Katie was going to owe me big.

“More dangly snowflake things. They make the room look festive.” The pint-sized brunette had her hands on her hips, accentuating the swell of them with each hop and sway as she practically danced around the dining room at The Baker’s Cottage. Every male gaze in the room followed her movements, but she didn’t notice. Too worried about making sure each detail was just so before the grand opening celebration that evening.

No wonder she hadn’t been dating.

And me? I was trying my damnedest not to think about Bishop and dating at the same time. He’d been so sweet at the funeral, so kind and supportive. We’d stood there like a couple, greeting people and accepting the condolences of the mourners. It had been…amazing. But Gage’s words from the other night refused to stop repeating in my head. They’d left me raw and unprotected, flaying my skin wide and exposing feelings I wasn’t ready to deal with. Sadly, the man in question—every thick, bearded inch of him—was our babysitter for the day, which meant I couldn’t escape his overbearing presence.

“Careful,” Shye said quietly as she sidled up beside me. “You’ve caught the attention of the shark.”

“What’s the shark?”

“Gage. He keeps staring this way.”

I glanced behind me, catching his eyes before looking back to the table of festive plasticware before me. Shye was right; he was watching, though she’d been wrong about the staring part. He wasn’t just staring—he glared. And deep down, I knew I deserved every hard look he could send me. I deserved so much more.

But I wasn’t about to tell a virtual stranger that. “You call Gage the shark?”

She shrugged. “It’s the eyes. Eyes that dark are sharklike, you know?”

I did. I totally knew. And he’d made me feel like prey enough to agree with the shark comparison.

As Shye and I counted out forks and spoons, Finn appeared from the back of the restaurant carrying a big, heavy-looking box. “Where do you want this, Katie?”

“Oh, perfect. Anabeth, come here.”

Not what I wanted to do—my mixed-up feelings about the younger Kennard brother were still too rough and out of control for me to swallow down—but I pasted on a smile and headed their way. “What’s up, boss?”

“These are some of the old tin signs from when this place was a diner forty years ago. There are boxes of them in the basement. Aren’t they fun?”

She held up a couple, grinning from ear to ear. Heavy, dirty slabs of metal with chipped paint and advertising for products long gone. Not at all the style of her restaurant.

But Katie didn’t seem to notice my hesitation. “See, this is for that chocolate milk stuff everyone used to drink. Oh, and a soda fountain sign. I don’t have a soda fountain, but I could put the sign out, right? Remind the customers of what once was so they can see the upgrade. Almost…an homage to Justice’s past.”

I tried to be excited for her find, but I needed this conversation to end. Finn kept looking at me, watching me with those eyes that were so close to Bishop’s unusual gray shade—just a bit bluer. But unlike when Bishop caught my gaze, I didn’t feel warm or wanted. Finn’s stare left me cold and uncomfortable, and I had a sudden need to disappear.

“Oh, Camden is here,” Katie said, smiling toward the door where, indeed, Camden had just walked through. “I needed to ask him something. What was it? Oh, hell. Camden, what were we talking about the other day?”

And then she swept away in a whirlwind of nervous energy and deadline-driven mania.

“Is it just me, or does talking with her make you want to take a nap?” Finn stepped beside me, bumping my shoulder with his. “You ready to put on a show tonight, rock star?”

“I’m far from a rock star, but yes. I’m ready. Tarot is easy.” Unless Camden was the one pulling cards, then not so much. But I wasn’t about to tell anyone what I’d read for him. “You ready for guard duty?”

He nodded in the most exaggerated fashion as he said, “No. Not at all.”

His smile made mine break out, and I reached to smack his arm. Just as my hand made contact, I caught Gage watching us, his face pulled tight into a frown. I took a step away from Finn.

Luckily, Bishop walked in before Finn noticed my retreat, stealing my attention and calming the storm inside of me. He practically stole my breath, he was so handsome. And I was so far gone for that man all over again.

“Hey,” Bishop said when he stopped in front of me. His hair looked darker than usual, the persistent rain soaking him, and his eyes seemed even grayer as they focused solely on me.

“Hey yourself.”

He glanced around, his brow furrowing when he noticed the streamers all across the ceiling. The ones hitting him in the head. “Well, these are a little low.”

“I doubt Katie or Shye, each of whom barely come up to your chest, thought about you tall people.”

“Apparently not. Hey, man,” he said, directing his attention to Gage who’d walked over. “Deacon called. He needs help bringing over the liquor. Asked if you could drive out to the Jury Room with Finn.”

Gage shot me a hard look before returning that dead gaze to Bishop. “Whatever he needs.”

“Thanks, man. And hey, Finn—I didn’t see you there. How are you, brother?”

Finn couldn’t seem to look Bishop in the eye. “Good. Fine. So, Deacon needs me?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind. I can run over if there’s a problem—”

“Nah, he’s my boss. I can handle this.” Finn disappeared out the front door, dragging Gage—and therefore Rex—along with him. Leaving me alone with Bishop. Or as alone as we could be considering all the people bussing about.

“So, yeah,” Bishop said, his smile growing warmer. Deeper. So much more handsome. “Hey.”

I grabbed his hand, unable not to touch. “Hey. So… Who’s Deacon?”

Bishop wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling my body against his and making my heart flutter. “Alder’s best friend and the owner of the old bar and motel at the county line. He calls it the Jury Room.”

“Finn works in a bar? Isn’t that…”

“Tempting fate? Don’t know. He wasn’t an alcoholic, and Deacon keeps an eye on him for us, so we try to stay positive about it.”

I hummed, inching closer. Licking my lips as his hand dropped lower. His fingers brushing the top of my ass. “What about Elijah? What’s he doing these days?”

“Defense attorney out in Denver. Shares his house with Lainie, who just graduated with her MBA.”

“Wow.” That was all I could say. None of that fit with their personalities from when they were younger. Finn had been driven and eager, while Elijah had been a slacker and a jokester. Lainie had simply been a little girl with pigtails and dolls. They’d all changed so much over the last fourteen years.

And I’d missed all of it.

Bishop was still Bishop, though. Still too handsome for his own good. Still looking at me as if I were the only woman in the room. Still such a magnet for me and my heart.

“Excuse me,” Shye said as she appeared beside us. “Katie wants more boxes of signs brought up from the basement, and Finn left. Do you think you can grab them for her?”

Bishop didn’t let me go, even when I tried to pull away. “Sure. What kind of signs are they?”

I was not a woman who let an opportunity pass me by.

“I can show you.” I led him by the hand to the basement stairs off the kitchen, my body humming the entire way. He followed closely, almost too close. Near enough to brush his hand against my hip with every step. I’d only wanted a moment alone with him, a few seconds to say more than hey, but something about this trip to the basement felt electrified. Felt prophetic in a way. The tension grew with each stair down, dragging us like gravity. Like we were meant to be in that cold, dark space.

Just us.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I paused. Looking around as my heart slammed a staccato beat in my chest. The basement sat shadowy and quiet, seemingly cut off from the rest of the world. Completely swallowing Bishop and me. We were so alone. And so damn close to each other.

“So.” Bishop crowded me. Brushing my body with his. “Where are these signs?”

So close. Always so close. The man stole my breath with his proximity.

“I’m not sure. I just know what they look like. We might have to hunt a bit.”

Bishop hummed, running his hand over the curve of my hip before holding out an arm for me to go ahead of him. I took a deep breath and headed deeper into the dark. The shadows seemed to move, though, and I paid far too much attention to the man following me to notice silly things like pipes running across the floor. At least, until I tripped over one.

Before I could fall, Bishop grabbed my arm and swung me up against his chest. Hard muscles pressed against me, and his rough hands held on to my biceps in a grip just shy of too much. I really wanted too much, though. I wanted him to be strong with me. To overpower me in some way.

I shivered, making Bishop smile in that charming fucker way of his.

“You know what I was thinking about all day, Firefly?”

Oh god, he’d pulled out the big guns with that nickname again. “No, what?”

“Kissing you the other night.” He leaned closer, his lips a brush away from mine. “I hope you’re not mad about that.”

Breathe, Anabeth. Fucking breathe.

“No. I’m not mad.” I pulled him closer, rising up on the balls of my feet to close the distance between us. “I’m not sorry either.”

The look in his eyes, the hunger there. It set my body on fire.

“This is more than nothing,” he said, his breath whispering over my face. His lips too close to mine to resist.

“It is. It always has been.”

“You sure that’s what you want?”

I couldn’t lie. Not with him so close. Not with the tension so thick.

“I just want you.”

“Thank fuck.” He dropped down and stole a kiss, slipping his tongue past my lips when I opened for him.

The kiss started all sweet and easy, soft brushes and gentle pressure. But then I moaned into his mouth—a soft, needful sound—and Bishop broke. His lips grew stronger, his tongue demanding more. Hands tugging, moving us so he could press me against a wall, he kissed me like a man starving to be kissed. Like a man who needed to taste me. I kissed him back just as vigorously. Just as needy. And my god, had I missed kissing him. The two times before had been good—surprising, but good. This was better. Hotter.

His touch hard and strong, Bishop caressed every inch he could reach. Kneading his way over my hips and down my thighs, teasing my pussy through the fabric of my skirt. Holding a hand against it as he pulled away to whisper a harsh, “Tell me I can touch you, Anabeth.”

I nodded, needing the same thing he did. Giving him permission to take it. Bishop didn’t hold back, yanking up my skirt and sliding his hand into my panties, finding my clit with a precision that left me gasping. But he didn’t stop there. Mouth on mine, tongue stroking inside, he mimicked the movements down below. Brushing, teasing, pressing, rubbing until I had to break the kiss. Had to catch my breath.

And then he started talking.

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked for me. Can’t wait to taste you again. Going to eat you for days when I finally get between your legs.” He flicked his finger against my clit, making me gasp at the sensation.

“Bishop.”

“Let me make you come, Firefly. Let me feel it.”

My knees nearly buckled, my panties growing wetter with every second. How could I say no? How could anyone expect me to?

I didn’t. Instead, I spread my legs a little wider and grabbed his hand, weaving our fingers together and pushing them inside myself. Pressing him deeper as I retreated. Whimpering my need as he stretched me so damn wide.

“So hot. Always so fucking hot.” He leaned closer, sinking his teeth into my collarbone as I pulled my hand completely away from his. I didn’t need to help him—he knew how to get me off. He always had. Long before I even knew how to do it myself.

“More, please,” I keened, trying to rock my hips, to gain more friction. But he held me in place, keeping me at his will. And I let him. Surrounded by him, weighted down by him, possessed by him…I let it all happen because I wanted him. Always had and always would.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, his voice so deep and growly. “I’ll treat this pussy so good. I’ll make every second so sweet for you. Just stay with me here. Stay with me.”

I broke. The words, the double meaning I heard in them, the way his fingers plunged deep inside me and his palm worked my clit. There was no way to resist. The dam holding back my lust and desire and memory of all the things I hadn’t allowed myself to think about for years finally burst as I came, as I gripped his shoulders and curled my body into his. As he whispered such filthy sweet endearments in my ear.

“Such a good girl. Just as beautiful as I remember. Feel so good on my fingers. So fucking soft and wet for me.” And then he went in for the kill. “I missed you, Firefly. So fucking much.”

My heart practically poured right out of my chest even as my body melted against him. “I know you won’t believe me, but I missed you too. Every day.”

And I had. There was no denying it, no need to hide my weakness. I’d loved this man almost since I had met him. I still did. I probably always would.

Bishop sighed loud and deep, pressing his hips against me as if seeking some sort of relief, some way to bring attention to the hard cock wedged between us. But before I could do anything more for him, he withdrew his hand from between my legs, leaning back just enough to stare down at me. To lock me into place with his gaze. Those gray eyes as dark and demanding as ever. I hadn’t seen eyes like his before I met him, hadn’t since either. I knew I never would again when he walked away from me.

Not if. When. A thought that terrified me. As did the way his eyes went from heated and needy to questioning. Determined.

I wasn’t ready for determined Bishop.

“I need to know what happened.” When I tried to shake him off, he pressed harder against me, pinning me to the wall. Trapping me there. “I deserve that much. You left, and when I came to find you, you were already with some other guy. What the fuck did I do that was so bad—”

“Stop.” I shook my head, bringing my finger to his lips to quiet him. Unable to hear the pain and anguish in his voice without wanting to cry. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why were you with someone else?”

Something in his voice, in the look on his face, tore through my battlements. Opening up the place where I stored my secrets and giving me just enough room to tell him that story. To soothe him with one truth. “The man? The one I lived with in Vegas? I wasn’t with him like that. Miss sent me to him because I needed to get away from here. He was a friend of hers and nothing more than my roommate for a couple of years while I got my GED and went to vocational school.”

Bishop shook his head, looking so confused. “Why didn’t you say anything? When I came to find you, why didn’t you tell me that? You had to know what I thought when he answered the door.”

I had. And I’d fed into it instead of calming him because that moment needed to be the end of us. Something I’d never admitted. Something he needed to understand. “It was easier to get you to leave if you thought I’d moved on.”

He jerked back, leaving me cold and empty against the wall. Alone, like always. I curled into myself, tears building in my eyes as I watched him retreat from me.

“I want the whole story, Anabeth.” Bishop began to pace, his steps long and loud. Stomping almost. “I deserve that much. You never gave me a fucking reason why you left.”

And I never would because to admit what I’d done would break him. Break us forever. A sob ripped through my chest, racking my body hard. “I can’t. You’ll…”

“I’ll what?” Bishop lunged and grabbed my arms, holding me up, staring down at me in a way he never would again if he knew. If I told him. With care and compassion and feelings so strong, I could almost believe he’d forgive me. But he wouldn’t. I couldn’t even forgive myself. “Tell me, Anabeth. What is it you think I’ll do if I know?”

“You’ll hate me,” I snapped. “You’ll never see me the same way, and I can’t. I just…”

Bishop stood solid and firm, waiting for me to finish my sentence. Watching as if hoping I would keep talking, but I was done. Out of words. Battlements restored.

Hating myself, knowing he wouldn’t stop pushing me unless I made him, I said the only thing I could think of to end the conversation. “Katie’s waiting on the boxes.”

Bishop reeled as if I’d slapped him with my words. I didn’t back down, staring right back at him as he gaped at me. As his own walls came crashing down, his face going from hurt to pissed in two seconds flat.

“You ruined us, Anabeth,” he said, his voice empty and lifeless. “Whatever happened—whatever you’re keeping from me—it destroyed us both. Don’t you get that? I should know what took you away from me. I should know why my heart’s been broken for fourteen goddamn years.”

But the words wouldn’t come. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t ever tell him, wouldn’t ever bring that pain to his door. A broken heart was nothing in comparison, so I simply shook my head and pressed my lips together as the tears flowed. As I collapsed under the grief and self-hatred that I carried every day. As I watched him shut down.

He grabbed a box of signs and headed for the stairs, leaving me behind.

Alone.

Always.