Marrying the Billionaire (Bishop Brothers Book 2)

by Allie Winters

  I set aside the churning of my stomach, the tight band across my ribs, focusing on his question. What do I want? There’s a pull inside me to confess, to tell him everything. I’m tired of hiding it. And at this point, what do I have to lose?

  “I want to keep bringing you your Scotch every night.” To feel needed, appreciated by someone. “And watch funny shows with you again and hear you laugh. It’s so rare.” I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of hearing his deep chuckle.

  “What else?”

  I brush the back of my free hand across my cheeks, the wetness there mortifying. I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at his serious face anymore. “I want to have dinner together every night and go to sleep in your bed.” It’s like the words are being ripped from me somehow, needing to come out. “I want to wake up wrapped up in your arms. I want to see the way you look at me when I wear sexy lingerie for you.”

  His grip on my hand tightens, but he stays silent. Every part of me is screaming to run out of here right now and stop making a fool of myself, but how will he know how I feel if I never tell him?

  “I want to belong somewhere. With you. I want us to be together. For real.”

  His hand slides up my arm until it’s cupping my jaw, and I cautiously open my eyes, finding him watching me, an unreadable look in his eyes.

  “Did you think I was telling you I wanted to end things?”

  “You said we’re finished.”

  “With the pictures and pointless events. Not with each other.” His thumb sweeps across my cheek and over my lower lip, a rush of longing running through me. “I’m not finished with you. Not even close.”

  “Really?”

  He nods seriously.

  “I want a dog too,” I blurt out, the thought coming from nowhere.

  He blinks at me a few times, then smiles. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah, I want all of that. Everything you said.”

  “Even the dog?” I sniff.

  He nods again, his beautiful blue eyes crinkling at the corners, as he brings me in closer, his lips still smiling as he kisses me softly at first, then more deeply, his hand moving around to cup the back of my head in a gentle hold.

  What’s happening right now? Did I just confess I wanted a real relationship and he… agreed?

  There’s a knock at the door and the server enters once more. “Are you ready to order?”

  I lean back in my seat, flustered, as she pours water for us and Archer orders a balsamic steak salad. When she asks me, it takes me a moment to focus on the menu, my mind still racing. “Um…”

  “What do you have that’s vegetarian?” Archer asks.

  “Oh, we have a great beet salad with arugula and goat cheese.”

  “That good?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, that sounds delicious. Thanks.” I hand her my menu, waiting till she leaves before turning to him. “I never told you I’m a vegetarian. Did Lori tell you?”

  “No, I just noticed you never eat meat.”

  A delighted smile creeps over my face. “You noticed that about me?”

  “I notice a lot about you.” He glances down, straightening his knife and fork. “How generous you are, always doing things for me.” He looks at me again, warmth in the beautiful blue of his eyes. “How passionate you are about your shelter. I admire that. How brave you’ve been with all the shitty stuff your parents have put you through.”

  He reaches out and grips my hand. “But I didn’t see all the obvious stuff, apparently. That you wanted all those things, that you felt so strongly about it. I don’t know how I missed it.”

  I shake my head before he’s even finished talking. “No, it’s not your fault.” My palms dampen, a fluttering sensation in my stomach threatening to escape. “I haven’t been entirely truthful.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Serena

  “What do you mean?”

  “I, um, I told you I remembered you from high school, right?”

  He nods, appearing confused at my change in topic. “You said I helped you up off the floor.”

  “Mmm hmm.” I smooth out the fabric of my dress, surreptitiously wiping the sweat off my palms. “But what I didn’t tell you was after that, I had this massive crush on you.”

  He blinks rapidly. “What?”

  Heat licks my cheeks, my legs trembling with the need to flee, but I keep going. “I never completely forgot you after that. And when Dad said he was working on this deal and wanted me to marry into the Bishop family, I agreed because I thought he meant… you.” Now that I’m confessing, the urge to get it all out overcomes me. “How I feel about you has always been real. It was never acting.”

  “So at the wedding…”

  He would bring that up, wouldn’t he? “I was an idiot.” A naive fool. At least he didn’t realize it then.

  “Oh God, Serena.” He turns his chair toward mine, running careful hands along my arms, looking at me like I just told him I have a terminal illness or something. “I had no idea. I wouldn’t have- I was a jerk, wasn’t I?”

  “No, no.” I laugh, because otherwise, I might cry hysterically at the remembered embarrassment. “There’s no way you could have known. We didn’t know each other. Not really. And though it hasn’t been that long since then, I like what we’ve built together so far.”

  He studies me, his face serious, reaching out to join our hands. “I like it too. It’s more than I ever expected in my life.”

  I tilt my head, not sure what he means. “You never expected, what? A relationship?”

  He shrugs. “No. I’ve never had time. Never met anyone. Didn’t want to meet anyone actually.”

  “Why not?”

  He looks down at our joined hands, blowing out a long breath. It’s like we’re on the edge of some kind of precipice.

  “A question for a question?” I ask.

  A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “Your questions are hard.”

  “I just admitted I’ve had a crush on you since high school. That deserves some reciprocity.”

  His lips tilt up more. “Touché.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to meet anyone?”

  “I’d have to let them close,” he says after a minute.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  His fingers flex and release. “They leave you. Whether or not they mean to.”

  “You said you’ve never been in a serious relationship, right?” He nods, still not looking at me. “So does this have something to do with your mom?”

  His head jerks up, gaze sharp as it roams my face. “Why would you ask that?”

  “You shut down the other night when I asked about her. I- I know she died, Archer. I’m so sorry.”

  His hands tighten around mine, but he stays silent.

  “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been. You obviously loved her a lot.” I release one of my hands from his hold to stroke it softly through his hair, and he leans into my touch.

  “I did. I never want something like that to happen again.”

  “Will you tell me about her?”

  His thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “She’d love you,” he whispers. “She was soft spoken, like you. And her big thing was gardening. Especially flowers. They were always all over the house.” He pauses, leaning in closer to sniff. “Your perfume. That’s what it is.”

  “What?”

  “It reminded me of something, but I never made the connection. It’s the flowers.”

  I hold a hand up to my neck. “It reminds you of your mom?”

  He shakes his head. “No, not her specifically. Just a better time. Before she got sick.”

  Our food arrives then and he thankfully continues talking without more prompting on my end. Things about her, about his childhood, an untapped reserve within him I greedily soak up, wanting to know everything about him. His stories naturally involve his brothers a lot, and it only calls to mind how little I’ve heard about them from him.
<
br />   “You haven’t mentioned your brothers much before. Are you still close?”

  He picks at his salad for a moment before responding. “I haven’t been a good brother to them.”

  What’s he talking about? “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  A look of defeat crosses his face, so dejected it makes my heart ache. “Mom was the one who brought us all together. And after she was gone, I… well, it was hard to face them. All they did was remind me of her.”

  “You were grieving.”

  He sets his fork down and rubs at his temples. “I promised her I’d take care of them. And I didn’t.”

  “You’re only a year older than Gabriel. I’m sure you didn’t actually need to-”

  “I said I would. I failed her.”

  I set my own silverware down. “Archer, have you ever seen a therapist?”

  His brow furrows. “No.”

  I take a moment to collect my thoughts, wanting to tread lightly over what seems a personal, painful matter. “It sounds like you have a lot of unresolved grief about the situation. Talking to someone might help you sort that out so you can forgive yourself.”

  He stares at me, his gaze piercing, the lines bracketing his mouth so deep, I’m afraid they’ll stay there permanently.

  “Seeing you in pain hurts me,” I say softly. “And honestly, I could probably use some therapy about my parents too.”

  “Maybe we could go together,” he whispers roughly, as if there’s something stuck in his throat.

  I reach out and squeeze his hand. “I’d like that.”

  “I don’t deserve you, Serena.”

  A wave of warmth rushes over me at the earnestness in his voice. “Yes, you do. We’re a team, remember? We’re in this together.”

  He lifts our joined hands to press a soft kiss to the inner side of my wrist. “I’m really glad Gabriel pulled his stunt at the wedding.”

  My answering smile is so wide, my cheeks ache. “I am too.”

  We finish lunch, relaxing further, his rare smiles coming easier now, and I delight in finally breaking through what feels like the last barrier. After, he walks me outside to where his driver is waiting to take me to the animal shelter, the kiss he gives me at the curb making my toes curl.

  “I meant to talk to you about a couple other things, but it can wait till tonight,” he says, wrapping his hands around my lower back to pull me tight into his body.

  “We usually get sidetracked, don’t we?”

  “In good ways, though.”

  “Was today a good way?” We only scratched the surface about our new relationship, his brothers, his mom. There’s still so much I want to know.

  His gaze flicks between my eyes, seeming to choose his words carefully. “It seems like every time I’m with you, I end up discovering something. About you, about myself. Today more than any other time, I think. In a very good way.”

  I hide a smile behind my hand, thinking about all the different sides of him I’ve discovered. The ones I’m fairly sure he doesn’t let anyone else see.

  The relaxed and happy side watching a sitcom together.

  The vulnerable and unsure side embarking on this new relationship.

  The caring and protective side who’s made sure I’m okay repeatedly. Welcoming me in his home. Working things out after I ran away from his office. Assuring me he wouldn’t leave me at the silent auction.

  And the incredibly sexy side, our encounters together hotter than anything I’ve ever imagined. And if it’s this good before we’ve even had sex, what will it be like when it actually happens?

  He kisses me again, ignoring the people passing by on the sidewalk, those waiting outside the restaurant to get in, the cars behind us in line angling for James’s spot. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  I nod, already looking forward to what this evening brings. With everything out in the open now, there’s no reason to pretend like I’m not dying to be with him. “Tonight.”

  There’s a quick flash of heat in his eye, and he gives me a devilish grin as he opens the car door for me. God, I love seeing that look on him.

  I watch him as the car pulls away from the curb until he disappears from sight, so handsome in his tailored suit, a relaxed lightness to him I rarely see. He said he wanted to talk about other things, but it couldn’t have been that important if it never came up, right?

  I don’t bother fighting the smile that seems permanently etched on my face the rest of the day as I apply for grants, have a quick meeting with Wendy about a couple of staffing issues, and then sit down and seriously make a list of what I want this fundraiser to accomplish. That was so generous of Claire to offer to help too.

  Lori’s gone when I return home, and despite the leftovers still in the fridge, I prepare a spiced vegetable stew for dinner, wanting to do something for Archer. I also spend a fair amount of time in the shower, scrubbing and shaving until I’m ready for what tonight holds.

  I pour myself a glass of wine as I wait for him and give myself a refill at seven when he still hasn’t shown. At eight, I finally serve myself a bowl of the now cold stew and check my phone for the umpteenth time, but there’s no response to the two texts I sent asking where he is. I don’t want to come across as clingy, but he said he’d see me tonight and here it is nearly half past eight. He’s always home by now, even on the days he works late.

  Thirty minutes later, my phone finally rings and the peeved part of me wants to let it go to voicemail, giving him a taste of his own medicine, but the bigger part answers it in a hurry, wanting to make sure he’s okay.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says immediately, his voice weary. “I’ve been in meetings since I came back from lunch. We have a big legal issue on the project Connor’s working on and it’s all hands on deck.”

  “Are you headed home soon?”

  “No,” he sighs. “It’s morning there for them in the Philippines, so now we’re starting conference calls with the team there. I have no idea how late I’ll be tonight.”

  My heart sinks, but it sounds like he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. “I understand.”

  “I promise I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to. My department’s involved because some illegal bribes took place.” There’s a pause as he lets out a long breath. “I’d rather be home with you.”

  A reluctant smile creeps over my lips. “I’d rather you be here too. I, um-” I waver for a second on whether I should add more, then decide to just go for it. “I have some new lingerie you haven’t seen.”

  “Fuck,” he groans. “You can’t say stuff like that to me right now. Dad thinks I’m taking a quick bathroom break. He doesn’t allow any phones in boardroom meetings.”

  “Sorry,” I grin.

  “No, you’re not,” he chuckles.

  My grin spreads wider. “No, I’m not.”

  “Raincheck for tomorrow?”

  “Of course. I-” I draw a swift breath, the notion that I can say anything I want so new. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Miss you.”

  They’re simple words, but they still make my heart flutter. How did I get so lucky as to finally be on the same page with him?

  I stay up until my eyelids are drooping and call it quits, heading to bed with plans to save my sexy nightie for another time. I should be thankful for what the day brought me, and really, I am. But as I lie alone, all I can think about is how much I miss his warmth, his comforting presence, the solid bulk of his body. I inhale the faint scent of his cologne lingering on his pillow, not caring it makes me look like a stalker.

  We have plenty of time in store. Everything doesn’t have to happen exactly this minute, no matter that my body says otherwise. And despite the tiredness of my eyes, sleep is still out of reach for a long while.

  “Shit.”

  The muffled whisper wakes me, and my first instinctive thought is that it’s an intruder until I register the deep voice. “Archer?”

  “Sorry,” he whispers from somewhere ne
ar the foot of the bed. “Go back to sleep.”

  I rub my eyes, but it’s always impossible to see anything in here once the blackout shades are in place. “What time is it?”

  “Two.”

  And he’s just now getting home? “Have you been at work this whole time?”

  The mattress depresses next to me and I reach out, the fabric of his dress shirt soft against my fingertips. “Yeah. I had to fight with Dad to let everyone go. We weren’t accomplishing anything else this late.”

  There’s the quiet clink of his watch as he places it on his nightstand, then the rustle of his shirt as he unbuttons it, his skin warm as I help him remove it.

  “Seriously, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “It’s fine,” I yawn, so wide my jaw cracks.

  He finishes undressing and slips under the covers, scooting toward me. “Come here.” He wraps an arm around my middle and spoons me, his delicious warmth permeating me, his big body against mine reassuring on every level. He presses a chaste kiss against the back of my neck, sighing deeply, something about the way he does it making it seem like he finds comfort in me too.

  As much as I was looking forward to being in bed with him, my eyes can’t stay open, and I snuggle into his warmth, drifting back to sleep.

  What seems like moments later, a steady beeping wakes me, loud in the quiet of the room. What the hell is that?

  I go to sit up, but an iron bar is holding me down against the mattress, and it’s not till I run a hand over it that I realize it’s Archer’s arm. How much does muscle weigh?

  “Archer.”

  He’s dead weight, unmoving, even as the alarm increases in volume over by his side of the bed.

  “Archer,” I repeat, trying to shift out from under him, but he only constricts tighter around me in response.

  Okay, as much as I love being wrapped in his embrace, I can’t stand that alarm. It’s the kind that only gets more annoying the longer it goes on.

  I somehow maneuver myself across his chest and reach my arm out as far as it’ll go to press the red X on the screen. The sound ceases, and his phone exits out of the alarm app to whatever he must have last had open, my breath catching as I stare at it.