The woman turned and her gaze raked over me. I expected a snide comment, but perhaps her fear of what Bishop would say in response kept her quiet.

“I’ll just go down to Magazine. Those guys will trade.”

“Good luck with that.”

She stalked away, and Bishop watched me come toward the counter still riding my wave of confidence.

“What if I really did want a tattoo?”

“You serious?”

“Maybe.”

“I need more than a maybe before I’m going to ink that skin.”

“Do you have time to do it tonight?”

He tilted his head to the side. “What brought this on?”

“Does it matter?”

“Everything does when it comes to you.”

His words, so simple and sincere, hit me somewhere in the vicinity of my chest.

“Then don’t let me forget any of this.”

With his expression darkening, he called to Delilah. “I’m knocking off for tonight. You got a problem with that?”

She looked up from the room where she worked. “It’s been slower than shit all day. Make a run for it. I’ll lock up.”

Bishop stepped out from behind the counter. “Let’s go. We’ve got some shit to talk about.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him to the back door. Outside in the alley, he unlocked a small garage door built into the back of the building, and a motorcycle came into view as he pushed the door up.

After he threw a leg over, he backed it out and dropped the kickstand before heading back into the garage and emerging with two helmets.

Once the garage door was closed and locked again, he held out a helmet to me. “We’re going back to your place.”

I stared at the helmet for long moments before taking it from his hands. “We’re riding this?”

“That gonna bother you?”

Riding a motorcycle hadn’t been on my list, but I wasn’t opposed to trying it out. “No, not at all.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

The ride to my apartment was short, but the feeling of Bishop in front of me and the vibrations of the bike between my legs wasn’t something I’d forget anytime soon. When he parked on the street and I stepped off, I wanted to climb him, and he read it on my face.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

“I had no idea . . .”

“That you’d feel like you had the world’s best vibrator between your legs?”

I bit my lip to hide the grin stretching my cheeks. “Basically.”

“Get your keys. I see I’ve got something to prove now.”

“Oh really? What’s that?”

“That I’m a better ride than my bike.”

A laugh burst free of my lips and the easiness from earlier today came back. “I don’t think you’re going to have a hard time proving that.”

I unlocked the gate leading into the courtyard, and Bishop followed me inside.

Harriet’s back door opened just before we reached the spiral staircase leading up to my place. “Eden, dear. Were you expecting company this afternoon?”

I stopped so abruptly at her question, Bishop’s hand landed on my hip to steady me. “Company?”

“Someone rang your buzzer at least a dozen times. I finally got sick of hearing it so I looked out front, but they were leaving.”

“They?”

“Two men in suits. They looked official. You haven’t gotten into any trouble, have you?”

“No,” I answered in a rush. “No trouble. That’s just . . . strange.”

Suits? It had to be Dom’s people. Or the men from the hotel? FBI?

“Yes, very strange.” Harriet’s gaze was appraising. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had a second Charlie on my hands. On the run from the law.” She laughed. “But of course that’s just me being a little bit of a conspiracy theorist in my old age.”

I smiled, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “I’m definitely not on the run from the law.” I don’t think, I added silently.

“Damn. I was hoping for some excitement to spice up the week. Unless they got the wrong buzzer and it was the IRS coming after me. Bastards.”

Bishop and I traded glances at that before I thanked Harriet for the information. He followed me up to my apartment, and once he closed the door behind him, he asked the question I knew had to be coming.

“You gonna tell me what the hell you’re running from? Or are you gonna make me keep guessing?”

I locked the door and turned around slowly to meet his gaze. “I’m not running from anyone.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“I don’t know.”

I moved toward him, wanting nothing more than to change the subject and forget about everything outside of this apartment for the rest of the night. The world could go to hell, but I wanted to savor whatever time I had left with Bishop. I pressed both hands to his abs.

He studied me under his hooded gaze. “You trying to distract me?”

“I’m trying to get you back on track with your earlier plan.”

“Is that right?”

I nodded before pushing his shirt up. “Yes.”

“I guess I’ll just have to let you do that then.”

And he did.

IF BISHOP WAS AN ADDICTION, then I never wanted a cure.

For the next couple of weeks, we bounced from his apartment to mine, losing ourselves in each other. When we weren’t in bed, he showed me more than the city. He showed me a life I desperately wanted to claim as my own.

With each day, I fell harder. I was in so much damn trouble, because I didn’t know how I was going to walk away from him when the order came. Every day I waited for the text, but it didn’t come. No more cryptic and accidental voice mails either, which I tried not to let stab me in the heart. Dom didn’t know where I was, and apparently he’d decided he didn’t care.

I pushed down that familiar disappointment and focused on all the good around me.

Bishop had become an integral part of my happiness, and the simple life I was living here was more than enough for me. I’d even started helping out with the books at both Voodoo and Your Favorite Hole, putting my skills to work.