Page 84 of Bishop's Queen

“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 goose bumps 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?”

“Mybest 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 sides.

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.

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