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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ella’s nerves were in her throat as Bishop opened the door to the Bistro Lounge. How stupid could she have been? Clinging to him at the front door of her condo? She squeezed her eyes shut for the thousandth time. When he had grabbed her hand to leave, she’d lost her mind. She’d simply forgotten anything except for the simple art of breathing.
And those breaths… they felt delicious. The kind that tickled her pressure points and slipped up and down in her throat. They made her heart race with each step toward the front door, and when they stopped, she was drunk on Bishop.
That was absurd—being aroused without doing a thing. He didn’t touch her seductively, didn’t even have anything that nice to say. But what he did do was something that hadn’t happened in a long time. He told her the truth. He acted with what felt like her best interest in mind. Not her blog or her business, but her safety. Ella hadn’t thought about that in… ever.
Then he walked her across the room, like a man.
So simple.
But her nipples hardened, and surely, he had to notice.
Her cheeks heated again, and she couldn’t look him in the eye. Was she so easy to fall for such domineering commands? But there was a selflessness to Bishop, which made him even more attractive—except he absolutely didn’t want to be there.
And there was that small part in which he waspaidto be by her side.
Ugh.
The Bistro Lounge was one of her favorite vegan spots, and bonus, it was within walking distance to her condo. Those were the only two things she had in mind when she picked the location. But with Bishop at her side, she noticed the lights were dark, a stark contrast to the sunshine that had warmed her back. Jazz played low. This bistro was a place to get in the mood, and she didn’t mean for that to happen at all. Another strike against her. They had been playing games earlier. Three rounds to her, one to him. Did he think this was a setup? That she was trying to seduce him or make up for what had happened before?
“Trendy, huh?” He took the lead to the bar, where she couldn’t have been more out of place if she had tried.
“Something like that. Closest place for a vodka soda.”
He pulled the barstool out for her, and she hopped up. As he lumbered himself onto the velvet-covered seat, he leaned back, looking at ease but taking in the room. Was he inspecting it or judging it? Watching for Stalker Boy or making an assessment of where she had chosen?
And why did she care?
Ha.
The man in charge of her safety had given her the warm fuzzies. Except they were the hot tinglies. They had a boatload of unaddressed things to say that neither was apparently going to touch, and he had said atonabout what Eco-Ella had become. Celebrity culture, no matter what niche corner it was, was still hard to embrace. She hadn’t figured it out, and he was judgmental.
He shifted, still eyeing the various parts of the bar and table section, then put his hand on her back. “You good?”
A thousand nerve endings jumped up and down, screamingyes, while her mind shook a scolding finger at them all to stand down. “Can you flag the bartender?”
He laughed and grabbed a menu. “Easy, Thirsty.”
The bartender appeared a blink of a second later, tossing two cocktail napkins out with a tip-winning grin. “Hey, Ella. It’s nice to have you stop in again. Last time was great for business. Thanks!”
Bishop gave her a look.
“Hi. I’m glad you remember.” She ignored Bishop. That wouldn’t be happening tonight since she’d deleted the post. “It’s hard to get good vegan food sometimes.”
“We try. What’ll you start with?”
“Grey Goose and soda.”
The bartender turned to Bishop. “Anything for you?”
He flipped the menu back and forth. “Are the burgers any good?”
“Nope.” The bartender shook his head, waiting expectantly.
She agreed, mostly because she didn’t want to smell it, though she knew this place did order from a sustainable, animal-friendly producer. “But the shiitake nori rolls are to die for.”
The bartender pointed at Ella. “Our fave girl is correct.”