Beneath These Shadows Page 47

The girl waiting at the hostess stand just inside lit up at the sight of Bishop. “Hey, Bish. I’ve been wondering when you’d come see me again.”

Her tone was more than flirty, bordering on suggestive. Scratch that—to be accurate, I’d have to say she was eye-fucking the hell out of him.

Of course, because I was female and human and feeling all warm and fuzzy about the guy who’d just given me the most memorable orgasm of my life, I had to do a full once-over. Okay, maybe twice-over.

Her hair had to have been dyed that red because there’s no way the color was real, and her purple eyes were so vivid they had to be fake, and why, if you were picking out fake contacts, would you let them clash with your hair so badly? She was curvy in all the right places, with cleavage for days visible in the low V-cut of her shirt. And, oh my God, she couldn’t have been wearing a bra because I could see what looked like nipple rings through it.

Is that what Bishop likes? Nipple rings and gravity-defying boobs? Because I clearly didn’t have either of those. Then I reminded myself of the most important thing—He’s with me. Not with her.

“Hey, Jules. We’ll take a table for two.”

It wasn’t until Bishop lifted his arm from around my waist to rest it over my shoulders that Jules noticed I existed.

Her bright smile instantly turned from genuine to I’m going to keep smiling if it kills me.

“Oh, I didn’t even see you there. Of course, I’m assuming that means you won’t want your normal seat at the bar.” She gave me a cursory inspection and seemed to write me off.

Really? Dammit, I looked good. My dress was adorable, my makeup didn’t scream I raided the MAC counter and tried every single thing they had, including twenty sets of fake eyelashes like Jules, but then again, I didn’t know if I could look that trashy if I tried.

Okay, so maybe I was getting a little catty, but still, who wouldn’t after being brushed off like that? What happened to sisterhood?

“No, we’ll take a table in the corner. Something out of the way.”

Her gaze came back to me, and this time she gave me a long, slow study. “Not your usual style, Bish.”

I didn’t know if she was talking about me or the table, but I had a feeling she was talking about both.

“Change is good for the soul,” was all Bishop said in reply, along with pulling me closer to his side.

Non-alcohol-induced warmth rushed through me, but I tried not to read into his words. Maybe it was only a temporary change for him. Then again, from what I gathered, whatever was happening between us didn’t seem to be his normal at all. That had to mean something.

The hostess grabbed sets of silverware from a bucket, and spun. “Come right this way. I’ve got the perfect table for you.”

She led us to the very back of the restaurant, right near the door where servers slammed in and out of the kitchen. The table didn’t even look like it was used regularly for dining. From the way Bishop’s body stiffened against my back, I could tell he wasn’t impressed.

“Here you—”

“This one isn’t gonna work for us.”

She turned around, her face the picture of innocence. “What do you mean? This is the most secluded—”

Bishop grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front of the restaurant, and for a moment, I thought he was going to lead me right out the door. But he didn’t. Instead, he stopped next to a table in the corner that hadn’t yet been cleared.

“We’ll take this one. I’d appreciate you sending someone over to bus it.” He pulled out a chair and waited for me to sit before looking at Jules.

“You don’t date. That’s what you told me. Sorry if I’m a little shocked.”

Still standing behind me as he pushed my chair in, Bishop’s hands landed on my shoulders and he squeezed. “I didn’t then. But sometimes a man has to change to go after what he wants.”

Another rush of warmth filled me along with a realization. It didn’t matter if Jules was skinnier than me, had better makeup contouring skills, or bigger boobs with blingy hardware—I was the one who inspired Bishop to change. I was enough for him, and that was all that mattered.

A silent Jules gathered the plates in her arms and mumbled an apology before taking them away.

Bishop grabbed the menus from a holder between the condiments and set one in front of me.

“You’ll be able to find crawfish every which way you could possibly want it here.”

“Are we going to pretend that didn’t just happen?” If not for the hurricane courage, I might not have said anything.

He looked up at me from where he was already checking out the menu. “There’s not much to say. I want to be with you. No one else. End of story. I don’t give a shit what Jules or the fuckin’ pope thinks about it. I won’t let anything stop me from making this night the best it can be for you.”

I want to be with you. I’d already rationalized that myself, but hearing Bishop say it made all the difference.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Tonight is already the best night I’ve ever had. You make everything I’ve walked past a hundred times seem new again. It’s like I’m seeing it through your eyes, and the world is a hell of a lot brighter that way. You make me happy, Eden.”

It was the best compliment I’d ever been given. The simplicity. The sincerity. The meaning behind it.

“You make me happy too. I can’t imagine how differently this last week would’ve gone if I hadn’t met you.”

“I don’t even want to think about you out there on your own. That’s enough to give me nightmares, and I’m a pretty tough motherfucker.”

“I would’ve survived. I just wouldn’t have gotten a chance to experience all this.” I gestured to the restaurant around us, but we both knew I was referring to so much more.

“Stick with me and I’ll make sure you get all the experiences you could possibly want.”

My smile widened as the server came to the table to welcome us and take our drink order.

“Another hurricane?” Bishop asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Why not?” I was feeling bold and alive and like nothing could possibly bring me down.

Bishop ordered a bourbon and let me taste the smoky liquor when the server brought it to the table. I wasn’t a fan, and washed it down with my hurricane.

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