Page 76 of High Water

“They will as soon as we make good on our end by giving them the paperwork that proves we’ve tied the knot. Ready to make all this official?” He slips his aviators on, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t like being under the intensity of his gaze or seeing the way his eyes look when the light hits them just right. It reminds me of last night, and I absolutely cannot think about last night anymore.

“Let’s do it.” I start walking for the elevators as fast as I can.

“You can send that bag upstairs before we leave, unless you need it.” He nods to my bag as we wait for the interminably long arrival of the elevator. I was going to discuss this with my brother.

“Send it upstairs for what?”

“They didn’t tell you yet?”

“Who didn’t tell me what?” I lost too much sleep last night to connect dots on my own.

“Ramsey had his penthouse turned over for us. It’s got three bedrooms and two bathrooms, so he thought it’d be a good spot for us until I’ve got the homestead ready. He had yours and Fallon’s stuff sent over, and I’ll bring mine down from the Springs today in the truck.”

My baby brother is kicking me out of his ranch house without so much as a word. Not that I can blame him. He probably wants his privacy back with his own wife-to-be. I’m positive from the muffled laughter and late-night music I’ve heard that we’re cramping their style. We’ve long overstayed our welcome, and he and Hazel probably figure we’ll want our own space together.

But I didn’t plan for this. I’m not ready. I thought I had time before I had to be on top of Bishop, day and night. Not literally. Shit. Now I’m imagining being on top of him literally. All while his brow quirks up over the rim of his aviators.

“Okay,” I answer flatly, and blessedly, the elevator dings so we can get on.

We’re halfway to Colorado Springs with the low volume of the radio trying to cover the blaring silence between us. Not that I’ve noticed it much. I’ve been too busy staring out the window, thinking about the million things I’m going to have to do when we get back to the penthouse tonight to make it tolerable for the two of us to live together.

Not to mention getting Fallon set up and comfortable in her new space. She texted and asked if she could stay another day at her friend’s house, and I agreed. Although I’m starting to wonder if she’s avoiding this new life too.

The music suddenly goes silent, and I look over to where Bishop’s turned it off.

“Did I do something wrong? Say something wrong last night? Because if I did, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to come to my room.”

And the movie starts to replay in my head again. His heavy-lidded look. His disheveled state.

Shit.

A blush threatens to hit my cheeks when I see myself hitting my knees in front of him on replay. Like some wanton, desperate, ridiculous woman who can’t get over the crush she had a million years ago. The night before the wedding was bad enough, but at least I hadn’t technically broken my rules. Last night, there was no excuse. He left when I asked, and I still pursued him. I only have myself to blame for that. I can’t expect him to follow my rules if I can’t.

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong.” I keep my response short, trying to think of the best way to explain last night.

“Are you sure? You seem… not yourself today.”

“I’m myself today. I wasn’t myself last night.”

He doesn’t say a word in response, so I continue.

“I shouldn’t have gone to your room. It was a long day. I didn’t have much to eat, and then I had several glasses of whiskey. I broke my own rules. It was my fault. I apologize for putting you in that position.” Oh my god. Position? Honestly, Aspen. You’re a mess. I cringe as I ramble on, “I won’t let that happen again.”

There’s a long beat of silence between us before he speaks again, and when he does, it’s not what I was expecting. Not that I know exactly what I was supposed to be expecting.

“Okay,” he agrees and presses the button to turn the music back on.

It feels deceptively easy. He doesn’t apologize back. He doesn’t tell me how he feels about it. Whether he liked or hated it. Just “okay,” and the anxiety I’ve been feeling about all of this returns.

THIRTY-TWO

Bishop

“I can sleep in the office tonight. There’s a couch that pulls out into a bed. Is that good with you?” I offer to stay out of her way once we’re back in the penthouse in Purgatory Falls for the night. It’s been a long one for both of us, and I don’t want to do anything to break the comfortable rhythm we’ve been in this afternoon.

“Oh. Um.” There’s a lengthy pause, and I can see all the cogs running full steam behind her eyes as she tries to come up with an answer.

“I’ll just sleep in there. I can take my shower in the hall bath without bothering you.”