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“What are we doing there?” He puts his arm across the back of the seat as he backs out of the space.
“We have a new case.” I pull up the file Quinn sent me on my phone. “A guy named Travis is supposedly cheating on his girlfriend. He disappears frequently, takes mysterious phone calls, and has been working late.”
“Does Bash know you are on a new case?”
“No, I forgot to tell him,” I lie.
“Right,” he says sarcastically.
I ignore his knowing look. “He’ll be fine.” I try to convince myself. Bash just wants me protected. I see I have another text from an unknown number and try to act casually when I pull it up.
I hear you like it rough. I’ll give you rough, sweets.
Super creepy. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Bash would not be happy with whoever this is and with the fact that I keep avoiding telling him about it.
“What’s wrong?” Bishop asks.
“Nothing, studying the case.” I brush off his concern. I get the feeling Bishop is just as possessive as Bash, if not more so. This guy's first message was vague and poetic. This one is personal and gross. I flip back to file, promising myself that I will tell Bash when I see him tonight.
“How long has this guy been cheating?” Bishop asks.
“Not long,” I say. I scroll further. “About a month.” Some of the things the girlfriend said make sense for a cheater, but others don’t add up. “The girlfriend told Quinn that their sex life is excellent. If the guy is cheating, that usually slows down or stops entirely.”
“You do this a lot,” he states.
Don’t get me wrong, nobody has ever affected me as Bash does, but Bishop’s voice gives me the shivers. It’s deep and growly. “Sure.” I shrug, hoping my reaction to him isn’t noticeable.
“Is it always men?”
“No, but most of them are. Men get bored easily,” I say.
“You’ve been around the wrong kind of men,” he says.
“Probably. I’m cynical,” I admit. I do tend to group all men together in this business.
“Should we make a bet whether Travis is cheating or not?”
“Usually, I have no doubts about the people we investigate, but I feel Travis isn’t a cheater. Something isn’t as it seems.”
“Trust your gut, lass,” he says. “Not everything is what it seems.”
He’s talking about more than this case. “Very true,” I mutter. We fall silent, and I turn to watch the buildings pass. Maybe I have been too judgmental. I’m suspicious of everyone I meet, thinking the worst of them. The only exception is Bash and, in turn, Bishop. Once Bash gave my safekeeping over to Bishop, I knew that he was trustworthy.
I’ve lived in a small bubble for so long; I latched onto Bash with both arms and heart. The mating bond is forcing me to push away my usual cynicism so I can get to know the real Bash without my usual shit fucking it up.
***
“He is not cheating,” Bishop says with a mouthful of his sandwich.
“I don’t think so either,” I reply, crunching on nachos.
Bishop is a fantastic stakeout buddy. We stopped at work, checked in with Quinn, and followed Travis to his work. Quinn seemed to like Bishop; at least he didn’t growl at him.
We loaded up on snacks before getting on the road. Bishop bought more than I did and is halfway through his second sandwich. He’s a good listener and is eager to catch Travis one way or another. He hasn’t bitched once about my chips or commented on the crumbs falling all over his truck.
“I’m serious; this dude is in love with his girlfriend,” he says, pointing at Travis standing in front of the food truck.
“How are you so sure?” I ask, curious.
