At that moment, I knew one thing. Bishop was always meant to be in my life, and me in his, whether either of us wanted it or not.
6
Bishop
I dropped Korrie off half an hour ago, and the entire time, all I’d been thinking about was how I should have kissed her good night.
I tossed my keys on the table, toed off my boots, and then just stood there. Despite the deep conversation we shared, I’d been uncomfortably aroused. My cock was still hard, not even going down an inch after I dropped her off and drove home. I liked the fact she wasn’t too far from where I lived, even if she was in the opposite direction.
I liked that I could see her easily, whenever I wanted. She made me feel whole, and for the first time ever, I felt like everything in life happened because it had all been leading up to meeting Korrie.
I exhaled and headed toward the hallway, needing a shower—a cold one, preferably. I didn’t bother turning on any lights until I was in the bathroom. I reached out and switched it on, the harsh fluorescent bulb kicking on, causing me to squint until my vision adjusted.
Bracing my hands on the counter, I hung my head and closed my eyes. My mother would have loved Korrie. Loved her so much that she would have told me to always treat her right and keep her happy, because women like Korrie only came once in a lifetime.
And of course she’d have been right. So right.
She lost her mother. So had I. But it wasn’t that similarity that connected us. I felt that before I knew anything about her. No, there was something deep down, primal, elemental that tied us together.
Soul mates.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Korrie, couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I’d told her about my mother passing away. I hadn’t told anyone that in years, something I kept to myself no matter who was around or what was going on. It just usually dredged up old wounds that I was trying to let heal—ones that probably would never fully close—but nonetheless, I kept a tight lid on that part of my life.
Until her.
What would she think if she knew I hadn’t been with a woman in all too fucking long? How would she feel if she knew I just hadn’t cared about forming any kind of relationship?
Would she think that was weird? Would she think something was off about me, that maybe I was… damaged? I wouldn’t blame her. I was sure most people would think someone who hadn’t been in any kind of relationship, hadn’t even wanted to be with a female in a good fifteen years, meant they were cold and detached.
I exhaled again and opened my eyes, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I felt weary, but it wasn’t the physical kind; it was mental. Although I wanted Korrie so fucking badly, a part of me held back—yet realistically I was failing in that regard. I knew a part of me needed to take things slow with her. And I sure as fuck didn’t want to go that route. I wanted to claim her fast and hard. Every male, alpha instinct in me said Korrie was meant to be mine and mine alone.
We both had baggage, and she had responsibilities, priorities, so starting anything romantic probably wasn’t even on her radar.
She’s the only thing on my radar.
And wanting her wasn’t just about sex—that was up there, though… really fucking high up there. I also wanted to be her companion. I wanted to be her partner. I wanted to be her equal.
I want to be her forever.
I pushed away from the sink and stripped off my clothes, turned on the shower, and kept that shit ice-cold. I wanted to jerk one off, to ease the pressure in my cock and balls, but that almost seemed… wrong.
So here I was, letting the water slap at my body like little cold daggers, the temperature doing nothing to ease my arousal, and thinking about how I’d already fallen for Korrie.
I’ve already fallen in love with her, and now I have to make her mine.
7
Korrie
One week later
After another week working at Lyrics, I’d gone from part-time to damn near working every night. And that was perfect for me, exactly what I wanted and needed.
With asking Bishop for a couple more shifts, Pyper and Regan needing me to cover a few of their nights in the next few weeks, and the incredible tips I made, things were looking up where finances were concerned. I’d have a little bit saved for my father’s meds, and as long as my hours kept up like this and my tips were this steady, I was even looking into possibly hiring someone to be with him a night or two during the week while I worked so he wasn’t alone.
I closed out the last customer, and Regan led them out—all the while the trio singing slurred versions of ’80s hits—before she locked up. I sat at the bar and started going through my paperwork while Regan and Pyper cleaned up their areas. There was light jazz playing overhead, and I let a smile filter across my face as I remembered the singer who’d come in tonight.
I learned that Adele had known Bishop for a while and performed at Lyrics many times. She’d been here with Oliver, who was either her boyfriend or husband, and I only knew that because the man couldn’t take his eyes off her—or his hands, for that matter.
I started going over receipts, making sure everything added up, not realizing I was humming a song Adele had sung before closing until I felt gazes on me and heard myself.
I lifted my head and noticed that everyone was staring at me. Pyper, Regan, and Bishop all had their eyes locked right on mine. Pyper had a stunned expression on her face, Regan wore a wholly satisfied smile, and Bishop’s expression… I couldn’t quite gauge.
This heat surrounded me all of a sudden, wondering how loud I’d actually been humming, or maybe I hadn’t been humming at all? Maybe I’d been full-out singing and hadn’t even realized.
Oh God.
It’s not like it didn’t happen on occasion when I was focused on something. My father always called me out on singing out loud without knowing it in the most loving way, telling me to continue because it was the nicest background noise he’d ever heard. But singing in front of my dad was one thing. Doing it in front of my coworkers and boss… a whole other ballpark.
“Sorry,” I muttered and turned away quickly, letting the heavy curtain of my curls obscure part of my face.
“Bishop,” Pyper interjected. “You need to let Korrie sing at the club some nights.”
“Yeah,” Regan was the one to say now. “Her voice is just as good as Adele’s. She has that sultry note, a husky tone. Korrie would be perfect for the club.”
I looked up then, feeling my eyes widen that my voice had been compared to Adele’s. She sang so beautifully, had real soul in the way she weaved words together. It was as if she felt every single word.
I started shaking my head. “N-no. I was just humming along.”
Regan started to chuckle. “You weren’t just humming, Korrie. You were all-out singing, and it was incredible.”
I felt my pulse jackknife in my chest. Bishop still had yet to say anything, but I felt his stare on me.
“Okay, well enough with putting Korrie on the spot. I’m going to head out before the temperature drops even more.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Regan murmured as she started shoving old receipts into a folder. “They said it’s gonna be even colder tonight. I can’t wait until this cold front passes and spring can push its way through.”