Bishop

by A. E. Via

  He tidied around his already clean home and opened all his blinds and doors to allow the morning sunshine in. He’d also have a full view of Bishop in the yard as he worked on his laptop at the dining room table. He’d just turned off the oven when he heard the sound of a truck pulling into his driveway. Edison quickly placed each large muffin on the cooling rack then went to open the front door.

  Bishop wore a black long-sleeve shirt, dirt-stained khakis, and tan construction boots. He waved when Bishop noticed him and he’d been so entranced by his work attire that he hadn’t noticed Trent at the back of the long trailer.

  “B, you want me to bring down the riding mower now?” Trent asked. He had on a loose-fitting tank top and worn jeans, with his overshirt tied around his shaved head to protect him from the sun.

  “Yeah. The weed whackers too,” Bishop said as he climbed the porch steps, his dark eyes roaming up and down Edison’s body. “Good morning.”

  “Hello,” Edison said nonchalantly.

  “May I come in?” Bishop inched closer, giving Edison no choice but to back up and allow him inside or collide into him.

  “Sure.” Edison didn’t hold the door. Instead, he turned and walked towards his kitchen, leaving Bishop to follow.

  “Smells good in here,” Bishop said.

  “Mmhmm,” Edison acknowledged. He took the coffee pot out of the holder and set it on the breakfast bar beside the orange juice, along with paper plates and mugs.

  “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” Bishop said, leaning against the counter.

  “I didn’t. I happen to like muffins in the morning,” Edison said matter-of-factly.

  “Me too.”

  “Then help yourself. Trent too.” Edison turned to pour himself another cup of coffee, not able to stand there and stare at Bishop’s sexiness. He was stirring in a second spoon of sugar when he felt Bishop’s warm breath ghosting over the back of neck.

  “You still mad at me?”

  Edison closed his eyes. Dang that voice. Bishop had the kind of gritty, lust-provoking tone that made it hard for him to think with the head on top of his shoulders. He sipped his hot coffee and placed it back on the counter before he responded, hoping his voice didn’t quiver, “I wasn’t mad.”

  Bishop wrapped his arm around his waist and dipped his head until his nose was behind his ear. “You were. And you had every right to be.” Bishop squeezed him tighter, “Forgive me.”

  Edison’s body betrayed him as he leaned against Bishop’s hard chest.

  “Know that I want you, and I’m here. I won’t run out like that again.” Bishop nipped his earlobe, and Edison’s dick hardened to fullness so fast he swayed on his feet.

  “Mmmm. It drives me crazy the way you respond to me.” Bishop cupped his jaw and turned his head to the side, his lips hovering in the corner of his mouth. “Your virginity is everything. And I want it.”

  “Oh god,” Edison moaned. “Yes, take it, please.”

  “I want the challenge to earn it, Edison. You may think you want me to take it, but if you haven’t given it up so far… then that’s not what you really want. If I’d known that information before last night, I’m not saying I still wouldn’t’ve gone for a taste because I would have. You look fucking delicious, all the time, Eddie…”

  His mouth hung there slack, unmoving, not participating while he fell headfirst for Bishop’s charm.

  Bishop flicked his tongue along Edison’s bottom lip. “But it would’ve been like this… slower… gentler. Like you need.”

  I need you to bend me over my island. But he couldn’t say that without sounding like a slut. And he wasn’t one, he was just horny. So, it was true. Edison had held out the couple of times he’d had the chance to go all the way. Bishop was reading him like an open book. Edison didn’t do it because his partners weren’t being considerate… their touches were demanding, their kisses and affection, nonexistent.

  “Forgive me. And let me do this the right way.” Bishop turned him in his arms.

  Edison blinked to clear his hazy vision. Bishop smelled as if he’d recently showered and had dabbed on a hint of a spicy cologne that worked well with his earthy scent. And Edison couldn’t help but notice Bishop’s fresh haircut and how neat his beard was trimmed. “What do you mean the right way?”

  “I mean,” Bishop said, with both hands around his middle. “Date me.”

  Edison squinted then stared at Bishop as if he’d heard wrong.

  “You heard me.”

  Edison chuckled, slowly shaking his head. Twelve hours ago, Bishop had leveled him and made him feel like destroying things in his kitchen, now he was standing there saying he wanted them to date. Edison wouldn’t be caught playing the sucker again. Fool me once, shame on you… Well, he wasn’t about to drop to his knees and thank the great Bishop for asking him out. And what if they did go out and Bishop hated it? Then he’d still be stuck seeing him every day in his backyard. Edison tried to extract himself from Bishop’s biceps, but he wasn’t letting him go.

  “Bishop. Maybe we should concentrate on the business at hand. I heard your apology and I do accept it. But you were right. We need to slow down and focus on one thing at a time. Now. Do you have the contract for me to look over?”

  Bishop stood to his full height and eased up on his grip. “Nope.”

  “No?” Edison frowned in confusion. “Is it not ready?”

  “I’m not doing a contract.” Bishop pulled some folded papers from his back pocket and placed them on the breakfast bar. “This is the price list for the materials. We get our stuff wholesale and much cheaper than at Home Depot or a big nursery. You buy the merch and I’ll do your yard… for free.”

  “What!” Edison barked. “No way. What is this, Bishop?”

  Bishop gazed at him with so much hunger that Edison began to fidget with the hem of his shirt to hide his bulge. Then he was pulled into Bishop’s arms again.

  “My dad was right. I can’t do both. I can’t mix business with pleasure. And you are all pleasure to me, you’ll never be business. Not after last night, after today… not after tomorrow. I can’t charge you for a job, take your money and then climb into your bed at night.”

  Edison inhaled sharply. He liked the sound of that. But… for free? Was this the gesture that Bishop said would make it up to him? Well, it was too much. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too much,” Edison breathed, wrapping his arms around Bishop’s neck and staring up at him in disbelief.

  “It’s not enough. Not for what I want from you. And I’m not trying to sound like I’m buying it. I told you… I want to earn it. And the only way I know how to do that is to show you.” Bishop dipped his head, and Edison thought he was going for his mouth, but he detoured and kissed his cheek, stalling there for long moment before he continued to speak, “Look. There’s still some shit I’m working on with myself that had me reacting the way I did last night. I’ve never cared about being good enough for anyone… but… I want to be… for you.”

  “Bishop,” Edison whispered. He didn’t know what to think, what to say. It all felt so unreal. He had a gorgeous man in his arms who was laying himself open, and he’d be damned if he poured salt in the wound. Edison believed Bishop. No one would do that kind of work or dedicate so much time for someone else unless they really liked them. “I know I don’t know a lot about you, Bishop, but I know you don’t need to change for me. What you told me about your past hasn’t deterred me from wanting to know the man in front of me now.”

  “Date me,” Bishop almost demanded.

  “Okay.” Edison hid his smile by biting his bottom lip.

  “Kiss me,” Bishop said, but didn’t wait for an answer before he closed his mouth over his and slowly sank his tongue inside. He tasted rich, with a hint of cinnamon.

  It was just as deep and soul-searching as last night’s kiss, but not as frantic. Bishop groaned and spread his big hands over Edison’s back and tucked him close to his body. He pulled back just long
enough to tell Edison how sweet he tasted before he kissed him some more. If he could’ve stayed in that moment for the rest of his life, he thought that’d be just fine. He felt desirable in Bishop’s big arms.

  “B. You didn’t tell me it was fuckin’ Jurassic Park back here,” Trent said, standing just inside the patio doors with one hand on his hip while the other slapped a pair of gloves against his thigh. “I been pushing that damn gate open for ten minutes.”

  Bishop didn’t acknowledge Trent even when Edison quickly broke the kiss. Instead, he kept his face close, not allowing Edison to get away, regardless of the fact they now had a spectator. He wasn’t sure Bishop would be okay doing this in front of his best friend, but obviously he was.

  “Sorry. The kid who cuts the front yard won’t do the back,” Edison tried to explain.

  “And for good reason,” Trent pointed out. “That’s an environmental hazard out there. I should report you.”

  Edison blinked.

  “He’s got it, Trent,” Bishop snarled. “I’m coming out to help in a second.”

  “Oh good, because I was wondering. You said you needed ten minutes of make up time. It’s been like twenty,” Trent said as he began to calm down and take in Edison’s home. “Shit. It’s nice up in here.”

  “Thank you,” Edison said. He was still trying to conceal his smile after hearing Bishop had talked to his friend about making up with him… and for how long.

  “Trent,” Bishop said a bit louder. “I heard you. I’ll be right out.”

  “Cool.” Trent turned to leave when he noticed the breakfast bar. “Whoa. Is this like a continental breakfast or something?”

  “This ain’t a Marriott, T,” Bishop growled with little heat.

  Edison laughed because the two of them were hilarious. It must’ve been nice to have a friend as close as Trent was. If Bishop was there on a Saturday to work for free, then that meant so was Trent. The least Edison could do was give him a muffin. “I made those this morning. Help yourself, Trent. Please.”

  “Thank you, Edison. Nice to see someone has a little decency around here,” Trent grumbled with his back to them while he poured a mug of coffee.

  Bishop gripped Edison’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger and turned his head back to face him. “Don’t worry about him. He’s owes me more favors than he wants to think about… and vice versa.”

  Edison saw Bishop’s lips moving, but he didn’t really hear the words coming out of his mouth.

  “I’m gonna get started. If you have something to do today, you don’t have to stay here. Just lock up like usual and we’ll continue to work back here.”

  “I have nothing to do,” Edison said a bit too fast. “I mean. I was just gonna catch up on work. Sometimes I go to the farmer’s market or a flea market in the mornings, but I think I’ll stick around.”

  “Good,” Bishop mumbled and kissed his jaw one last time. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay.” Edison watched Bishop take a couple of muffins and a glass of juice off the bar before he winked at him and left through the patio door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Bishop

  Bishop was glad Trent had agreed to help him with Edison’s yard, even after he’d told him about doing it for zero labor cost. He’d thought his friend’s head was gonna pop off. Which would’ve been better than his dad’s reaction when he found out. It was a big job, one that could pad their meager bank accounts with a thousand each, but the second he explained—the best he could, how Edison had looked at him, had treated him—Trent had agreed with no further argument.

  “Dude, you were in there begging like, Elvis.” Trent broke the silence as they cleared away dead bushes and unkempt shrubs along the side fence where the grill would be. With the shovel in his hand, that jackass sang his best Don’t Be Cruel impression, complete with the hip swagger and curled lip.

  “Shut up,” Bishop grumbled, tossing some debris at Trent.

  Trent laughed loudly, “I’m just saying. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Me either.” Bishop kept his head down and his hands in the earth.

  “So, what is it about him, man?

  “He’s different.”

  “You said that a zillion times already.” Trent got back to work. “Besides that he looks hella different than your last boyfriend, and has a much better job. How else is he so different, B?”

  Bishop thought about it for a moment. There were too many to name and too many personal ones that he wouldn’t share with Trent. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  Bishop rolled his eyes, his neck getting stiff as his shoulders rose up to his ears. “I told him the most important thing… and he didn’t even blink.”

  “Are you gonna tell him about—?”

  “Soon. I just gotta get some things in line with that Adult Learning Center and I will.” A hard knot formed in the pit of Bishop’s stomach any time he tried to think of a way to tell his super-smart executive that he’d just agreed to date an illiterate. He couldn’t do it. Not until he had a concrete plan that he could lay out for Edison to prove that he wasn’t comfortable where he was in life, and he was going to work nonstop to change it. Once Edison saw how hard he was working, and how dedicated he was, then maybe it wouldn’t make a difference. Bishop shook his head. He could fool a lot of people. But not himself.

  They’d gotten a lot accomplished in one day—he and Trent working together like a well-oiled machine—and he could finally see his boots when he walked through the backyard. Edison had come to the door every now and then to offer them cool drinks, but he mostly stayed at the dining table on his laptop. He wondered if that was what Edison did every weekend when he returned from his morning flea markets. He looked so alone, and there’d been more than one time that Bishop wanted to stop what he’d been working on to go inside and sit and talk with him. However, he’d stayed on task, wanting to show off at the same time. They didn’t stop until six and as they packed the equipment onto the trailer, Edison stood at the patio doors gaping at the stripped yard.

  “It looks a mess now… but just keep thinking of the sketch.” Bishop smiled, walking past with more bags of grass to place on the curb for garbage pickup.

  Edison blinked. “No. It’s not that. I’m just shocked how fast y’all are.”

  “Thank you,” Bishop said.

  “All right, man. I’m outta here, Edison. Bishop can take it from here,” Trent said with a small salute as he left out of the side gate.

  “Thanks so much, Trent,” Edison said politely.

  Bishop stood there, dirty, and sweaty, wishing he could lean in and bury his face in Edison’s clean neck but he had better manners than that.

  “I was gonna put some steaks on the grill and watch a movie or something,” Edison said in one long breath, as if he’d been building up the nerve to ask that all day.

  “Ugh.” Bishop hooked one finger in Edison’s track pants and gave him a gentle tug towards him. “I really want to do that, and it sounds really good… but, I’m a mess.”

  “I see,” Edison said breathlessly.

  “Raincheck, okay?” Bishop was close but not enough to touch, and his body burned as he continued to catch whiffs of Edison’s scent. God, he wanted to stay, and a steak sounded like it’d hit the spot. He’d been going all day with only a twenty-minute break to scarf down his crappy lunch he’d packed. “Next time I’ll bring something I can change into, so I don’t mess up your couch.”

  Edison ran his hand through the long, whisky-brown strands on top of his head and they still laid in perfect place. Bishop wanted to do it too. He made to take a step forward but stopped himself. “I’ll call you later, all right.”

  “Sure.” Edison retreated slowly, then closed the patio doors and dragged his vertical blinds over until his tall windows were covered.

  Bishop sighed as he let himself out through the side gate.

  ~

&nbs
p; Edison

  He was lying in bed reading when his phone rang, jerking him out of an amazing scene. He hated that. He frowned, until he saw it was Bishop. He remembered he’d said that he’d call, but he was kind of expecting a simple goodnight text or whatever. Not an actual call. No one did that anymore. Edison smiled as he swiped the receiver to the right, “Hello, Bishop.”

  “Handsome.”

  Edison inhaled and licked his suddenly dry lips. How did Bishop make that simple word sound so believable? He abandoned his book and reclined on his back, ready to sink into that sinful voice. “How are you?” was all he could think to say.

  “I’m good, sore as shit. But it feels good.” Bishop groaned. “I like hard work.”

  Oh my god. Edison was already throbbing below at the rumbling growl of Bishop’s voice, and it wouldn’t be long before his shorts were too tight. “Your work certainly doesn’t look easy.” But you look so good doing it. Edison hoped he’d been discreet today while he’d watched Bishop work through the huge windows. He couldn’t stop staring at the way his muscles bulged when he tugged at the base of the shrubs as he pulled their deep roots from the earth. Or the way his thigh muscles rippled when he used his boot to press the shovel into the ground. And Edison’s personal favorite, the way Bishop would take the hem of his shirt and use it to wipe the sweat dripping down his face, giving Edison a mouthwatering view of those sculpted abs.

  “So how was your dinner?” Bishop asked casually.

  Wow. They really were going to have an old-school, get-to-know-each-other-over-the-phone conversation. No chatting, texting, in-boxing, or pm’ing, just their voices in each other’s ear. He loved the idea of it, but it wasn’t the norm. “I ended up eating a microwave meal. I’ll save the steaks for later.”

  “I like microwave meals.”

  “Well, I don’t. But there are a couple that will work for me in a pinch if I wanna take an evening off from the kitchen.”

  “Thank you for the muffins this morning. They were good. Much better than the bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch I had at Trent’s place.” He could practically hear Bishop’s smooth, almost-smile. “And I like it when you’re in the kitchen.”