Callie whined as I quietly crept down the stairs. I tried telling her to stay in the loft or be quiet. On the faint chance there really was a crazy person in my barn, I didn’t really want her getting hurt if shit went tits up. But my new bestie must have had a death wish because she was being noisy as hell.
I peeked around the wall, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the light spilling from Bishop’s office out into the alley.
Perfect, Lennox. Now you can go back upstairs and finish your movie in peace. There’s absolutely no need to go and check on the annoying and infuriatingly hot cowboy.
I took a step forward.
You’re just going to piss him off if you go in there and run your mouth.
I took three more steps. I liked the idea of antagonizing him a bit. I liked his anger, his fury, his attention.
No, really. It’s best to turn around and take your ass back to the loft. If Bishop is up this late, it probably means he’s in a crap mood.
And now I was standing just outside his door, peeking through the opening. Bishop was wearing what he had been earlier in the day. His hair was slightly ruffled, likely from him scratching at his scalp after taking his hat off. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing off the smattering of dark curls along his chest.
He leaned back in his chair, head tilted back. His eyes were closed. There was a single unopened beer resting on his desk. Condensation dripped down the glass bottle, pooling at the base.
That wasn’t a good sign. Bishop and beer were a love story for the ages. I was half-convinced he’d come out of the womb with a Banquet in his hand.
He tossed something on his desk before running his hands over his face, whispering to himself. It was a worn-down pack of cigarettes. The carton that used to be white was stained yellow, with dirt smudges and weathered edges.
Weird.Bishop used to smoke like a freight train, but I hadn’t seen him with one in years. I remembered telling him how gross it was when we’d left the bar on my 18th birthday. The stench filled the cabin of my truck, and it’d taken forever to get out. From the looks of it, the pack he threw down had seen better days.
He stared down at them. The harsh lighting from above made the dark circles beneath his eyes more prominent. He kind of looked like that corpse from Hocus Pocus, but only if he was a cowboy who clearly hadn’t been getting enough sleep.
I hated that I wanted to know what was keeping him up, that I even cared in the first place.
I hated that I wanted to make it better. Even if I didn’t know how to even begin to do that. I wasn’t usually the type of person people turned to in hard times. In fact, they often dismissed me as being unable to help. I was the baby of the family, so naturally I wasn’t capable of handling big feelings.
To be fair, I didn’t ever blame them. I wouldn’t have sought me out, either. Big emotions made me feel awkward. One time, when one of Josie’s boyfriends broke her heart, she cried on my shoulder, and I just kind of awkwardly patted her back until her tears dried up. None of that had changed over the years.
Until now.
I leaned in on instinct, wanting to drift closer, but that’d been a mistake. My foot caught on the door, and I tripped. My hand landed on the wall with a soft thud. I closed my eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but the sudden brightness told me otherwise.
I cracked one eye open, peeking at the massive man standingin front of me. Bishop had one hand braced on the door, scowling at me like I was an intruder. I guess I kind of was. We'd never have crossed paths if I’d minded my business and stayed in the loft.
“What’re you doing out here?” he asked, looking around me down the abandoned alley. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I heard rest is important for the elderly.”
“I’m not really in the mood for the jokes, Lennox,” he sighed, looking up into the loft. The soft glow of the fairy lights and my television lit up the space. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were in here. I must’ve been distracted.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.Don’t ruin a perfect moment, Lennox. No jokes. No snark. You can do this. “It’s fine. I was just watching a scary movie and then heard you moving around, so I thought I was about to be murdered.”
The corner of Bishop’s lip lifted a fraction. “No homicidal maniac here.”
“Just the regular kind?”
“Pretty much. Wouldn’t say I’m functioning on all cylinders,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. The music played softly in the background as he ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I’ll get outta here. Should probably get some sleep anyway.”
“Or you could join me.” The words left my big, fat mouth so quickly, as if it were easy. “Sorry,” I said with a breathy laugh, trying and failing to shrug it off. “You literally just said you needed to get some sleep. I just thought…” I trailed off, twisting my hands in front of me.
Bishop reached out and ran his finger along my jawline. He tipped my chin up gently so that I met his eyes. “You thought what?”
“I just thought you might want some company,” I said,swallowing my pride and whatever stubborn bullshit I was holding on to.
“You and me alone in an abandoned barn?” he asked, quirking a brow. “That seems like a recipe for disaster, killer.”
