Page 44

Eden

I woke up alone. Bishop’s side of the bed was cold, which suggested he’d been up for a while. Not necessarily a bad thing. I wasn’t sure how I would feel waking up with him still in the bed. Last night had felt weirdly intimate and I was sure at one point I’d woken up cuddled close to him.

I rolled onto my back. Light was shining through the curtains, but it didn’t feel late. It still felt early. That peacefulness that comes when most of a household is still asleep. Groping for the cell Bishop had given me, I checked the time.

Six-thirty.

Ugh ... too early .

But I was awake. And I was thirsty. So, I rolled out of bed, threw on the jeans and t-shirt I’d worn yesterday and crept downstairs. I’d shower and change before we were due to go out. Until then, if anyone else was up, they’d have to make do with my scruffy morning self. Hopefully, I’d find Bishop in the kitchen already so I wouldn’t feel too awkward about helping myself to a drink of some kind.

Voices drifted along the hallway as I stepped off the bottom stair, and I tilted my head listening. One female, the other definitely male. But both were too low to make out the words. It was only when I reached the kitchen door that I recognized the male one as Bishop’s. He sounded irritated—which wasn’t unusual. I was sure irritation was his default setting.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside … and stopped.

A familiar blonde was seated facing the door, one hand resting on Bishop’s arm as she leaned forward. The top of her robe was gaping open, and I had a direct line of sight down it to her more-than-ample cleavage. Her eyes lifted and met mine, and a slow smile curved her lips up.

The random thought that her makeup was perfectly in place flitted through my mind, followed closely by a sharp stab of anger at the way her red painted fingernails were stroking a circle over Bishop’s arm.

I shoved it away and pasted a smile on my face. There was no way I was going to let her get a reaction from me.

I switched my gaze from her to Bishop, who had his back to me.

“Good morning.” My voice was bright.

Bishop didn’t react. He didn’t jump, didn’t pull away, just turned his head, and smiled.

“You’re awake early.” Nothing in his tone suggested he was surprised or upset by my appearance.

He held out his hand, took mine when I was near and tugged me close enough to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me onto his lap. I followed his lead, looping my arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I woke up and you were gone. I guessed you came down to make coffee.” Susannah could take that however she pleased.

“You guessed correctly.”

I glanced over at Susannah, who made a show of removing her hand from Bishop’s arm. I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I let my head drop against Bishop’s shoulder.

“I’m surprised I woke up. You wore me out last night.”

He didn’t miss a beat, dipping to kiss the top of my head. “I wear you out most nights.”

Susannah’s eyes narrowed. “Well, it was nice to catch up. I better go before David wakes and wonders where I am.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” I kept my voice bland.

Her gaze jumped to me. “Yes … well …” She pushed to her feet. “I’ll speak to you later, Bishop.”

Bishop didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted me off his lap and stood. “I’ll make you a coffee. Do you want breakfast?”

I shook my head. “Too early for food.” I took the seat Susannah had vacated and watched as Bishop moved around the kitchen.

When he set down a mug of coffee in front of me and retook his seat, I stood and crossed the room to close the door.

“I can’t keep her away from you if you’re having early morning meetings with her.” I refused to ask why they were in the kitchen together. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.

“It wasn’t through choice, believe me. She came in shortly after me.”

“You looked very cozy.”

“If, by cozy, you mean I was trying to keep her quiet and not wake everyone in the house by losing her shit and screaming at me … then, sure.” He took a mouthful of coffee. “She said that she understood why I brought someone with me, but that she would never let her husband know about us.”

I snorted into my mug.

“She also told me that she believes I married you on the rebound and that she forgives me.”

“Forgives you for what?”

“Ending things between us.”

“And now she wants you back because she’s the only one who understands you, right?”

One side of his mouth tipped up. “Exactly.”

“And now I have to spend the day with her,” I muttered.

“I have faith that you will handle it.” He reached out, took my mug away and placed it on the table, then pressed a finger beneath my chin and tipped my head up.

I frowned at him. He leaned forward, and before I could register what was happening, he kissed me. It was just a brush of lips, his against mine, over before it really began. But even after he drew back, his thumb running over my jaw, I could still feel the pressure of his mouth, a tingling sensation that had me wanting to lick my lips. Instead, I cleared my throat and summoned a frown.

“What was that for?”

He smiled and shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”