So Happy Together (Bishop Family Book 4)

by Brooke St. James

  "Good," he whispered, still staring at me.

  We were remarkably close.

  I bit my lip shyly. "Because things aren't the same with me and Trevor as they are with you and me," I said.

  "Sorry that took so long!" Anthony said, startling both of us as he opened the bus door.

  It was a good thing I let go of Daniel's collar because he stood up so quickly, I probably would have ripped his shirt had I held onto it.

  Chapter 8

  I went to my bunk in the back of the bus wondering how I could ever fall asleep after being so close to kissing Daniel and not succeeding.

  I had tried to convince Daniel to sleep in Trevor's bunk, which was close to mine, but he insisted that he was comfortable on the couch. He said it was because he didn't want to intrude on Trevor's space, but I could tell he was trying to create a little distance. I had no idea whether it was because he was trying to be professional with me or if it had more to do with the guilt he carried about his brother. Part of me thought the latter was true, but I tried not to let that enter my thinking because I wasn't supposed to know about it in the first place.

  I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. I replayed parts of the conversation I had with him and Denise, and I caught myself smiling and repeating specific exchanges. He was a serious person, but I was already beginning to notice a change in his demeanor during the short time I had gotten to know him. I felt happy that he had loosened up a little around me, and I sincerely hoped it was because he liked me and not just because he was growing more comfortable in this situation.

  I woke up the following morning at 9am with no stomachache whatsoever. This rarely happened while I was on tour, and I contributed it both to the peppermint oil and the person who gave it to me.

  We made it to New Orleans before noon just like Anthony promised, and he dropped us off at our hotel, which was a lovely place near the French Quarter. I had played in New Orleans several times in the past, and I always stayed at the same place and had a great experience. I was especially happy about this one because I knew the suite had plenty of room for Daniel to have his own bedroom without feeling like he was taking over Trevor's space.

  The concert was the following evening, and I had no media engagements (other than a phone interview) before then, so I had an entire day to do nothing but be a tourist and eat Cajun food.

  "What are you going to do today?" Denise asked once we got settled in the room.

  "I'll probably make Daniel take me around the French Quarter."

  "Do you need me for anything?" she asked.

  "No, why?"

  "Gabe's cousin lives here," she said. "I was thinking about calling her."

  I knew her boyfriend, Gabe, was from the south, but I didn't know exactly where. I nodded instantly. "You should call her," I said.

  "Are you sure you don't need me?"

  "Absolutely."

  Daniel had been in his bedroom, but he came out as Denise and I were having this conversation. He had on jeans and a T-shirt with a lightweight hoodie, and I smiled at myself for noticing what he was wearing.

  "Court just volunteered you to drag her around the French Quarter all day," Denise said.

  Daniel smiled and shrugged. "That's why I'm here—to do as the lady wishes."

  "Okay, well I'm going to go call Gabe's cousin, if you're sure."

  "Definitely," I said. "Have fun. I'll be fine."

  Denise smiled and took off toward her bedroom, and I focused on Daniel.

  "Have you ever had gumbo?"

  "Yeah, once."

  "In New Orleans?"

  "No, it was in Memphis."

  "I'm pretty sure that doesn't count."

  "Does it help if the person who made it was from Louisiana?"

  I was actually jealous that someone had made him gumbo and I didn't even know who it was. It could've been some old man, and there I was, assuming it was a smoking hot 25-year-old lady.

  "Who made you gumbo?" I asked, even though I begged myself not to care.

  "One of the guys who came in to do a clinic at Alpha was from Louisiana—Lafayette, I think. He made a big pot of it for all of us." He lifted his eyebrows at me. "Is that authentic enough for you?"

  I smiled. "I wasn't asking to test the authenticity."

  "Why were you asking?" he asked.

  There was no way I could say that I was jealous of the person who had theoretically cooked him food, so I just smiled and shrugged and pretended I didn't really know why I was asking.

  I took a few minutes to get dressed. I put on skinny jeans with a graphic T-shirt that had a monkey holding a toy camera. I put my hair in a ponytail and pulled it through the back of a baseball cap before tying it into a bun. Then I clipped on a curly, brunette hairpiece that looked entirely real. I added fake glasses and my favorite pair of bubblegum pink Chuck Taylors, and I walked out of my bedroom, smiling at the sight of Daniel who was sitting on the couch, waiting for me. He stood up the second he saw me.

  "You look so different," he said, checking me out. "Like a normal girl."

  "That's because I am a normal girl."

  "I mean, I don't think we're going to get hassled very much with you wearing that. You look really normal."

  "Thanks," I said in a hesitant, sarcastic voice that said he wasn't really complimenting me.

  "This is exactly why I don't work in the field," he said. "What I should've said was, you look gorgeous, Ms. Cole. Radiant."

  "Please go back to calling me Courtney."

  He stood and took a step toward me. "You look gorgeous, Courtney."

  I stepped toward him slowly, squinting playfully at him like he was in trouble. "Oh, because I thought you just said I look normal."

  "Normal was a terrible choice," he said. "You're anything but normal. All I meant was that people might not recognize you with that cap on."

  "Now you're just trying to backpedal," I said, smiling.

  The living room was huge and open, and he was standing there while I meandered closer and closer to him.

  "I'm not backpedaling. You know what you look like. You don't need me to tell you how beautiful you are."

  I came to stand right in front of him, staring into his dark eyes. "Yes I do," I said.

  He regarded me with a serious expression. "You're beautiful." He said the words in a quiet tone as he glanced toward Denise's door, which was closed.

  "What?" I asked, turning my ear toward him.

  "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my whole life," he whispered sincerely.

  This made me smile at him. "You didn't have to go that far," I said, teasing him.

  I wanted so badly to take a hold of him and kiss him, but I knew I couldn't do it. Denise was in the next room, and besides, I feared I would push him away if I made a move like that.

  "Ready?" I asked with a smile and shrug.

  ***

  What followed was one of the best days of my entire life. I was fortunate in my career to have been all over the world, but this day spent in New Orleans, Louisiana perhaps topped them all.

  Daniel and I spent the day enjoying each other's company, and we didn't force anything. It was late spring, and the weather was absolutely gorgeous. We took the day as it came, eating, shopping, and doing a whole lot of nothing.

  At least ten people told me I looked like Courtney Cole, but I just laughed at them. I had never been able to get away with that before, even with the hairpiece. I attributed it to the fact that Daniel was behaving less like a bodyguard and more like my boyfriend (at least that's what I hoped).

  There was a brass band playing in Jackson Square, and we sat on a bench and watched them for two hours straight. Tourists would walk up to them and dance or otherwise interact for a song or two before putting money in the tip jar. They played classic gospel songs like When the Saints Go Marching In, and I'll Fly Away. Daniel was happy I knew the lyrics to them, and when he commented on it, I told him just because I hadn't b
een raised going to church didn't mean I wasn't a student of all types of music.

  This got us into conversation about God. He said he didn't understand how people could face the certain hardships of this life without relying on God. I could feel that during the conversation he was on the very verge of sharing with me about his accident, but he didn't do it.

  We had an extremely eventful day, and it was past dinnertime when we decided to go back to the room. I called for room service before heading into my bedroom to take a shower. Afterward, I changed into tights and a comfortable sweatshirt and left my long, blonde hair hanging in damp waves over my shoulders.

  By the time I came back into the main room, our food had arrived. Daniel was in the kitchen, looking at everything we had ordered. He had taken a shower as well and was now wearing a pair of dark sweatpants with a fitted, athletic T-shirt. I approached him, smiling and thinking he looked like a professional soccer player.

  "Hey, Courtney's back," he said, grinning at me as I came to stand next to him.

  "Did you really think you were on a date with somebody else all day?"

  He pulled back and glanced at me like he wasn't quite sure what to think about me calling our day a date.

  "Do you think I do stuff like that with Trevor?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

  "I hope not."

  "Okay then, don't look at me so funny when I call it a date."

  Daniel pulled back and took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Where's Denise?" he asked, glancing at the door as if he were afraid she would walk in any second.

  I took a mini crab cake off of the plate and popped it into my mouth. "She's still with her boyfriend's cousin," I said as I chewed. "She texted me earlier. They're going out to see some music tonight."

  Daniel shifted so that he could lean against the countertop.

  "What?" I said.

  "I guess it's just… I guess I just feel like it's time for me to go ahead and tell you that I can't make you any promises. I, uh, I really don't date women. I don't date."

  I remembered what his sister told me, but I pretended not to since I wasn't supposed to know. Instead, I cocked my head to the side and gave him a surprised and curious expression. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that if I could be tempted to date a person in this universe, Courtney, it would be you. You would be the one. But I just don't date. I can't do it. I don't do it." He hesitated, taking a deep contemplative breath, and I watched as he touched his stomach.

  "Tell me what's going on, Daniel," I said coming to stand in front of him.

  He wouldn't look at me—he stared to the side.

  "Daniel," I said, moving in front of his line of vision to try to get him to make eye contact. He finally did, and I could see the pain in his eyes.

  "I'm not able to make any commitments, Courtney. You're beautiful and wonderful, and I want so badly to act on my impulses, but I can't. I have some stuff from way back that I carry around with me. I just can't do it. I like you, but I can't promise you anything. It wouldn't be fair to you, and it wouldn't be fair to… other people."

  "What are you talking about? What do you carry around with you?" I asked.

  "Stuff. Things from my past."

  "I thought you told me you know God, and that He helps you get through stuff."

  "I do, and He does. There are just some things that have consequences that never go away… there are just some boundaries I don't cross."

  I could see that he was pulling away from me, and I felt so mad that tears sprang to my eyes. I knew he could see my eyes beginning to water, and I didn't care. I just sat there and stared at him as my vision became blurry.

  "Why do you have to make me go and get feelings for you, then?"

  "I didn't try to make you get feelings for me. I tried my best to make you not get feelings for me."

  "If that's what you're trying to do, then you are terrible at it. You stink at it, Daniel. I have all sorts of feelings."

  Chapter 9

  Things got slightly tense after our conversation in the kitchen. I didn't want it that way, so I told him we could take a step back and just go back to enjoying our time together with no more mention of it being a date. Daniel agreed to that, and was only slightly quieter than before.

  I had rooftop access with my suite, and the space up there felt like a Spanish courtyard with terra-cotta tiles and a beautiful fountain. We took our food out there and enjoyed the evening view of New Orleans.

  We talked about different things we had encountered throughout the day, from musicians, to street performers, to just watching the action on the street from a bench.

  We had stopped for a milkshake earlier in the day at a small diner, and we met a waiter by the name of Peanut. He had an electric personality and had been working at the diner for a really long time, so he knew most everyone who came in. Even if he didn't know them, he acted like he did. I was relatively sure Peanut had never met a stranger. At one point, he had the whole place singing If You're Happy and You Know It, and Daniel and I laughed at the memory of the whole restaurant clapping along.

  Both of us agreed that our day in New Orleans had been one of the most memorable experiences of our lives.

  "The only problem is that I didn't get to dance," I said.

  Daniel glanced at me. "What do you mean?"

  "That's the only thing our day was missing," I said.

  "Dancing?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "I can't help you on that one," he said.

  "Oh, come on. You dance, don't you?"

  He shook his head.

  "You can't come to New Orleans and not dance.

  He let out a little laugh. "Oh, yes I can."

  "That's terrible."

  "I thought we just talked about what a good day we had."

  "I know, but that's before I remembered we were missing something."

  He shook his head, giving me a little smile. "I don't think we're missing anything."

  "Well, I want to dance," I said.

  He shrugged. "I'll go with you if you want to go somewhere, but I think you should wear that curly hair again. That worked well today. And just so you know, I'm not dancing."

  "I don't want to dance with anyone else," I said.

  He chuckled again. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't dance. That's one thing I don't do. I'm pretty sure you have about fifty professional dancers staying in this hotel who would all be willing to come out with us if you need a partner."

  "I don't want to go anywhere," I said. "I want to stay here."

  I smiled at him before I popped up, leaving him sitting on the couch on the rooftop terrace. I went into the room and turned on the stereo system. I had stayed there before, so I knew right where everything was and how to turn it on. I selected a playlist called 'Slow Jazz,' and made sure that it was being channeled through the rooftop speakers.

  By the time I made it back on to the terrace, Daniel could hear the music, and he was smiling at me and shaking his head. "How did you do that?" he asked.

  I shrugged and smiled as I made my way toward him. I stopped in front of him holding out my hand as if asking him to dance, and he reluctantly gave me his hand as he stood up.

  "When you said you wanted to go dancing, I imagined hip-hop moves like you do in your show," he said.

  I laughed. "You thought that I wanted to go out and get busy at a club or something?"

  "Yes," he said, situating in front of me and regarding me with a teasing grin.

  "Did you think I was asking you to take me out clubbing when I'm already in my comfy clothes?" I glanced down at my sweatshirt and tights, and Daniel scanned me from head to toe.

  "You could wear a canvas sack and still look amazing," he said.

  I grinned and snuggled up close to him in a 'dancing position' where I put my right arm around his waist and grabbed his hand with my left. I didn't even give him the chance to deny me; I just began
swaying slowly to the music while I rested my head on his chest. I breathed in the smell of him, feeling utterly relieved to finally be in his arms. I should've thought of this dancing thing way sooner.

  I didn't look at him. I was afraid if I did he would say something or stop dancing, so I just held onto him and moved slowly to the music. There was electricity flowing from my fingertips and face and wherever else our bodies made contact. I felt safe, secure, relieved, and altogether breathless.

  We stood there, holding each other and gently swaying while the music played. Two songs had passed before I finally spoke. "I don't care if you can't promise me anything," I said.

  Daniel didn't reply right away, but I knew he heard me, so I continued.

  "I don't need you to make any promises, and I don't need us to give a name to what's going on between us. I just wanted to dance with you. I just wanted to be close to you."

  Saying those words to him made me feel vulnerable and tingly inside, and I held onto him a little tighter as I spoke. His chest expanded as he took a slow deep breath, and I rested my face against him, wishing I could stay there forever.

  "I have a brother," he said. He stopped swaying to the music, and I pulled back just far enough to look at him, but I didn't let him go.

  "I know," I said with a smile. "You have two of them. Owen and Wesley."

  Music played in the background, and we could hear some sounds of the city, but I just stood there, staring into his dark eyes. I already knew what he was trying to tell me, and I was nervous because of it.

  "It's Owen I'm talking about—my brother Owen."

  "What about him?"

  I hated pretending that I didn't know, but I also didn't want to get Ivy in trouble for telling me.

  "He was in an accident when he was ten years old, and he lost his foot. He lost his right foot and the bottom part of his right leg. He still has his knee and a couple of inches below the knee, but every morning when he wakes up, he has to put it on this prosthetic leg with a fake foot. It's a complicated contraption with a vacuum pump and layers of silicone that fit onto what's left of his leg."