Bishop's Angel

by Tory Richards

  “Fuck it,” he groaned low, giving Angel a hard kiss. He meant to keep it brief but the instant their lips meshed it was as if something was keeping them fused together. After a couple of comments, and someone clearing their voice, he pulled away.

  “I hope you don’t expect me to do anything like that with you while we’re here.”

  Because she was looking past him toward the others, Bishop turned his head to see what she was talking about. Herc had picked up his girlfriend and was tickling her belly with his tongue. Razor was nuzzling his face in the overlarge breasts of his date, and twitching enough to tell him what her movements beneath the surface of the water meant. That was me not long ago.

  Angel opened her mouth when he offered her the rest of the shrimp. “You mean you don’t want me nuzzling your breasts?” He asked in a low tone, for her ears only. “You don’t want my tongue on you?” He found the flare of awareness in her eyes mesmerizing. “I’d like nothing more right now than to be kissing every square inch of your naked body.”

  “You don’t play fair,” Angel complained in barely a whisper.

  “That’s all part of the fun, honey.” He winked at her.

  “Oh? I don’t know if I like this kind of fun, honey,” she said. “The thought of you kissing me all over just made me soak my panties. If you’re a good boy maybe I’ll let you have a taste when we get home. ” She turned and walked away.

  The little witch! Bishop took a sip of his beer, a smile hovering over his face as Angel had managed to turn the tables on him without half-trying. He should remember she wasn’t just a pretty piece of ass. She had a brain, unlike the bimbos his friends had brought with them. The sound of a woman screaming drew his attention to the pool. Busty had removed her top and was playing the frightened virgin scene. Herc was all over her, and Wizard was filming the whole damn thing. He shook his head.

  “Steaks are ready!” John plopped the platter down in the middle of the table.

  Bishop swung around and reached for a piece of celery in the salad bowl. In no time everyone was making their way to the table. He hoped Angel hurried up and sat down next to him, because he didn’t like the way Busty was suddenly eyeing him. She had the look of a hungry shark.

  “Well, hello. Another handsome Navy SEAL.” She slithered next to him to make room for Herc on the other side of her. “My name is Candy. Looks like Tawny and I are going to have to share you, honey.”

  Didn’t John say their names were Bambi and Fawn? Bishop glanced questioningly at John when hearing the name Tawny. John was reaching for a steak, and shrugged it off as if to say, ‘doesn’t really matter.’

  “You are a SEAL, aren’t you, honey?”

  The woman was older than he’d first thought, and was wearing enough makeup to cover the entire cast of a burlesque show. “Yes, ma’am.” Where the hell is Angel? He fixed a baked potato, trying to ignore Candy, who was either a club dancer, barfly, or prostitute, politely. He glanced at Wizard. “Where’s your date?”

  He spoke around a mouthful. “Couldn’t get her out of bed, man. Wore her out.”

  Laughter erupted around the table. “Yeah, right!” John said in a disbelieving tone.

  Razor waved Wizard away. “You’re full of it!” His lady friend decided to sit on his lap.

  The patio door opened, and Angel and Misty walked out. It appeared the two had become fast friends. And why wouldn’t they? He already knew Angel was easy-going, and Misty was the kind of woman who liked everyone until given a reason not to. Angel squeezed in next to him, giving him an innocent look.

  She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I see you’ve made a new friend.”

  “Used to be my type,” he said, plopping a whole shrimp into his mouth. “The kind of woman I can walk away from.”

  “That’s sad.” Bishop stopped chewing, and stared into Angel’s eyes for a moment. “What’s your type now?” There was a sparkle of humor simmering in her eyes.

  She was serious. Bishop thought about it for a moment. He couldn’t ever remember wanting to fuck a woman as much as he wanted to fuck Angel at that very moment. He wanted to erase the teasing amusement in her pretty eyes, and see it replaced with smoky desire. He wanted her lips to part with pleasure, to hear her whimpers as he loved her with his mouth and hands. The urge to taste her passion ran strongly in his blood, heating it to the boiling point.

  “When we get home I’ll show you what my type is.” He paused for effect. “If we make it home.”

  “That sounds like a threat,” Angel joked, plopping a piece of cucumber into her mouth. “So, where’s the ocean?”

  “See those palms over there?” He indicated the palms on the other side of the pool. She nodded. “There’s a path there that leads to the beach. We’ll take a walk after we eat if you want.”

  “I’d like that.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  Damn! Her impulsive kiss caught him by surprise. He went back to eating his meal. How the hell am I ever going to say goodbye to her? She was digging her way toward his heart so fast it was scaring the hell out of him. Somewhere between Africa and home, the walls he’d built-up over the years to protect him had tumbled down, leaving him exposed…weak.

  Diana had warned him that someday he’d meet the right person and then everything would change. She’d said that he might not recognize it at first, that he might even confuse it for something else, like lust. Hell, lust was easy to recognize. Lust was easy to accept, and Bishop wasn’t ready to believe it was anything else. Diana had told him there’d be no running away from it, only he was stronger than that. Wasn’t he?

  Deep down in his gut he unwillingly acknowledged the answer to that, and he knew that he needed to get in control of his emotions again, and soon. To do that he needed to distance himself from Angel.

  My salvation. Do I really need salvation? Bishop thought about it for a moment. What did he have to show for the last ten years besides a scarred up body and a fat bank account? Yeah, I do need rescuing. But he wasn’t going to hurt Angel by using her and just walking away. The more involved they got, the harder it was going to be.

  His gut clenched with dread, because Bishop knew that they were already too involved.

  Chapter 8

  Something was different. Angel had sensed the change in Bishop before they even left John and Misty’s home the day before. He had become aloof, almost indifferent towards her. Cold. The hardened Navy SEAL Diana had described to her was apparently back and had replaced the considerate, giving man she’d come to know in the days before. Had she done something to trigger the change? She thought about the women his friends had brought with them to the cookout. Maybe I don’t have what Bishop needs.

  A man on a dangerous mission, gone for months at a time, the conditions and sacrifice’s he’d had to make, all had eventually taken a toll. Hadn’t Bishop told her that he wanted something good in his life? It seemed that all he really wanted was a good girl to fuck, and she’d been so willing because Diana, damn her, had filled Angel’s head with stories and pictures of him, and Angel had fallen for him before she even realized it.

  That wasn’t fair, Angel thought to herself. Diana couldn’t possibly have known she’d fall for her brother. Blinking back the tears, Angel finished washing Barnie’s dishes, and then refilled them with fresh water and food. He was right there at her feet, waiting for her to put them on his mat. Once that was done she poured herself a cup of coffee and decided to take it out back. There was a hammock chair underneath the huge oak tree.

  Making sure Barnie didn’t slip out behind her, she made her way there. Diana and Alex had turned their backyard into a beautiful, lush jungle of palms, flowering plants, and trees. There was a huge Koi fishpond in the middle, and bird houses and feeders were everywhere. Everything looked so green and full this time of year. The nylon hammock swallowed her up as she sank into it, gently rocking back and forth.

  Barnie was watching her from the window, no doubt wishing he could join
her. Then she saw movement behind him and realized Bishop was up. He’d gone out the night before and Angel woke to find him sleeping on the couch. What did I do? Then she shook her head, already knowing the answer. Nothing, that’s what. He was the one pulling away.

  Her phone began to ring, and she dug into her front pocket for it. “Hello?

  “Miss Davenport?” asked a male voice.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Tom with Pesky Pests. I’m just calling to let you know your house has been cleared for re-entry.”

  Maybe this was her solution. “Okay, Tom, great. Is there anything I need to know?”

  “Nope, all looks good, there’s no sign of any termites, and the gas has cleared. We’ll be back in a couple months to check just to make sure we got them all, and you have a two-year warranty. So if you have any concerns or problems during that time just give us a call and we’ll be right out. Once you get the repairs done, your house will be good as new.”

  That was Angel’s next big expense. “Thank you.” She flipped her cell closed and considered whether or not she should go home now or just wait another couple of days for Diana and Alex to return. That had been her original plan. Would Bishop care if she left?

  As if just thinking about him could conjure him up, he surprised her by opening the door. Their gazes met. “Good morning.”

  She didn’t like the sound of indifference in his tone. “Hi.” Angel forced a smile on her face, willing herself to act as if there was nothing wrong. “You look tired,” she added, noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes. “Tonight you can have the guest bedroom.”

  His expression turned into a frown. “I thought I told you—”

  “You won’t be taking the bed away from me. I just got a call from the termite people. I can go home now.” When did I decide to go home? “There’s no need for both of us to be here for Barnie.”

  “No, but I just got a call that our furlough might be cut short. We were told to remain on standby, which means we can be called away at any time now.”

  Angel’s jaw dropped. Oh, God! Her eyes were burning, which meant tears were on the way. Bishop couldn’t see her reaction, but she couldn’t help it. When she raised her cup to her lips it didn’t surprise her to see her hand trembling. She chomped down on her bottom lip.

  “Angel…”

  Crap! He must have noticed it, too. She remained silent, slowly meeting his gaze, painfully aware of the tears that were swimming in her eyes.

  “Can we talk?”

  Not what she expected. “About what? Your actions speak louder than words.”

  He stiffened. “Care to explain that?”

  She took a deep breath “Something changed yesterday at the cookout. Since then you’ve gone out of your way to avoid me. I finally figured it out.” She gave Bishop a watery smile.

  “What did you figure out?”

  “That you got what you wanted, and now you’re done with me.” There, she’d said it. Let him deny it. It was the only explanation she could think of.

  The blue in Bishop’s eyes became so dark they looked like glassy sapphires, and they appeared just as sharp. As his expression grew taut and darkened, a tic appeared in his lean jaw and Angel lowered her gaze nervously. She realized instantly that she might have gone too far, and chalked up her runaway tongue to being hurt. He had to know she was confused over his sudden distance.

  “Do you really believe sex is all I wanted from you?” The words were spoken between his teeth.

  Shrugging, Angel reluctantly raised her gaze, meeting the fury in his and not backing down. “What am I supposed to think, Bishop? I thought things were good between us, that we had a connection. Then yesterday it was like a switch being flipped off, and I’m left feeling like it’s something I did—”

  “No,” he walked forward and sat down on the stone bench in front of the pond.

  “You can’t kiss and fuck me one minute, and then turn all cold and distant the next. Unless you’re a totally heartless bastard.” Angel could tell he didn’t like what she’d said.

  “It’s nothing you did, Angel. And I owe you an explanation.” His legs parted and he leaned forward, clasped hands dangling between them. “You know what kind of life I lead. When I joined the SEALS I promised myself that nothing and no one would get in the way of my being the best I could be, and there was only one way I thought I could accomplish that.”

  “How?”

  “By not putting myself in a position where I cared for someone else. I’ve seen what it does to men in battle when their minds aren’t on what they’re doing, but on someone back home, on a situation, or they’re worried about leaving a widow and children behind. They make mistakes, and sometimes it costs them their lives.”

  Diana had told Angel something similar, but she couldn’t accept hearing it from Bishop. “That’s life, Bishop. Do you honestly think you can control your emotions like that? Is it your intention to spend the rest of your life alone?”

  He looked at her long and hard, and then exhaled deeply. “I used to think so.”

  Used to? Angel was starting to feel hope. She had to know. “So what happened?”

  “You’re what happened.” His voice was hard and laced with self-loathing. “Just for a moment I reached out and took what I really wanted. I was selfish, Angel. I should never have touched you that first morning.”

  “I wanted it, too, Bishop. I’ve wanted you for a long time. Do you think you don’t deserve what everyone else has?” He didn’t answer her. Angel shook her head with disbelief. “You can’t plan your life that way.”

  “Look,” he scooted to the end of the bench, which put him in closer proximity to her. “Yesterday I realized I needed to back off a little. You’re nothing like the kind of women I’m used to, the kind I don’t think twice about when I leave them. The kind who don’t give me a second thought when I leave them. But you—” he hesitated as though searching for the right words, “Christ, it’s only been a few days and I’m already too involved with you. I know that now.”

  “So what does that mean?” His explanation angered Angel, so much so that she began to tremble. How could he live like that? How could anyone? And where did he get such an idea? For the first time in her life she wanted to hit someone. The thought frightened her. This time, when tears gathered in her eyes, they were from angry frustration.

  “Then my leaving shouldn’t be a problem.” She worked her way as gracefully as she could from the hammock swing. “I’ll leave you my number. When you get the call just leave a message and I’ll come back over to check on Barnie.”

  “Angel, you don’t have to leave.”

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll be a temptation or something?” She was proud of herself for remaining composed. She couldn’t afford to break down in front of him, not totally. There would be time for that when she got home and was alone.

  Bishop didn’t respond to her question, but the muscle working in his jaw said it all. He didn’t try to stop her when she walked past him to go back inside. When she opened the kitchen door, Barnie tried to dart out and Angel bent to catch him. She didn’t realize Bishop was right behind her, and the next thing she knew his hands were at her hips to keep from knocking her down when his body crashed into her.

  “Oh!” She straightened and stepped away from him as if his touch burned her.

  “Sorry.” He closed the door behind him.

  Angel set Barnie on the floor and kept going toward the stairs. The sooner she got out of there the better. She rushed up the stairs and headed straight for her overnight bag. With every item she slammed inside, her anger grew another notch. At the same time tears ran down her cheeks. It’s not as if we’re in a relationship or anything. Why am I so damned emotional?

  Angel knew why. Because Bishop’s reasoning didn’t make any sense to her. They had something, and they could have even more. Thinking he could go through life as a loner, without meaningful relationships, was insane. He was cheating himself. Mumbl
ing angrily beneath her breath, she looked around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Then, she zipped up her bag, grabbed it, and left the bedroom.

  She was halfway down the stairs when she noticed Bishop standing at the bottom. Angel wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking he was there to stop her. She hesitated halfway down, then took a breath and continued. It was all she could do not to hit him out of anger as she stormed past him. Halfway to the front door she stopped, dropped her bag, and swung around.

  “You know what, Bishop?” She waited for him to turn her way. Their gazes met. “You fight for your country, but you won’t fight for yourself. If you’re not willing to take a chance, maybe you don’t deserve what other people have.”

  His jaw tensed. “I don’t want to hurt you, Angel.”

  “You can’t have it both ways,” she said angrily. “Emotions have a sneaky way of attaching themselves to physical situations between people after a while, unless you’re a machine. Maybe you should go back to your bimbos!”

  “Angel—”

  “Don’ worry about me, Bishop. It’s been a nice few days, and you certainly took care of the itch I had.” At that, his expression turned dark, his lips thinned. It was clear he didn’t like her making light of their time together, yet he remained stubbornly silent.

  She wanted to say something to hurt him, the way that she was hurting, anything that would get a reaction out of him other than stony silence. If they’d been in her home she would be picking up things and throwing them at him right now. Damn him! Why is he in such control when I’m torn up inside? It wasn’t fair! But then Angel realized she couldn’t. She didn’t want to hurt him, especially if this was the last time they’d see each other. Not when every assignment he went on could be his last.

  Knowing that took all the fire right out of her. “Stay safe, Bishop. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.”

  With a quivering bottom lip Angel picked up her bag and swung around. She slammed the front door behind her, got into her car, and drove home.