Obviously, she was still with Bishop, because where else would she be? Jay knew all of her friends. She wasn’t with Tara. Where was she? Wouldn’t Tara tell him if Ella was with her?
He scrolled to Tara’s name and hit send. It rang twice before she picked up.
“What in God’s name do you need, Jay?” Tara snipped.
He balked, pulling the phone away, before coming back. “What do you mean?”
“You called Ella’s phone until it died. I would’ve put it on the charger except you kept calling, and it was driving me nutty.” Tara groaned. “If you actually needed something, you would’ve called me first. So what is it that you need?”
Jay gawked. Ella didn’t have her phone on her? And Tara allowed this? Things as Jay understood them had been changing since Bishop had come around. But this was different. “Where is she?”
“Jay, I am not her keeper. And neither are you. I know everything we’ve talked about—”
“Not on the phone, Tara.”
“Fine, whatever. But neither one of us are her keepers. She’s safe. She’s a grown woman. She took a day off after a really big event. She’s our boss; we work for her. Not vice versa. Whether I like it or not, she calls the shots.”
The whole world had gone insane. Tara had lost her ever-loving mind. Ella didn’t have her phone. What would happen next? Freaking monkeys would fall from the sky, and the street would break open with lava spouts? Nothing logical was happening. “Screw off, Tara.”
He hung up, more determined to call Ella’s father.
***
Bishop had downed meat and potatoes and listened about the bees. All last week, Ella had talked about them, with Manny piping up in excitement whenever he’d been around. That, on top of the lavender and mint, had been and continued to be her favorite things to talk about. Finally, Ella had a day off, and all through a decidedly lopsided order of his meal and her fruit and oatmeal—water only, please—she had determined the day would be spent catching up on herb and insect errands.
Fun…
But it hadn’t been half bad. It started by breezing in and out of her condo. The green shit on the side of her building was gone. Manny had come and gone twice, leaving her dog and cat happy campers.
Now Bishop and Ella, with her pets, were all loaded into his truck. They’d run the course of Ella’s list, dropping off containers of herbs. Bishop likened the process to an adult version of a girl scout on her cookie run. People were stoked to see her.
The afternoon crept by, and they were at the end of her to-do list, scouting locations for her to film a couple of videos. They had made their way through several parks and nature preserves in northern Virginia. Who knew there were so many?
This last stop was as good as all the rest in his mind, but this park spoke to Ella in some fashion. Her dog ran circles in the park, and the kitten was stuck to Ella’s skirt. All in all, Bishop had to admit, running these kinds of errands wasn’t a bad gig.
“When did this Eco-Ella stuff become your life’s mission?” he asked, watching FB chase a dragonfly. How often did her cotton-ball dog get into the wild? Brick could show FB a thing or two about bugs.
“I think it was always there.” She played with her skirt, letting LK jump and toy with the hem. “I mean, you remember that I was into the outdoors.”
“There’s a difference between wanting to hang outside and taking off after college to go do what you did.”
“Maybe.”
His bullshit alarm chimed. Ella’s passion generally evoked an ass-chewing or learning opportunity. The way she focused on her kitten said there was more to her transformation. “Why, Ella? I don’t get it.”
“It’s important.”
“It’s air.”
“Exactly.” But her focus never came off the playing cat.
What wasn’t she sharing with the world? “I get it. We need it. To breathe. To live. Yada. Yada.”
“It’s also beautiful—”
Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, babe. You’re beautiful.”
Caught off guard, her chin tilted up, revealing her flushed cheeks.
Damn, totally beautiful. But his curiosity wasn’t going to be appeased by her looks. “What I’m saying is—”
Ella stopped playing with LK and came closer. “Close your eyes.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Why?”
“Do it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll be even more of a stick-in-the-mud than I initially assumed, and all your dance moves from earlier will be for naught.”
He laughed. “Assume all you want. You know—”
“Close your dang eyes.”
There was that passion of hers. He chuckled again, letting her sass take charge, and he gave over to the request while grinning. “Closing.”
“All the way.”
“All the way. Now what?”
“Wait for it,” she whispered.
“Ella—”
“Wait, Bishop. And don’t open.” She put a hand on his cheek, and the warmth of her skin had nothing on the goosebumps that jumped from her unexpected touch. Her palm lifted, replaced by a coolness where her hand had been. “Do you feel it?”
“I don’t feel anything.”
“You’re lying. Try again.”
The sunlight warmed his closed eyelids. The wind picked up, and his senses missed how close she had been with her fingers on his face. A sunny breeze picked up, and his muscles relaxed.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
He dropped his head back, appreciating that she forced him far out of his comfort zone. She’d made him stand with his eyes to the sun and learn that he could feel a breeze on his cheek just by losing her touch. He’d sooner call that some pussy-ass shit, but when she was the catalyst…
“Now you get it.” She stepped closer. “You felt it.”
He opened his eyes and dropped his chin. “I understand enough.”
Before he could think of the thousands of reasons he shouldn’t, he pressed his lips to hers and felt her sigh into his kiss. Her lips parted, and his hunger took that slip of permission and consumed her mouth. This was out of the bedroom. A kiss that couldn’t lead to sex was problematic.
Ella’s hands slid up his chest. The tips of her fingers slowly moved up his neck, as though she needed to feel his pulse, until her arms locked around him, and he held her close. Their distance was gone, and their bodies fit together in perfectly carved hooks and grooves. Her hold on him was fierce. She talked about light and air, but when they collided, there was fire and combustion. Smoke.
He drew back, and her eyes were wild, her skin flushed. He cupped her face, and his thumb outlined her kiss-reddened lips. And it was slow—the act of tearing himself off her. “Damn.”
“Damn,” she repeated.
The curves of her breasts were still so close to his chest, and he wanted the taste of her tongue again. A stray strand of hair taunted him, and he pushed it aside. “Are you going to tell me the truth?”
Ella’s face fell. Hell, everything about her did. She dropped her chin, pressing her forehead to his sternum. “It all started because of… Brie.”
Gone was the sun. The warmth had frozen. Bishop’s heart lay down to weep. “My sister?”
“My best friend. It’s like you always forget that.”
He wanted to push Ella away, but he’d done so much of that over this anguish that he couldn’t. Even now, like this, his arms could’ve been cement pillars for how heavy they hung by his side.
Pain had coated each of Ella’s words, and how much of a bastard did he have to be to disagree with her, to prove to her that his pain was worse, that blood trumped friendship.
Years in the military had taught him that was wrong—blood didn’t make brothers. Experience did. If Ella had had a connection to Brie anywhere near as deep as he’d had with some of his teammates, then… it wasn’t his place to disagree.
“What about her?�
�� His raw throat barely managed the simple question.
“When you watch your best friend take her last breath…” Ella trailed off. “It’s possible to become obsessed with the very thing that she didn’t have anymore.”
His chin dropped too, and Bishop didn’t need to see Ella’s face to know silent tears fell. He didn’t want to look because he couldn’t trust his unshed tears that threatened to descend. Fuck that awful day when their world had crashed.
“We’re lucky to be here,” she whispered. “And I like what I do. I feel strongly about so many things. But the air… When it’s gone, it’s gone.”
Brie couldn’t take another breath in. The ambulance hadn’t gotten there fast enough. There had been other things wrong too. When the car crashed, Brie’s chest had been crushed.
Shit… Bishop fought through the concrete hold that cemented his arms in place and folded them around Ella. Something he should have done a long time ago.
“It’s okay.” He’d never said anything like that to her before. Maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have left, leaving Ella and pushing away the final memory that was too painful to hang onto. At the time, it would’ve been a lie. He hadn’t thought anything would ever be okay again.
Secure in his arms, Ella sobbed. In all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her fall apart, not even at Brie’s funeral. They were both too strong for that. Felt too guilty. And that was what had destroyed them in the end.
LK meowed for attention. Ella wiped at her face, and Bishop quickly ran a hand over his cheeks.
Sheepishly, she shook her head, scooping up the kitten. “I don’t really talk about that. I never have.”
He nodded. “That’s personal.”
Sniffing, she petted LK. After a moment, she took a deep breath and switched topics. “I forgot. My folks called, and they’re headed on vacation to some island. I think it’s a great time to get away. They asked if I wanted to join them.”
“You could use some down time.” And he needed to process things away from her, like what had happened last night, and the decision to kiss her for no goddamn reason. And now, saying Brie’s name, thinking about the accident, talking about it, even if only for thirty seconds, when they’d never talked about what had happened. It was all too much.
“Yeah.” The kitten purred. “So I guess you have a vacation without me while I’m gone. No stalker will know where I am, ya know?”
“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell my powers that be. I’m sure they won’t care.” And maybe he would even get temporarily assigned to another gig, which would be a huge bonus. It would help clear his mind, and he would get to do what he had wanted to anyway.
“Bishop?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Enlisting in the army, was that your Eco-Ella? Your escape after Brie?” Ella’s eyelashes were still damp from her tears. They stuck together. Splotches marked her skin from crying so hard.
Bull’s-eye. He couldn’t answer. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for letting me feel the air.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SportsCenter played on the big screen, and Bishop’s head pounded. He buried his face in his arms as Locke sat two chairs over and swiveled in the chair, tossing a baseball from hand to hand. Having a few days off should have been a good vacation, except he wanted a good gig where he could shoot things or track down whoever Titan called an enemy.
Hell. Really, Bishop’s problem was Ella. Had it been the right move to let Ella leave the country without security?
Everyone agreed she would be fine. Completely off the grid. No one but her family, the FBI, Jared, Rocco, Locke, and himself knew where she was. Her “team” had a rough idea of when she would be back, and the more Bishop thought about her team, the more he decided they stunk like dead fish on a hot day.
The war room door opened, and he propped his chin on his forearm as Nicola walked in. He hadn’t seen her much since the bathroom incident, but the short-term encounters they’d had in briefings had been quick-witted and smart as hell. He liked how she could assess situational data as well as she could read a team dynamic. “Hey, Nic.”
“Nicola.” Locke stopped bobbing in his chair and threw the baseball to her.
She caught it, tossing it to Bishop. “You two are cordially invited to Mia Winters’s tonight.”
He caught the ball, lofting it to Locke.
Locke palmed it and went back to the hand-to-hand. “Thanks. I might have plans, though.”
Nicola smiled tersely. “Change ‘em, Locke.”
Interesting because Locke didn’t say much to begin with, and Nicola made it sound as though social functions were a requirement.
“You too, Bishop. Be there.”
Locke lifted his chin, accepting the invitation for what it was, an order of sorts, and Bishop did too. Though he planned a pit stop first to check on Manny. “Titan orientation 101 is not what I’d call normal.”
***
Bishop stood alone in front of a large white colonial house. Colby and Mia Winters’ home was badass to the max. It had lots of land like the home Bishop had found when he settled back stateside, but the security had been tricked out. The place was an estate, and it screamed Titan. A row of huge trucks and SUVs lined the horseshoe driveway. Music played from the back of the house, and even from the outside, he could smell deliciousness.
But he wasn’t actually alone. He just felt it, semi-wishing he knew his teammates better. That was likely the point of all this. Locke walked in step with him as they took in the place.
“Like the first day of school,” Locke muttered before he banged on the door.
New team. New places. New everything.
The door flew open, and a girl, not quite a teenager, stood with dark hair and even darker eyes. She spun with another little girl, about half her size and very blond, attached to her waist. “It’s a new guy!” yelled the dark-haired girl.
Well, all right then.
“Two of them!” corrected the blonde. “One, two. One and one is two.”
“There are kids.” Locke took a step to the side and held his hand out for Bishop to go first. “Didn’t expect that.”
He didn’t either. All right, Winters had kids. That made sense. He guessed several of the guys did. Both girls wore camo and tutus. The younger one also had on a cape. They seemed covered on all bases, no matter what imaginary apocalypse loomed.
Then another kid tore through the room. Holy crap. This one was a little boy, who seemed dangerously unsteady on his feet, wielding what Bishop was certain were toy rocket launchers.
“We should follow the smell of food coming from the kitchen,” Bishop offered.
“Roger that.”
They rounded the corner, and there was the team. Thank God for people he knew. Adults. Bishop could handle that. In addition to his coworkers were what looked like significant others… and babies. Bishop did a quick once-over, rubbing the back of his neck, and could place almost everyone. This wasn’t like his last team.
“Hey.” A familiar woman’s voice caught his attention. “If it isn’t my favorite man with the ropes.”
Bishop would know that voice anywhere, and he turned to Sugar, Jared’s wife. He’d had a tiny misstep with her when their paths had crossed before he signed on at Titan. All had worked out for the best, but not before he’d tied up Sugar—who was very pregnant at the time—with a jump rope just in case she was a Russian mobster. “Hey, you had the baby.”
“Or was I really pregnant?”
He faltered for a nanosecond. That woman had screwed with him from the words “hands up,” and she had been pregnant. That, he knew without a doubt. “Congratulations.”
Jared walked into the hallway, holding a very small infant. “Gentlemen, meet Violet.”
“Nicely done, Sugar,” Locke said.
She beamed. “Thank you.”
“Don’t forget who signs the paychecks,” Jared grumble-laug
hed.
Sugar rolled her eyes. “Absolutely. Far be it from me to bear and birth the fruit of your loins only to exclude your contributions to this baby-making process.” She was a handful, perfectly tailored for Boss Man.
Bishop laughed as a toddler ran through the room, followed by a kid who was a little older. “There are a lot of kids here.”
“There are a lot of kids in Titan,” Jared explained as though Bishop was a few rounds short.
Sugar caught the toddling child by his hand. “This way, Jacian. You too, Ace. Move boots. Round you go.” She raised the hand. “This one is Rocco’s; the loose one is one of Winters’s.”
Right. Was he supposed to remember that? Bishop looked at Locke as though he might have that answer. He needed Ella to handle the ebb and flow of this chaos. She would handle this, easy. But Ella was thousands of miles away in the tropics with her family, and that was a good thing. She was safe. And that was all that mattered.
He reached for a deep breath, following as Ace led their hallway contingent to a large kitchen.
Beth held a small child in her arms. Roman and Cash had a sniper rifle on a kitchen counter, examining what looked to be new hardware. A dark-haired woman with legs up to her neck called to Jacian. She sat next to Parker, who had a blond biker chick on his knee—oh, Bishop knew her.
“Hey, Lexi,” Bishop said. The biker-chick look was vastly different from the workout clothes she had donned in the Sugar-jump-rope fiasco. Definitely a complete one-eighty.
Lexi bound off of Parker. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
After a quick hello and introduction to Locke, Lexi scanned the room. “Who don’t you know? Caterina, wave.”
The leggy dark-haired woman lifted her hand, giving an accented, “Hello.”
“Rocco belongs to her, and she knows how to torture people. No joke. Pretty much never upset her. Ever.” Lexi pivoted. “You know Beth and Roman. That’s Brady, the baby. Super cute.”
A petite woman walked in under Winters’s arm, holding another baby. So. Many. Babies.
Bishop's Queen Page 18
