Page 72 of Last Mile

“Thanks,” he murmured before ducking inside the house.

I took a tentative step inside, since he hadn’t actually asked me to come in. I bit back a smile because the décor was exactly as I had imagined. Posters of half- naked women on the walls, leather furniture strewn with clothes, and beer cans littering the tables.

When I caught his eye, he said, “I do have one fault.”

“Your taste in decorating?”

He snickered. “That and I’m a fucking slob.”

I laughed. “Perfection can be annoying. Stay a slob.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a mock salute.

After grabbing two large flashlights off the mantel and then a blanket off the back of the couch, he paused, his expression growing serious. “I’m surprised you’re not pissed off and giving me shit about why I didn’t bring you here.” At what must’ve been my confused expression, he added, “You know, to fuck.”

“Oh,” I murmured. The truth was the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. When he’d said all the rooms at the clubhouse were full, I had believed him. Besides, considering that I was using him, I really didn’t have any room to be judgmental.

With a sheepish look, he said, “Most women would be pretty pissed that I didn’t have the decency to bring them here.”

Although it stung to think of him with other women, I gave an apathetic shrug. “Most women might, but I’m not most women.

We’re not in a relationship, so you don’t owe me jack shit, except maybe a good time.” I crossed the room to stand beside him. “And trust me, I had a really good time out there.”

“Me, too,” he murmured. “It’s just that I haven’t ever brought a woman here.”

“To have sex with?”

He shook his head. “To do anything with. My house has always been off- limits to women. Now, my room at the clubhouse— I’ve made good use of it.”

Pursing my lips, I said tersely, “I see.”

Bishop grimaced. “Sorry. That was a douche move to mention my past.”

“It’s okay.” Knowing that we needed a subject change, I motioned to the flashlights. “You know, I can’t help being a little concerned that you’re taking me somewhere that needs flashlights.”

Sweeping a hand to my hip, I countered teasingly, “I will be coming back, won’t I?”

“Maybe . . . maybe not,” Bishop replied, with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I would’ve been lying to myself if I hadn’t admitted there was a small part of me that was slightly anxious. Everything that had transpired tonight could have been a setup working toward an ending where Bishop took me out to the middle of nowhere to unmask me and then kill me. I had to stay on alert and not let my amorous feelings for him screw me over.

When Bishop laughed, I realized I hadn’t hid my fears well enough. “I’m only joking, Sam. Since I’d kick anyone’s ass who tried to hurt you, I’m sure as hell not going to do anything to you myself.”

He threw an arm around my shoulder and started leading me to the front door.

I momentarily faltered when we started into the woods. Bishop turned around to smile at me. “Still thinking I’m going to Jack the Ripper you or something?”

“You are dragging me into the woods. At night.”

“We can’t go swimming if we don’t.” At what must’ve been my skeptical expression, he said, “There’s a stream about a mile through here. My brothers and I go swimming there all the time. It has the coolest and clearest water you’ll ever see.”

“At this point, couldn’t I just turn the hose on you to cool you off?”

Bishop threw his head back and laughed. After he’d had a hearty chuckle, he leaned in to brush his lips against my cheek. “I promise if you come with me, I’ll make you come a few more times.”

“You sure as hell better,” I replied defiantly, which earned me an impish grin from Bishop.

The bouncing beams of the two large flashlights lit the way as we started into the woods. We hadn’t been walking long when we came to an ATV parked to the side of the pathway. Bishop motioned to it. “Your chariot.”