Page 37

Bishop

I made sure the door was locked—not that I thought Eden was going to break in while I was showering—and stripped out of my clothes. It was only when I was under the hot spray of water that I realized I’d forgotten to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom with me.

Fuck . Where was my head at?

Forgetting something so basic was not what I did.

Nor was marrying a girl because she couldn’t afford your fees . Or taking her to your best friend’s house to meet his family.

I tipped my head back and let the water wash over my face.

Did you really need a wife to prove to Susannah that it was over? Be honest, Bishop.

No, I didn’t need one, but it was definitely going to make the situation easier.

Not coming to the engagement party would have made the situation easier. Crosby didn’t expect you to show up anyway. So why did you?

I reached for the shower gel and squeezed some into my palm.

Of course, I was going to accept the invitation to his engagement party. Crosby is my friend. He’d do the same for me.

You’d told him you were going to be out of town, working .

Plans changed.

Yeah, they did. Your plan changed from taking the next job, to marrying a redheaded girl on the run from a detective ex-boyfriend. And what the fuck is that all about, anyway? What happened to avoiding anything that brought you into a possible face-off with law enforcement that you hadn’t orchestrated?

I shook my head, spraying water everywhere.

It’s just business.

When did you last buy a client a six-thousand-dollar ring, a new wardrobe, give her your name and a promise to protect her at cost to yourself?

I’m entitled to one good deed during my lifetime.

This isn’t a good deed. This is a midlife crisis. You’ve seen Rook settle down with Magdalena and you’re scared you’ve left it too late for yourself. You’re worried that you’re going to die alone, with only your brothers to mourn your passing .

I scrubbed a hand down my face.

What the actual fuck? I loved my life. I hated people invading my space. I worked hard to get to where I was. Why would I regret anything?

Who said you regretted anything?

The question whispered through my mind.

“I don’t regret anything.” I said the words out loud.

The voice didn’t reply, and I finished washing without any more disquieting thoughts. Cutting off the water, I stepped out. A pile of towels was on a shelf to one side. I dried off, wrapped one around my waist, and rubbed my hair with another as I walked across the tiled floor to the door.

“Oh!” The startled gasp brought my head up, and my eyes connected with wide green ones.

“Sorry. I forgot to take a change of clothes with me. Just came out to grab them.” I rounded the bed and opened the case I’d left on a chair next to the dresser. Taking out a clean pair of pants, white shirt, and underwear, I tucked the bundle under my arm and turned back to the bathroom door.

Eden’s eyes were on me the entire time as I made my way back inside. Even with the door shut between us, I could feel her gaze. Heavy, hot, burning between my shoulder blades.

I should have warned her before I walked out. She’d been surprised, shocked even. It was no wonder she’d stared at me.

I pulled on the clothes, folded the towels, and threw open the door.

“All yours.”

“What?” She blinked at me.

“The bathroom.”

“Oh!” Cheeks scarlet, she almost leapt from the bed and ran past me into the bathroom, only to reappear seconds later. “Clothes!” She snatched up a neat pile of clothes she’d obviously picked out while I was inside the bathroom and disappeared again.

When she came out ten minutes later, she was pink-cheeked, fully clothed and her hair had been tamed into a thick braid. Makeup free, the bruise on one cheek was visible, but the split in her lip had almost healed.

“I need to put on some makeup,” she said, clearly seeing the direction of my gaze.

“You don’t need it.”

“I’d rather people didn’t stare or jump to the wrong conclusions.”

“No one will think I did it. But you’re right, they’ll probably ask what happened.”

“And we have no story to tell. Somehow, I don’t think telling people the truth will make them believe this whole marriage thing.”

“They would if I was Knight. He can be a bleeding heart at times.”

“Not you, though.” She rummaged through her case and pulled out a makeup bag. “Dana said you might be a robot posing as a human.”

She passed me and walked back into the bathroom. I followed her.

“A robot?”

She smiled at me through the mirror as she applied her makeup, hiding the bruise on her cheek. “I guess you’re not very emotional. From our own interactions, you’re very … logical, I guess. You don’t let emotion rule your decisions.”

“I can be emotional.”

“When was the last time you cried?”

“Cried? I don’t remember. Probably when I was a kid.”

“Maybe that was a bad example. When were you last in love?”

I frowned.

“The fact you can’t answer the question tells me everything I need to know.” She turned to face me.

“Look what being in love did to you.” I touched her cheek with one finger. “It brought you nothing but pain.”

“Is that what happened to you?”