Beneath These Shadows

by Meghan March

  Really, universe? How is that fair? I had no idea how I was going to explain about the hotel and that I wasn’t staying there . . . so for now, I wasn’t going to mention it.

  But I couldn’t avoid Bishop completely. I glanced over my shoulder to look at him. The line between his brows deepened as he stared down at me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  EDEN GRABBED HER COFFEE AND a bottle of water as I reached into my pocket for my wallet and slid a twenty across the counter.

  Fabienne took it and tucked it away in the cash register before making change. But she didn’t drop the change in my hand like I expected. She tightened her fist around the bills before whispering, “You take it easy on that girl. I think she’s run into some trouble and probably doesn’t have the first clue what to do about it.”

  We locked eyes, and her deep brown ones were as serious as I’d ever seen them.

  “Thanks. I got it from here.”

  I waited for my coffee before crossing the room to sit in the seat across from Eden. Her suitcase was tucked behind her chair.

  What the hell? “You leaving town again?”

  I didn’t know why the thought pissed me off so much, but it did. Nothing about this girl made sense to me, including the pull I felt toward her.

  “No.”

  “Then why the hell is your suitcase with you instead of at the hotel?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, but I waited her out. Pink tinged her cheeks when she finally looked back up at me. “I couldn’t keep racking up the cost of the room. I need something less expensive.”

  I had to believe her pride took a beating with that answer, but she sure as hell hadn’t seemed to be worried about money when she’d tossed down her credit card the night I checked her in. Something had changed, and I took a guess.

  “Daddy cut off your credit card?”

  All color drained from her face. “Something like that.”

  Fuck. Now she was broke and alone in a city that didn’t have a hell of a lot of spare mercy.

  “Bishop, your coffee’s ready,” the barista called.

  Before I turned back to collect it, I stared down at Eden. “Bring your shit over to Voodoo when you’re done here. Remember what happened the last time you dragged a suitcase all over town?”

  She bit her lip but didn’t reply.

  I stalked to the counter and grabbed my coffee.

  I DRANK MY ENTIRE BOTTLE of water and all of my coffee as I considered Bishop’s order to bring myself and my stuff to Voodoo. I didn’t want to keep relying on him for help because it highlighted how unable to help myself I was.

  What would happen when his friend called about the hotel? I didn’t have answers that would satisfy him. But maybe I could give him cash and ask him to pay the hotel?

  And how would I do that without explaining why I ran? Yeah. No.

  Why am I such a failure at this? One day I think I’ve got it all handled, and the next it falls apart. Maybe that meant tomorrow would be better. I had to keep pushing forward. There was no other option.

  Ten minutes later, I’d gathered my courage. With my suitcase in tow, I stepped through the door of Voodoo Ink for the third time in less than a week. For a girl with no tattoos, that had to be unusual.

  I hoped to see Delilah inside, but there was no sign of her. Instead, I saw Bishop standing behind the counter with a redhead leaning over it.

  “Come on, you know you wanna.”

  I assumed her tone was supposed to sound sultry, but instead it came out whiny and obnoxious. From Bishop’s crossed arms, rigid posture, and definite scowl, it appeared that he really didn’t wanna whatever it was she was offering.

  His gaze, rife with annoyance, flicked up to mine as I rolled my carry-on inside. I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but I dropped my bag and ran across the shop before slipping around the counter and throwing myself at him. It was pure instinct, but it was my turn to rescue him.

  Bishop dropped his arms quickly enough to catch me as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  “Baby, I missed you so much!” I buried both hands in his hair and crushed my lips to his.

  His muscles tensed beneath my hold, and then he did something completely unexpected—he lowered one hand to my ass and slid the other up to the back of my head to tilt it a little to the side. I opened my mouth, intending to pull away, but his tongue slid inside and he kissed me like . . . like I was exactly who I was pretending to be. A girlfriend away for too long and desperate to get her hands on her man.

  “Should’ve figured.” The redhead’s voice was a distant murmur, barely audible over the buzzing in my ears.

  Bishop was kissing me. Holding me. Pulling me closer until I could feel a ridge beneath his jeans pressing against my center.

  Holy. Hell.

  I lost track of everything but the kiss.

  The door chimed, but it was another long moment before Bishop pulled his lips away and lowered me to my feet.

  I blinked twice, my hand going to my mouth as it registered what the hell I’d just done.

  Mauled him.

  In front of a customer.

  What in the world possessed me?

  Bishop ran a hand through his now disheveled hair and stared at me like he’d never seen me before in his life.

  I scrambled for something to say. Anything to dispel this awkwardness. “You looked like you could use rescuing . . .”

  His brows rose at my mumbled excuse.

  More words tumbled out.

  “So . . . I guess that makes us closer to even in the rescue department.”

  I waited for a response. Any response at all. But I got nothing. Bishop turned and walked away, down a back hallway until he shoved open a door and slammed it behind him.

  Well, crap.

  Nice going, E. Really. Nice.

  WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK?

  I dropped onto the couch in the break room and stared at my hands.

  Hands that had been wrapped around Eden’s curvy ass.

  Fuck. Just like that kiss the night I carried her out of the bar, it shouldn’t have happened. I should have held her off and set her right back on her feet as soon as she launched herself at me, but I didn’t think. I just . . . fucking reacted. The sweet taste of her hadn’t changed, and my cock was just as rock hard as it had been that night.

  I wanted more.

  Shit.

  I knew better than to get mixed up with her, but fuck if it wasn’t sounding like the best idea I’d had in a long damn time.

  You looked like you could use rescuing . . .

  When was the last time anyone had ever given enough of a fuck to want to rescue me? I hadn’t let anyone get that close. That’s what moving around every couple of years did for you. Kept you light. No roots. No cares. No one to pry into your past and try to dig out your darkest secrets. Nothing to lose. And that was the way I’d always liked it.

  So why was I letting myself get sucked in?

  I had absolutely no fucking clue.

  The door to the employee break room opened and smacked against the wall. I jerked my head around to see if it was Eden, shocked that she might follow me in here.

  But it wasn’t. It was Con.

  “I know I was drunk, but that’s the girl from the Mardi Gras party, right? She here for some ink?”

  “Yeah, that’s her, but negative on the ink. She look like the type to you?”

  He tilted his head at me. “That don’t mean shit. You’ve seen Van. Wouldn’t think she’d be the type either, but you’d be wrong.”

  “True.”

  “So, what’s she doing here if she’s not here for ink? Waiting for you?”

  I jammed a hand into my hair. There was no way in hell I was going to explain what had just happened. Fuck, I didn’t even know myself.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m working it out.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  Con’s eyebrow rose. “You
really expect me to believe that you’re not sitting back here avoiding her because you’re fucking terrified of getting sucked into the classy-broad trap? Been there. Done that. Never want out.”

  From outside the break room, I could hear a female voice.

  “Van out there talking to her?” I asked.

  Con nodded. “Yeah, and they’re probably best friends by now. If you were trying to get rid of her, you’re probably screwed.”

  I dropped my head back until it smacked against the wall. “She’s running from something, and I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with her. I can’t leave her to fend for herself because the next place I’d see her would probably be on the six o’clock news.”

  “Well, shit. Can’t let that happen. She need a place to stay?”

  “Yeah.” I remembered Charlie’s offer from the other day. “But I think I have an idea.”

  “Charlie?” How Con knew that’s what I was thinking, I had no clue.

  I nodded. “She was in here the other day and offered up her old place, but Eden was staying at the Sonesta until today.”

  “Why’d she bail on that?”

  “Money, I guess.”

  Con’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “She sure doesn’t look like she’s hurtin’ for cash.”

  “I guess looks are deceiving in this situation. I don’t know what the real deal is, and she won’t tell me shit.”

  “Then maybe you need to do your own digging.”

  Heels clicked down the hallway, and Vanessa stuck her head through the doorway before I could decide how to respond to that.

  “You guys want me to go pick up something for lunch while you sit back here and brood?”

  Con reached out and snagged her hand to pull her closer. “I thought we were grabbing something.”

  “That was before I realized Eden hasn’t had jambalaya, étouffée, or oysters yet. Someone needs to help that girl get a true taste of New Orleans before she leaves.”

  “She ain’t leavin’.” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about speaking them.

  Vanessa’s appraising gaze landed on me. “I’m pretty sure that’s not up to you.” She shifted to look at Con. “He sounds like just as much of a barbarian as you do.”

  Con laughed and lifted her hand to his mouth to press a kiss to it. “You like it when I’m a barbarian.”

  “True, but I also like showing off my city to people who will appreciate it.”

  “Fine, but watch yourselves. The city’s still lousy with tourists.”

  Van pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re starting to sound like a grumpy old man. We’ll be back in an hour or so. Is that enough time to go over the books?”

  Con nodded. “Yeah. Have fun, princess.”

  She kissed him again and waved at me. “See ya, Bish.”

  Van closed the door behind her, leaving Con and me in the office.

  “When’s your next appointment?” he asked.

  “Two thirty.” I glanced at the clock. “Should be here any minute.”

  “Then I guess you better get to it.”

  I pushed off the couch and stood. “Yes, sir.” I gave him a mock salute and he punched me in the arm when I neared the door.

  “Don’t fucking salute me, you asshole.”

  I laughed, but my brain was firmly fixed on Eden. Maybe Vanessa would get her story out of her, and then I’d have some kind of clue what I was dealing with.

  EVEN THOUGH I’D MET THEM last night, seeing the blond couple come into the tattoo shop still flipped all my accepted stereotypes on their head. Vanessa was wearing a skirt and blouse and heels, and Con was wearing ripped jeans and a T-shirt with a chain hanging from his front pocket to his back. Both of his arms were covered in even more tattoos than Bishop had. Objectively, Con and Vanessa looked like the oddest couple I could imagine putting together, but the way his arm wrapped around her waist and how his eyes softened when he looked down at her told me there was nothing odd about them.

  What did people think when they saw Bishop and me together? Except we’re not actually together.

  Con hadn’t spared me much more than a chin jerk before striding in the direction of the room Bishop had retreated to, but Vanessa stopped in front of me.

  “Hey! Eden, right? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m . . . waiting for Bishop, I guess.”

  Curiosity lit her blue eyes. “There are a lot of girls who wait for Bishop on any given day, but from what I saw last night, you seem to be different.”

  I thought of the girl who’d been flirting with him before I’d literally thrown myself at him. “I’d like to think I’m different. But . . . it’s not like that.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I know how that goes. Trust me.”

  With Vanessa’s easy response, I felt this strange and instant kinship with her. I could only imagine what it had been like when she and the tattooed blond giant had gotten together. The entire time I’d been in New Orleans, I’d had this feeling that by some strange design, the universe was dropping people into my life at the exact moment I needed them. Bishop, Delilah, Fabienne, Yve. Maybe today was Vanessa’s day.

  She dived right into a series of questions, asking me what I’d seen and eaten. When she discovered that I hadn’t gotten a full New Orleans experience, she vowed that she would change it for me before striding off down the hall to follow Con.

  When Vanessa returned, she adjusted her purse—Prada, if I wasn’t mistaken—and smiled again. “I know we just met last night, and I promise I’m not psycho, but I really would love to take you out for lunch.”

  I had to go with my gut. “I’d like that.” I looked at my suitcase beside my chair. “What do I do with this?”

  She reached for the handle and pulled it behind the counter. “No worries. It’ll be here when you get back.”

  As we walked to the front door of the shop, I heard the creaky door open behind us. I whipped my head around to see Bishop standing in the back hallway, his arms crossed over his chest. He said nothing, just watched me leave.

  Was he thinking of the way he’d kissed the hell out of me? Because I was. The unreadable expression on his face gave me absolutely no clue. As I pulled the door shut behind me, his gaze stayed locked on mine through the glass until I turned away.

  Vanessa must have noticed because once outside on the sidewalk, she said, “Bishop is intense. If it’s not like that between you two, you’ll have to learn to ignore it.”

  I choked out a laugh. “He’s pretty impossible to ignore.”

  She tilted her head and looked back through the window. “From the way he’s still looking at you, I would say definitely impossible.”

  It took everything I had to keep walking rather than turn around again to see what she was talking about.

  “So,” she continued, “you’ve intrigued the stoic Bishop. It’s a feat many have tried to accomplish and failed.”

  This time my laugh was genuine. “I wouldn’t go that far. I think I’m more of an annoyance at this point than anything else.”

  “Oh, hon, I think you’re completely wrong about that. If he considered you an annoyance, he’d grunt and tell you to back off. I’ve seen it firsthand. You, he watches like he’s dying to know what you look like naked.”

  My mind skipped back to the night I woke up to a note on my pillow. Had he seen me naked? I’d woken up wearing a T-shirt and the same panties I’d worn the day before, and if he was in my room . . . yeah, he had to have seen me mostly naked.

  Why had I not realized that? Oh my God.

  Vanessa noted my quiet and her eyebrows rose. “I know we’re still closer to the stranger side of the spectrum than the friend side, but sometimes you need another woman to spill to when it comes to stuff like this.”

  I’d never had that kind of confidante before. And even more than that, I’d never had anything like this to share.

  I decided to speak in vague terms. “I’m totally out of my league with him.
He’s all tough and tattooed and way too sexy for his own good, and I’m over here practically wearing a nun’s habit for all the experience I’ve had in my life.”

  Vanessa stopped mid-stride and grabbed my arm. “Are you a virgin?”

  “No. God, no.” But close enough, I added silently.

  She pulled me toward a little restaurant with a giant oyster for a sign. “This is it. We’re going to need wine for this.”

  Even now, two days later, the thought of alcohol still made my stomach flip. “Can I pass on the wine? I sort of had . . . an incident that wasn’t so great.”

  “I’m sensing a story there. I’ll have wine, you eat the bread they bring to the table, and we’ll call it even.”

  For the first time in my entire adult life, I felt the kind of solidarity with another woman that I’d seen in movies. Should I tell her what happened with Bishop? What did I really have to lose?

  A host seated us at the only empty table in the restaurant, and I let the entire story of the last few days loose, minus the part about why I left the hotel in such a hurry.

  By the time I finished with how I quite literally jumped him at Voodoo this afternoon, Vanessa had drained her wineglass and was fighting back a laugh.

  “This is the best thing I’ve heard in way too long. God, I can only imagine how shocked he was when you threw yourself at him.” She held a hand over her mouth. “I don’t know why I love the idea of Bishop off-balance, but it makes me so happy. He’s turned aloof into an art form since the day he showed up and Delilah made Con hire him.”

  “Aloof is one way to describe it.”

  “You’ve definitely shifted his world out of order, and sometimes that’s exactly what we need in order to remind us that we’re alive. I think Bishop has just been existing for a long time, so this could be the best thing that has ever happened to him.”

  I eyed the empty wineglass in front of her. “I’m not sure I’d go that far.”

  “You’d be surprised. Sometimes what we need is the opposite of what we expect. I’m living proof. I never expected to find everything missing from my life in that big tattooed Viking of a man, but I did. It scares the hell out of me to think how different my life might be if I hadn’t accepted his dares.”