He had to be out of his damn mind.
Showing up at her place was the stupidest thing he’d ever done and going there when he knew she wasn’t going to be home was dangerous.
When he arrived, he’d had no choice but to break in. The only thing that saved his ass was that she didn’t have an alarm system. She also had a key hidden in a potted plant on the porch.
How did he know?
He remembered Miles Killion joking about it.
It was dangerous, stupid, and it was going to get her hurt. Lucian was going to tell her to lose the key, if she didn’t shoot him first for being in her space.
Inside, he wandered around the much smaller home.
While he should have felt claustrophobic in the townhouse, he didn’t. It was a typical brownstone in the historic part of the city, but it felt…warm—like her. Lucian knew it was wrong to walk through her space, but he was curious and as nervous as hell. If he didn’t do something, he was going to make himself insane.
Honestly, he couldn’t believe he was even there.
This place belonged to a woman he had to pretend he hated. Only he wasn’t able to keep up the farce. When she’d come to his place, ring the gate buzzer, and beg to talk to him, he had a way to avoid her.
To protect himself.
Once he saw her face to face, and she’d touched him, he couldn’t fight anymore. Pretending to be angry with her was such a stupid thing to do.
It was childish.
More importantly, he saw how he hurt her. Bishop had been forced to walk around for ten years, carrying that guilt.
That was horrible.
He was a bastard.
If she did kick his ass out, or shoot him, he probably deserved it.
No.
He definitely did.
Lucian continued wandering to quiet his rattled nerves. The place smelled like her, and it was making him edgy.
It was waking long dead things in him.
Along the mantle over the brick fireplace, he stopped to look at all the pictures. There were ones of Miles Killion dressed as sheriff and ones of all of her siblings.
He met a few of her brothers when meeting with Miles, and they were good people.
One was a doctor.
One was a soldier.
One was a vet.
They all looked alike. There was that telltale Killion red hair, the same eyes, and the similar smile. Lucian wondered what it would feel like having that kind of circle around him. He was curious what it would be like never to be alone, even when you felt like the world hated you.
He’d never know.
It wasn’t his path in life.
As he left the living room, he found her kitchen. It took him aback.
It was bright, sunny, and made his heart ache. Bishop was so much more than what he saw. The woman was multifaceted and had so many layers.
He was curious.
With each room of her home, the woman was becoming more and more fascinating. She liked a small place, it was immaculate, and she liked sunny colors.
Wow.
They were total opposites.
That alone made him want to leave.
He almost did too. The only reason he stayed was the next room. Heading back to the living room to escape out the front door, he saw it. There, off the main space, was another small room not far from his escape route.
Closing it off were French doors, and he was curious. Was it an office?
A storage room?
Opening the door, he hit the light switch. The room flooded with warm yellow light from the vintage lamp hanging above a comfortable, overstuffed chair. Around it, were the things he could appreciate more than anything.
Books.
Sheriff Bishop Killion loved books.
That one thing alone melted the ice in his heart. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
It gave him hope.
His fondness for books helped him escape the last ten years. He’d read countless ones, sometimes one or two a day. He found solace in the stories, where he didn’t have to think about his life, and what he’d lost. Instead, he could focus on what was in front of him.
Peace.
The rational part of him wanted to leave. Only he couldn’t help himself.
While he should head back to Graymoor, he couldn’t do it. He needed a place to lay low. Getting to her place had been a nightmare. He’d had to scale his own gate, walk into town, and hope no one saw him.
Lucian didn’t want to head back out.
He began making excuses why he should stay.
Then something caught his attention.
There was a book on the footstool.
At Graymoor, he had the same book on his tablet. He’d planned to read it this weekend. While he preferred digital, the sheriff was more into a book.
He could appreciate that.
He had a room full of them.
Moving into her personal space, he swore he was only going to read the first few pages. He was amused that they had the same taste in books, and this would distract him.
It would also calm his nerves.
Cautiously, he settled into her big reading chair. His body sunk in, and he was in heaven.
Book.
Chair.
Place to hide.
He felt safe there. It was odd, but he did.
This was his ideal moment. As he opened the cover, Lucian forgot about everything else. Instead, he fell into the story and did what he’d intended.
Oh, he read the first ten pages.
Then the second.
Before he knew it, he was so engrossed that time stopped for him. Everything stopped.
He was at peace in her home.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
It was good to be home.
As soon as she parked her truck in front of the brownstone, Bishop was relieved. She’d headed to her favorite Italian place and picked up a tray of lasagna.
Being sheriff had its advantages.
This was definitely one of them.
The local businesses that had supported her father, now did the same for her. She didn’t have to buy a piece of lasagna. She got the whole big carb-y lovefest to go. Apparently, she looked like she needed to eat.
Oh, and boy did she ever. She was starving. This was just the burden in her life. Sadly, Bishop couldn’t cook to save her soul. Takeout was her only means of survival. Before her father had died, she’d head to his place, and they’d eat together.
Now she dined alone—which, in some cases, was fine by her. She was a workaholic, and she didn’t like to focus on anything but her job. It was really the only thing left in her life.
The more she thought about paperwork, take out lasagna, and the deputies she had to keep in line, the less static crept into her brain.
And the less she thought about HIM.
As she’d seen from her last run in with him, that was best for everyone involved. Clearly, Lucian didn’t want to have anything to do with her, and he never would.
As she put her key in the lock, she precariously balanced her files, lasagna, and the messenger bag haphazardly hung over her shoulder.
If something had to fall, she prayed it wasn’t the cheesy goodness. She’d rather explain to the media circling her home why she was picking up papers, than why she was eating lasagna off her front steps.
Yes, she was that damn hungry.
The second she stepped inside her home, she knew something was off. Bishop immediately realized that she wasn’t alone.
There was cologne in the air. That was definitely wrong and out of place. Since she hadn’t had a man in her place in the last few years, she knew there was someone lurking.
Who was stupid enough to break into the sheriff’s home? They were about to have a really bad night.
Not far from where she stood, her reading room light was flooding into the living room. She didn’t leave it on when she left. In fact, she always closed the French doors when she lef
t that room.
It appeared that was where her intruder was hanging out. Yeah, she hoped she didn’t have to shoot anyone. Bishop liked her job and really wanted to keep it.
Quietly, as to not to alert the intruder, she placed everything on the table in the entryway. As she pulled her gun, she crept across the wood floor to the doorway.
Then she listened.
She could hear pages turning.
Had someone broke in to read her books?
Really?
This was beyond weird. Without saying a word, she peeked around the corner.
What she saw nearly brought her to her knees.
There, in her chair, was Lucian. He was reading her book, his body lax, and his face at peace. He was in his own little world, and it made her heart skip.
He was meeting her halfway.
Avalon had been right.
She couldn’t believe that Lucian was reading in her little library. Once that shock had passed, she couldn’t believe he’d BROKEN into her home.
It was amusing.
It appeared the ex-DA had a little larceny in him after all. That made her smile. Maybe there was hope.
Tucking away her gun, she leaned against the doorframe to study him.
He was completely engrossed in the book. The hoodie he’d worn the other day to hide his face was on, but he wasn’t wearing it over his head.
Oh, he had on his eye patch, but he looked serene.
And sexy.
Lord have mercy, but he did look like a freaking pirate. It nearly melted her right into the floor. She watched his large hands flip the pages, and the emotions flood his face.
He’d smile.
And he was handsome.
His brow would scrunch up, and he was intense.
Jesus.
She wanted him more today than ten years ago before the accident. Then at that point, in his life, he was cocky and arrogant. Now he was stripped down to the genuine man, nothing to hide behind, and that was rare to find in anyone.
His guard was down.
She knew she needed to get his attention. While Bishop could stare at him for the next hour, it would freak him out. So, she cleared her throat.
He actually jumped.
Then he stared at her.
“You scared me.”
Bishop could handle this a few ways, but she knew with Lucian, he was apt to bolt.
So…
She went with easy and breezy.
“I could say the same for you. You broke into my place. Are you adding cat burglar to your resume?”
“It’s not breaking in when you use a key,” he offered.
His heart was pounding in his chest. She was watching him, and he felt that need to run. Maybe this had been a really bad idea. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this conversation.
What had to happen was going to be intense.
Just like her.
“I should go.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes. Be gentle with my book, Lucian. If you lose my place, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”
He stared down at it. “I have it at home. I didn’t start it yet. I saw it and couldn’t resist.”
“It’s really good. What part are you on?” she asked, setting her hair free. She noticed he was watching her. Bishop knew she had to stay calm, keep it easy, and keep him guessing. If she didn’t, he’d overthink it.
Her gift was reading people. Along with luck, it helped her do her job.
“He just found out that his wife is dead.”
“Yeah, ouch. It’s wild after that. I’m only about fifty pages ahead of you. When you think you know who did it, we can discuss it. I’m curious if I’m suspicious by nature, or if everyone has that trait.”
He didn’t know what to say.
Was she asking him to a book discussion?
Yeah, he didn’t really come there for that. He needed to come clean.
“Can you help me carry dinner into the kitchen?” she asked, leaving the doorway. It was so hard to leave him there, so close to the front door.
She prayed he followed.
It took a few seconds, but then she heard him coming up behind her.
Tonight might not be a bad night after all, as long as she could keep everything in check.
“I don’t cook, so takeout it is. How do you feel about lasagna?”
“You’re making me dinner?”
“Well, no. Pietro’s is making US dinner. I was planning to heat it up and make a salad.”
Okay, that was a lie.
She had planned to heat it up, gorge on carbs, and then fall into a food comma, but for him…she’d share.
Hell!
If he stayed and didn’t run, he could have hers.
After all, he showed up.
It was a start. Bishop had to hope that this meant something. She had to hope it was going to be an easier road once they got past this.
“I don’t understand.”
She handed him the disposable foil pan holding the precious Italian food. “You’re here, we’re going to have dinner, and then I figured you wanted to talk.”
He did.
Only he wasn’t ready for this.
She was making it hard to figure out her next move. In court, he was the king of chess. Ironically, he was being taken down by a Bishop.
That made him want to laugh.
No woman had ever been able to do that to him. Everything Lucian ever did was carefully plotted, planned, and executed. Bishop was some out of control force, threatening to scatter all the pieces in the game to Hell and back.
As they headed into the kitchen, she dropped the files on the counter.
“Work?” he asked. “If you’re busy, I can…”
“Nope. Work will wait. The dead will have their day. You and I having dinner isn’t going to keep me from finding the killer. I can multitask.”
He placed the food on the stove.
It looked like she was going to corner him in her kitchen. That’s when she switched it up again.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
“I like it.”
“Yeah, me too. I like small. I have no time to cook or clean, so it works for me.”
He understood that. Lucian had someone clean for him, but during the weekly visit, he hid in his office. It was off limits.
“How are you at salad?”
“Pardon?” he asked, trying not to look directly at her. All that red hair was distracting. He wanted to touch it. When he’d been sitting in her chair, he could smell her perfume. He’d picked it up that morning when she hunted him down.
“Salad. You know…the green leafy shit in a bowl. Can you make one? I guess I’m asking, or at least hoping, you’re better in a kitchen than I am.”
He was caught off guard again by the switch up.
“You want me to make a salad?”
“Well, I need to get a shower. I was in the morgue and at a crime scene. I don’t know about you, but that’s just way too much death to handle before lasagna.”
He was confused.
“Lucian?”
“I can make a salad. Actually, I can cook.”
“Well, next time, I’ll break into your house and make the salad, and you can make me dinner.”
He stared at her, ready to object, but she walked away.
She was seriously leaving him there to chop up a salad. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he had to figure it out.
Bishop was keeping him off guard.
Somehow, it calmed him. Instead of being freaked out, she was behaving like his presence there was a completely normal occurrence.
Suddenly, he wished it was.
This part of life had been missing. He hadn’t shared a meal with anyone in ten years. In fact, he hadn’t enjoyed food in ten years. Now he was looking forward to a salad.
“Stuff is in the fridge, Lucian!” she called from somewhere upstairs.
He could hear th
e water turning on as it ran through the old pipes, and he was suddenly very aware of everything around him. There was a naked sheriff upstairs.
His body reacted.
He fought it, but he couldn’t hold back.
Jesus!
What had she done to him?
Instead of thinking about it, he pulled off his hoodie, folded it neatly, and then began moving around her kitchen. Everything was easily found, and he appreciated that. Bishop was a very organized person.
Then he began looking for a bowl for salad.
When he opened the first cabinet, he started laughing. There, labeling every shelf, was a little tag describing what went in that spot.
He was a neat freak.
She was completely OCD.
For some reason, that relaxed him. With his gift, he didn’t like chaos. He assumed that was why she was the same.
Pulling down a bowl, he tried to figure out how big of a salad to make.
Bishop looked like she ate salad. She was tall, thin, and healthy. So, he had no choice but to guestimate the quantity.
As he chopped, he stared down at the pan of lasagna. It was in foil, so it couldn’t be microwaved. It was getting cold, so he popped it into the oven.
It was clear that Bishop had never used it before. It was spotless. Yeah, she hadn’t lied.
The woman couldn’t cook.
He didn’t mind.
He’d do this every day for….
Lucian stopped himself.
He was putting things in his mind that he didn’t know would ever happen. He wasn’t that lucky. There was no way she’d be his. When she found out what he’d done, pushing her away, there would be hell to pay.
Yes, she told him her feelings, but he’d run her through the ringer. A lot had happened in the last eight years. For all he knew, she was dating someone.
It irritated him to the point where he ran his hands over his face. He’d forgotten about the scar. While there, he’d forgotten that he wasn’t whole.
Lucian stared at the back door.
He wanted to leave.
He wanted to grab his hoodie, sneak out into the darkness and head home. What was coming would only hurt.
He was sure of it.
The demons he had to face were more than he could take. He wasn’t a man anymore. He was a shell.
As he walked toward his hoodie, he heard her coming.
Shit!
It was too late.
Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) Page 20