My Boss’s Secret by Taryn Quinn

Twenty-Two

By later that evening,a certain fact had become readily apparent.

Even hot, delicious funnel cake and three rides in a row on the nausea-inspiring Thrillride couldn’t kill the buzz of nerves circling that we were officially on meet the family day.

Except in this case, the family was our best friends who were basically family and his sister.

His sister who he adored and talked of glowingly and who supposedly had a radar for phonies. Michaela had never liked Rina, and he’d been a fool for ever denying her wisdom.

So, of course I’d wondered if she would like me. Awkward, fumbling me who’d run off and left her wonderful brother alone on a tropical island without even an explanation.

Yeah, that should go well. Yuppers.

Bishop and I spent a relaxed afternoon strolling by Crescent Lake in nearby Crescent Cove, kicking through the scant leaves starting to accumulate, feeding the ducks, and people watching. It was a sunny, early fall day, balmy and warm, and just wandering through the little shops and taking pictures of the sailboats skimming over the flawless blue glaze of the lake had seemed like perfection.

“You know, you could sell your wares here.” He’d stopped beside Every Line A Story, a craft store that specialized in knitting, crochet, and also had a section dedicated to painting and other creative pursuits. He tapped on the window full of pieces from local artisans. “That purse thing you’re making would be great here. You could do a whole line of them. Do themes.”

“Themes?”

“Sure. Like holidays. Or for special occasions. Maybe like specific ones for makeup or girly shit.”

I nodded, trying to keep my face straight. “Girly shit is a very popular theme.”

“Jerk.” He hauled me into his side. “You get what I mean. What are they for, anyway? Women don’t usually carry bags that small.”

“No, of course not. We all tote around suitcases.” I held up my own tiny crossbody flip bag.

“I’m going to ignore you.”

“They’re not actually purses. They’re tarot pouches. They started as gifts for Lu and Ry for Christmas, and then I started working on a pattern.”

“I like the moon and stars one.”

“Thanks. That’s Luna’s. A little too on the nose, but it fits with her apartment decor too.”

“What is Ryan’s? I heard she has a crystal fetish. Or I surmised. I didn’t actually hear.”

“See, it’s already started.”

“What?”

“Friendly gossip.” I drew up my chin and made a show of studying the items displayed in the window. “I won’t speculate about my besties.”

“She and Preston had some kind of freaky sex on a bench outside under the full moon. I’m working on him to find out if it’s something we should investigate. He’s being very close-lipped, so I have to figure it was memorable.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not witchily-inclined.”

“Me either, but that doesn’t mean we can’t simulate.” He bumped his hip into mine and made me giggle.

We started walking again, hand in hand. I was so euphoric, I wondered how my feet didn’t lift right off the ground.

“I have something else in mind,” I said as we strolled, dodging dog walkers and couples and young moms pushing smiling—or wailing—babies in strollers.

“Oh?”

“I’ve been thinking about becoming a paralegal. Would you as my new boss have a problem with that?” If there was a small catch in my voice, it couldn’t be alleviated. I was still so uneasy with the whole boss-secretary aspect of our relationship, but I was trying to follow the wisdom I’d gained in Georgia’s shop.

With a bit of help from my locket.

“No. Absolutely not. I think that’s a great idea.” He squeezed my fingers then drew me into a hug right there in the middle of the sidewalk. “Your new boss would even make sure the firm picked up the tab for your schooling.”

I forced out a breezy laugh. “But no pressure.”

“No.” His tone was serious. “After what I’ve been dealing with lately, I’ve become allergic to pressure, and just as allergic at the idea of pushing it on someone else. So, just think of it as some extra incentive, but if you decide you’d rather sit home and make tarot bags and flower arrangements, well, that’s just fine by me too. Although those bats in the jar were kinda creepy.”

I framed his face with my hands and kissed him hard. Sometimes he just took away all my words and replaced them with a warm glow.

“You want a jar of them for your desk then.” I laughed as he swatted my ass. “Got it.”

The whole day was easy, natural. We talked and kissed and held hands as if we’d known each other for a lifetime instead of a couple of weeks. And even less than that if you counted the actual days.

Which I was not. I was trying to enjoy each one as it came, not mark them off on some imaginary calendar to prove it wasn’t too soon to feel how I was feeling.

Obviously, I wasn’t alone in that, if he already was thinking about the state of my uterus. It was probably unusual in the annals of dating that he’d skipped right to procreation without considering love or marriage, but maybe not in this day and age. And we were kind of living together.

Fine, this whole thing was weird and fast and scary as hell. But I was so happy, and when my Grams called the next time, I was going to tell her exactly what was going on.

She would be thrilled for me. How could she not? And she’d already met him, which felt like its own stamp of approval.

Now if the sister liked me, maybe we’d be getting somewhere.

After that, we drove over to the fall carnival at Kensington Square’s high school. I could tell Bishop wasn’t at all certain about it, but he gamely walked around with me to the different stands and booths. We’d had lunch not all that long ago, not that it seemed to matter to either of our stomachs. We started eating at one end of the strip with corn dogs and ended with cotton candy, with and curly fries and everything else in between. Bishop was more into the rides, so that was how I ended up taking the Thrillride three times until finally my cotton candy threatened to come up all over his shoes.

Good thing I’d left the hat in his SUV because that would’ve gone flying when we were spinning through the air.

“Just once more,” he promised as I dropped onto a bench in the shade.

I waved him off. “Ryan and Preston will be here soon enough. I’ll just see how close the weight guessing guy gets until they arrive.” I didn’t have much choice. The overly sweaty guy in a long coat was yelling his guesses a few feet away.

“Awesome.” He dropped a kiss on my head and was in line a moment later. Judging by the length of it, he’d be waiting awhile.

Turned out Ryan and Preston didn’t appear, but the infamous Michaela Stone did. And she was very much man-less and ridiculously beautiful.

“He dumped me,” she announced after she introduced herself and launched herself at me, almost knocking me off the bench in her exuberance. Evidently, Bishop had shared a picture of me with her, so she knew who she was looking for. She was like a small, energetic puppy with her brother’s hair and wide smile.

Not that she was smiling now.

“Oh, no. What happened?”

“He’s a pig. All men are pigs.” She chewed her gum aggressively enough to make me worry for her former man’s safety if she saw him strolling about. “You know that song, ‘When He Cheats’?”

“Uh oh. Yeah.”

“I could totally do that. Carve the shit out of my name in the seats of his vintage Trans-Am and he couldn’t do a thing to me because I have the best lawyer in the known universe and he’d smoke his ass.”

If Bishop found out his baby sister had been cheated on, he’d probably do the carving himself, and I doubted he’d stop at leather.

“I’m sorry. That’s a really awful thing to do. Did you love him?”

“God, no. But the sex was decent.” She sighed heavily and examined her manicure. “Maybe the potential was there for love someday. He killed it dead. Like roadkill over the asphalt annihilated.”

I glanced over my shoulder just to make sure her brother wasn’t hiding behind a tree listening to this conversation. You could never be sure. “That’s really dead.”

“Yeah. Sure is. So, he hasn’t fucked things up yet?”

“No. Was he supposed to?”

“Well, he is male, and on top of that he was wounded by that she-bitch who wrecked my whole family and I hope burns in hell.” Michaela sighed. “You probably are wondering if I need a counselor, but I started my period today too.”

“Ahh. I get it.”

“Do you?” She shifted to study me thoroughly. “You look…delicate.”

“I’m not. I’m actually very—” What?

As the sun burned a hole in my scalp through an unforeseen gap in the branches above, I wished fervently for my hat.

Dammit, I really was delicate.

“I’m trying to be less so,” I finished.

“Why?”

That was a good question. “I feel tossed around by the winds of fate sometimes. If I was stronger, nothing could touch me.”

She snorted in an utterly Bishop-like way. “Sure thing, buttercup. Tell me another bedtime story.”

“I’m working on swearing more.”

“You don’t work on that. You just do it.” She put her fingers in her mouth and whistled at a shaggy, dark-haired man walking no less than three mixed breed dogs on a split leash. “Hey, nice ass.”

The man stopped. He did not turn around. Again, I wished for my hat, but this time so I could bury my face in it.

After a very long moment where I debated saying I had diarrhea so I could escape this trainwreck, the guy turned around and probably slayed half the women within hearing distance. “Talking to me, love?”

Michaela seemed momentarily taken aback by the Irish lilt in his voice. His killer bone structure and piercing eyes weren’t bad, either. “And if I was?”

“I’d say you should respect your elders.” He murmured to one of the dogs at his side and they all trotted off as if it was any other ass-catcalling day.

“Wow, burn.”

I made sympathetic noises in agreement.

“He wasn’t even that much older than me. What would you say?”

I’d really rather not get involved. “Maybe ten years on the outside?”

“Even so, hardly makes him an elder. Now I want to take it back. I’ve seen better asses. I’ve definitely heard better Irish accents.” She crossed her arms over her chest, straining the seams of her cropped jean jacket. “It’s probably fake.”

“Your brother has a very nice ass.”

At her aghast expression, I wondered how much I could blame on heatstroke versus being extremely conflict-averse. “I mean, objectively.”

“Do you have a brother?”

“I’m an only child.”

“Makes sense now. Do not ever talk about his body parts, or I’ll retch right here. The sibling contract involves not knowing any sexual activities. Better yet if we think a monastery is the next natural step, but not so much that we think we have to rent them a prostitute.”

“My God, Mickey, I better not be hearing you talk about renting me a prostitute. Also, you don’t rent prostitutes, you hire them.”

“I rest my case.” She leaned up to smack Bishop’s cheek. “But you’re late to the party. A minute ago, I was talking about guys with hot asses and fake accents.”

He shot a wistful glance in the direction of the rides. “Is five times too many?”

“Depends what we’re referring to, slugger. And hello, don’t you say hello to your sister anymore?”

“I’m trying to string together enough consonants. You’re burning,” he said to me, frowning. “Where’s your hat?”

“I left it in the truck.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s trying not to be so delicate.”

“Why?”

“Beats me. I’m going to get an ice cream.” She jogged off, disappearing into the growing crowd.

He sat down heavily beside me. “Did she say anything I have to apologize for? I only drew devil horns on her forehead one time when she was sleeping. In my defense, the day before she’d sprayed whipped cream under my nose while I was in bed so I woke up spraying it all over.”

I laughed and leaned against him, snuggling into his chest when he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Having a sister must be so awesome.”

“What part of a whipped cream mustache is awesome?”

“All of it. I never had anyone to draw things on or squabble with or share the dinner dishes with. It was just always quiet. So you could hear your own breathing kind of quiet.”

He stroked my back. “Sorry. I’m the king of insensitivity sometimes.”

“Nah, you didn’t know.” I lifted my head to kiss him. “You taste like cherry slurpee. I thought you didn’t like them.”

“Who, me? By the way, I missed you.” He threaded his fingers through my hair and tilted my mouth up to his once more.

“And the guy says we’re publicly lewd. Ha.”

Recognizing my boss’s voice behind us made my tongue retreat like a salamander into a sand hole. Bishop, however, simply lifted his middle finger and drew me back with the other hand.

Laughing and shaking my head, I pushed back from him and tried to stay natural as I locked gazes with Ryan and Preston. If I’d thought about it, I would have assumed facing Preston would have been most awkward. Instead, my bestie had her FBI face on, the one she pulled out when she was in hardcore surveillance mode and had no intention of taking any shit.

And her gaze was zeroed in on Bishop.

“Hi there, we haven’t met. Ryan Moon. And you are?” She stuck out her hand, and I waited for flames to shoot out of the tips and turn Bishop into a human baked Alaska.

Preston and I exchanged a glance. He was a surprising source of commiseration, since, you know, he and I had never had much of a personal conversation the entire time I worked there except when he announced he was leaving, and it had been awkward as hell since.

The fact I had a sneaking suspicion he’d closed the office for a week so I could be freely naked with his best friend was just another facet to the weirdness. He probably knew Bishop was seeing a doctor. Maybe that was even part of why he’d asked Bishop to take over for him at Shaw, LLC. Even as busy as Preston was, he didn’t work 24/7, as it sounded like Bishop did. Plus, as a considerate best friend, he probably wanted Bishop to relax more, and what was more relaxing than having sex?

Assuming I didn’t kill the guy inadvertently, a concern that still had not totally left me. I didn’t think it ever would.

But now Ryan was going feral.

Bishop tightened his arm around my shoulders and leaned forward to shake Ryan’s hand. “Bishop Stone. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He arched a brow at Preston. “Though not as much as I’d like.”

Preston ignored him and smiled at me. “Hi, April. Have you eaten yet?”

“We’ve eaten everything.” I laughed too loud and Bishop slanted me a look, probably due to the imminent popping of his eardrums. Whoops. “But I’m still hungry, so if you’d like to grab some stuff, I’ll join you.”

Ryan gave me a hard glance I didn’t quite understand. “Why don’t you and PMS go get some cheese fries and whatever else while I chat with Bishop?”

“Fine by me,” he said cheerfully while I narrowed my eyes.

“Chat about what, exactly?”

“Getting to know you things.” Her smile was entirely too angelic as she plopped down on the bench on his opposite side. “Go on.” She waved me off. “We’ll be fine.”

I fumbled my sunglasses out of my purse as the late day sun threatened to blind me. “Preston can go for all of us. They have trays.”

His eyebrow lifted before he shrugged. “Good luck, man.” He saluted Bishop and meandered off in the direction of the many food stalls.

Considering I knew his success rate with remembering his own lunch, I’d be impressed if he managed to return with enough food for even himself. Besides, it wasn’t like Bishop and I were starving.

Though I wouldn’t have minded some of those onion rings by the slurpee stand…

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Bishop’s voice was so genial it set my teeth on edge. I didn’t like the vibes in the air all of a sudden.

“Gorgeous. Perfect for a light sweater.” Ryan adjusted her shrug. “You’re burning,” she said to me.

“I told her. She forgot her hat.”

“Not just her face, though that especially. Her arms too.” She tugged her bag into her lap and reached in for a tiny tub of salve, passing it to me. “Try that. It should help protect against further damage and soothe any burn you’ve already gotten. It’s also safe for sensitive conditions.” Time for another hard look in Bishop’s direction.

I took the tub and started slathering it on. “Thanks.”

I knew she was angling at something—and I had a very good idea what—but I didn’t want a fight. Even if she was just concerned about me, I wasn’t going to go there. Not now. Not when we’d had such a good day and everything was so new and tenuous.

“So, has Preston moved you in yet?”

Ryan wound her flyaway hair into a knot on top of her head. The wind was kicking up as the sun was heading down. “I’m not a refrigerator. He can’t ‘move me in’ without my participation.”

I sighed. “Sorry. Bad choice of words. I got too much sun today and—”

“Too much baby juice?”

I’d never known even the soles of my feet could blush. Today was an education in a number of ways. “Bishop, can you please give us a few minutes?”

“No, I’d rather not, if that’s okay with you. Obviously Preston told you about our conversation today?”

She pressed her lips together. “He didn’t get too specific but I got the gist. He’s worried.”

“Clearly you are too.”

“Hell no. I have ways of bringing pain into your world you can’t fathom, Stone.”

“Ryan, what the hell?” A quick spurt of panic had me glancing between them. Bishop did not look concerned unlike me. “We really need to talk alone.”

“Sorry, Cinderella, no can do. I think your best friend thinks I’m some kind of baby harvester, instead of just a guy who’s happy. I’m not trying to get her pregnant.”

“Let me explain how this process works. You do things that lead to certain other things, you can anticipate certain outcomes. Or if you just want to know the joys of the latex-free life, you get an IUD or some birth control pills, and you vow to never, ever go to Crescent Cove.”

“We didn’t go to Crescent Cove.” I frowned. “Well, we walked around there today but we both had our underwear on.”

“A relief for the townspeople, I’m sure.” She pulled her leg up under her on the bench and turned her attention toward Bishop. “How does a player go from being all over the place to oh so committed without actual commitment so fast?”

I started to interject, but Bishop held up his hand. “Preston told you I was all over the place?”

“No. He wouldn’t. The guy is more true blue than the flag. I had Luna do a reading. She said you had very intense but inconsistent energy. I surmised that meant that—”

“I’m leading her on for my baby harvesting program.”

“Can you not say baby harvesting?” I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my belly. I was losing my appetite fast. “Or else I’m going to go find Mickey and join her in whistling at fine asses with possibly fake Irish accents.”

“I didn’t realize an ass could have any accent, never mind fake.” Ryan tapped her cheek. “Who’s Mickey?”

“My baby sister. I wanted her to meet April. She’s also my best friend and chief counsel. It was probably neck and neck who wanted her to meet her more, because my sister would hound me forever if she didn’t like her.”

“Yet she’s gone?”

“Yeah, her ultimate seal of approval. Nothing to worry about with her, so she’s not going to get in our space—at least not this soon.” Bishop toyed with my hair, sliding Ryan a pointed look. “Good philosophy. She’s smart for 22.”

“You’re meeting his family?” Ryan demanded as if Bishop had just said we’d had sex in church.

Actually, she would’ve been less shocked at that, minus the whole church aspect. Due to her beliefs, she didn’t visit them as a rule.

“The most important part of my family. I’m estranged from my brother and my parents.”

“Why?”

“Ryan,” I hissed. “Did you completely lose your manners?”

“No, it’s fine.” Bishop’s voice was buttercream smooth. “My ex-fiancée ran off with my brother. My parents sided with him.”

“Technically, his mother wanted to remain neutral.”

“You sure you’re not a lawyer too?” he asked mildly, rubbing his thumb over my lower lip. But he didn’t seem mad at my correction. Maybe he was thinking about what I’d said the other day.

Not that I knew the players involved or had any right to speculate. I just couldn’t stand him thinking his family had all aligned against him except Mickey. I hoped like hell it wasn’t true.

Ryan glanced between us as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “And you’re open and upfront about all this.”

“Yeah. Trying. It wasn’t exactly easy to share it with anyone.” His laughter was wry. “But I want to get this right. Or at least not so wrong.”

“And Preston knows about all this,” she said slowly. “The thing with your ex and your brother, all of it?”

“Yeah. He was at my side when it went down at the wedding. Think about the most soap-opera-like scene you could imagine and that sums it up. They ran out hand in hand. I walked out supported by Preston.” Bishop shook his head and tightened his hold on me as I curled into him to give him support the best way I knew how. “So, if you’re wondering why I’m not the most marriage-minded guy, that’s why. Though I’m not against it. I just want the family more than the piece of paper.” He ran his hand down my hair and then kept going to my arm under my sleeve. “You’re still too warm. We should get you inside.”

“I’m fine. The sun will be gone in a few minutes.” I glanced at my best friend, who no longer appeared ready to take a bite out of him if he said something she didn’t like. “We discussed everything. We might be making unusual choices right now, but we’re doing it with our eyes open. Remember this?” I reached up for my locket, gripped it in my fist. “Staying open to love in all its forms is what I’m trying to do right now. Trusting if the path is meant to be mine, I’ll find my way to it.”

She nodded hard, her aquamarine eyes gem-bright in the fading sun. “Yes. That’s exactly right.” She released a long, slow breath. “Sorry, I forgot myself. I just love you, Apes. You’re my sister. I wouldn’t hesitate to bind his balls if he did anything the slightest bit funky.”

I smiled mistily and started to lean over him to hug Ry when I caught his grimace and laughed. “You’re safe. I’ll protect your balls. But my besties are both witches, so you know, mind them.”

“Your besties or my balls?”

“Both,” Ryan and I said simultaneously before looking at each other and dissolving into laughter. I scrambled away from him to go around to the other side of Ryan on the bench so we could have a nice long hug. We rocked and laughed and maybe even cried a little as the night’s musical entertainment, a country act, started up on the temporary stage.

When I peeked at Bishop, he was staring at us, mystified.

“About time, my man,” he said to someone approaching who must’ve been Preston. “The girls are having a moment, and I didn’t know if I should join in or throw money.”

I kicked him and he laughed.

“Ran into a friend working hard as always at the petting zoo. Grant finally decided to take a half hour off and eat.”

We broke apart as Preston and the man called Grant started offloading food to Bishop. I smiled and stood up to help until I took a good look at him. When I’d seen him last, he’d been walking three dogs.

“Oh, God,” I said under my breath, backing up and frantically looking around for Mickey.

Bishop immediately stood, still juggling the three drinks Preston had all but dumped on him. “What’s wrong?” he asked in an undertone.

I just shook my head and accepted a carton of cheese fries from Preston. “Thank you.”

“Hello again,” Grant said with a smile. “Where’s your mouthy friend?”

I did not speak. How did one answer that question?

“She just had a rough breakup,” I mumbled. “She didn’t mean any harm.”

“Ah, so time to inspect the merchandise, I see. Oh, hello, Ryan. Good to see you again.”

Ryan stood and launched herself at him, giving him a quick hug. “Same goes, Grant. How’s Poppy?”

“Rambunctious as always. And hello to you too, Bishop. Santiago’s well?”

“He’s definitely well, and as mouthy as April’s ‘friend’.” With an eyebrow wiggle at me, Bishop set down the remaining drinks and extended his hand to Grant. “Nice to see you out and about and not working such long hours for once.”

“Oh, the animals treat me well, but people can be a whole other story.” He shook Bishop’s hand then moved back and sent me a charming grin. “And who’s this?”

“This would be my girlfriend.” A warm rush of pleasure spread through me as Bishop looped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “April Finley, meet Grant Thorn, the best vet in the state.”

Still flushed—for several reasons now—I smiled at the vet. “Hi. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, but we met already. In a manner of speaking.”

“She’s a lovely person,” I said quickly. “And I’ll be sure to tell her your accent is real.”

“Appreciate it.” Grant’s laughter was rich and long and had Bishop giving me a healthy dose of side-eye as Grant chatted quietly with Preston and Ryan.

“Okay, what did Mickey say to him?”

I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Trust me, you do not want to know.”