammy and the Dinosaurs,” Matty squealed with delight when she pulled his favorite storybook from the bag. He ran to the sofa and jumped onto the cushions, smacking his hand on the empty spot next to him. She started to take her usual place until Matty asked if Roman could do the reading.

  Thwarted yet again by the bond forming between the two she gave in only to end up on one side of Roman as Matty took up the other because although he agreed to narrate the story, Roman insisted she provide the sound effects.

  He knew she was having an emotionally hard time. His thoughtfulness touched her.

  When the story ended, she pulled a stack of homemade flash cards from her satchel of goodies and tossed them to Roman.

  “Can you two boys behave while I shower and change?”

  Matty yawned and nodded yes. Roman smirked.

  She high tailed it into the privacy of the big tiled bathroom before she made a fool out of herself.

  The shower was as fantastic as the tub, and she threw herself into a head to toe scrubbing. Tearing open a package of cheap razors she’d grabbed months ago at the Dollar Store, she sat down on the tile bench at the back of the stall and shaved her legs. Instead of using the shampoo and conditioner she brought with her, she cracked open the hotel stuff and had a grand old time washing her hair.

  At that precise moment, life was good. She wasn’t worried about whether the hot water would hold out or how long she lingered beneath the spray. And a good thing too, because her lower back was on fire and the cramps making her miserable were driving her to the edge.

  Reluctantly and only because she felt like a water pig, Kelly ended the shower and toweled off.

  She picked up the plastic bottle of hotel body lotion, flipped the cap and took a sniff. Mmm. Almonds and vanilla.

  In no time at all the little bottle was empty after being repeatedly slapped against the palm of her hand to get every drop.

  Her hair was next. Briskly rubbing the towel on her head to draw off as much water as possible, she used the unfamiliar hair dryer and ended up with a cascade of soft, bouncy curls.

  Pulling on a pair of sweats, some pink socks and a baggy sweater, she tidied up and paused for a final glimpse in the mirror. Deciding that what she saw was the best she could do, Kelly flipped off the light and headed back to the room.

  Roman and Matty were on the bed by the window, playing a speed round with the flashcards she made. When his phone went off, he looked at her and made an apologetic wince. “Sorry. Do you mind?” He handed her the flashcards and went into the next room to take the call.

  It won’t be long before I’m carrying a phone too. The sudden thought made her flinch. Things were changing. Fast. Crying about it wasn’t going to make one bit of difference so she might as well get with the program.

  Concerned by the flat, dry tone Liam was using, Roman had to listen carefully to what wasn’t being said as he relayed details for the flight tomorrow. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining how Kelly was handling Matty and the subject of their shared DNA, but the guy needed to know.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he responded when Liam started issuing demands.

  “All right,” his sometimes boss and all-the-time friend griped. “I’ve had enough. Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on before I lose it. When did you become the person in charge, Roman? And what the hell does Rhiann know that I don’t?”

  Boom. No dancing around—straight to the point. Typical. He was tempted to call Kelly in and say, ‘Hey, wanna hear a male version of what you sound like when you’re an asshole?’

  How should he answer Liam’s questions? He just didn’t know. Gripping the back of his neck, he went and stood by the window looking out over a whole lot of night time nothing.

  They’d always dealt with each other directly and with a minimum of bullshit. It was Roman’s requirement when he agreed to take on security for the CEO of BPG. He didn’t have time for word games and power plays. Luckily, neither did the man hiring him.

  “Okay, look. Bottom line. I’m closer to this situation than you are so I have no problem telling you that being a dick isn’t helpful. I can’t juggle your butt-hurt and their confusion and worry at the same time, so cut me a fucking break.”

  He swore he heard Kelly’s soft snicker at his little outburst.

  “Fuck you, Bishop. That’s my goddamn sister and brother you’re cock-blocking, and if you don’t tell me why I promise you a scene that none of us ever forget. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” he murmured. “About that. You might want to sit down.”

  “Ah, Jesus. Come the fuck on man. Now what?”

  He had an idea and asked if Rhi was there. Liam’s grumbling response was funny.

  “What did I tell you about managing me via my fiancée? Cut it the fuck out.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Ashforth, sir,” he snarkily replied. “Now shut up and put this call on speaker. She needs to hear this too.”

  There was grumbling, a few pithy ‘motherfuckers’ uttered, some shuffling, and then Rhi’s voice joined in.

  “Roman Bishop. What have I told you about riling him up?”

  He heard the affection and teasing in her voice and smiled.


  “Oh dear lord,” he groaned into the phone with long-suffering emphasis. “Will you two please give it a rest? You know damn well he riles himself up, plus he’s a playacting baby because you manage him while you’re sleeping and his big, bad ego can’t handle being pussy whipped.”

  Liam barked, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

  Rhi was snorting with laughter and shrieking, “Bah! Pussy whipped!”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Bishop?” Liam hollered.

  “Ah, so much,” he answered drily. “So much.”

  “Boys!” Rhiann chided. “That’s enough. Now you hush,” he heard her say bitingly to Liam. “Start talking Roman. You know how he gets…”

  Just like he would in a mission debrief, he went with an outline of facts and then added supporting detail.

  “She’s not telling the boy what’s going on because, and I quote, she didn’t invite this into their lives.”

  “Meaning?” Liam’s hurt outrage rang through.

  “Settle down and let me explain. There’s an excellent reason behind her decision. Liam, you two are a lot alike. She doesn’t suffer fools. At all. And despite her age, she has a steely determination that served her well considering the surroundings. This girl isn’t a fool, and she’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. No lie and not joking.”

  “I like her already,” Rhiann snickered.

  Liam’s only response was a tersely muttered, “I’m listening.”

  “She’s explained that you’re my friend and I’ve mentioned Rhi. For now, that’s all he knows. When I asked why, she gave a smart answer. They have a fierce bond, Liam. Let’s call it what it is—in every single way that matters, Kelly is the boy’s mother. She’s raised him and been his only caregiver since he was barely a toddler. He adores her.”

  “Shit,” Rhiann mumbled. “You’re making me cry.”

  “I realize that from the outside looking in she’s just a girl, but Kelly Anne James is more badass woman and fiercely so than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m not in charge, Liam. Not at all. She makes the decisions for her and Matty. And I promised her that wouldn’t change.”