Bishop: A Dark MC Romance (The Devil's Riders Book 3)

Chapter 9

Evie

I made up my mind to splurge on a blueberry muffin and a large special dark, roasted coffee. While I was here at Arturo’s, I’d also decided to pick up an application. As busy as I was with my business, I desperately needed the extra cash, and a few waitressing shifts a week would help with that.

After talking with the manager and receiving an application, I ordered my food and went to pay. “You’re all set,” the young girl behind the counter informed me.

Confused, I cocked my head to the side. “But I haven’t paid yet.”

She smiled dreamily then. “That man in the leather jacket sitting in the corner paid for your order while you were talking with the manager. He said you could have whatever you wanted. He gave me an amazing tip, too!”

Glancing in the direction of her finger, I saw who she was talking about. It was Bishop. Embarrassingly, my pulse notched up several beats faster and I began to sweat a little.

The man was the epitome of cool. Lounging in the corner, his long legs were splayed out in front of him. He wore a leather jacket and cut that were fitted to his muscular frame, and jeans that hugged his body in such a way that it hinted at exactly what he was packing underneath. Essentially, sex on a stick and every bit as lickable as a lollipop.

I knew every woman in the room had one eye on him while pretending to pay attention to whatever conversation they were having. I couldn’t blame them. The man was flippin’ gorgeous. The fading bruises and beard stubble only added to his dangerous allure.

But the most mesmerizing part about the man, in my humble opinion, were those bright, aqua-colored eyes. They looked directly into my soul, holding me prisoner in my own body. Jesus! The man was Adonis personified. How was I going to be able to resist the temptation of allowing him to have his way with me? Since I doubted my own ability, I knew distance was the only reasonable answer to my predicament.

Those mesmerizing eyes were on me now, scanning me up and down with animalistic interest. When he smiled, he was so beautiful that my breath hitched in my chest. Yeah, I was totally screwed.

“So, is he, like, your brother or something?” the girl at the counter pried, not even hiding the fact that she was trolling for details.

I frowned. “He’s a friend,” I returned a bit more possessively than was necessary.

“Oh,” the disappointed teen lamented. Resting her elbow on the counter, she propped her head onto her open palm and continued to gawk openly at the leather-clad man.

Getting to his feet, Bishop’s long stride ate up the distance between us. “Hey beautiful,” he greeted, stroking my cheek as soon as he was close enough to touch me.

My God, this man did it for me. A simple compliment and the barest of caresses were enough to turn my insides to mush and a liquid heat to dampen my panties.

“Hey,” I returned, his smile so contagious that I was parroting it on my own face without even realizing it.

Bishop’s baby blues scanned me up and down. “I wanted to take you out for dinner, but since you wouldn’t get back to me, I had to get creative.”

Well, I’d give it to him. He’d been creative. However, I was curious how he knew I frequented this place at all.

My brow rose quizzically as I asked, “How did you know I’d be at Arturo’s?” I’d never even been here before.

Bishop put his hand on the small of my back and led me over to a booth in the corner where we could talk privately. It seemed he too was aware of all the prying eyes around us, although he didn’t pay them an iota of attention.

“I have my ways,” he teased illusively.

That wasn’t going to cut it for me. I needed a real answer. “I’m not into mysterious,” I warned as I took a seat and he gracefully slid into the one opposite me.

“Eat your muffin and I’ll tell you,” Bishop bartered.

I was no longer hungry. But in the interest of getting what I wanted, I did what my companion wanted and extracted the baked good from the paper bag.

Ripping off a chunk, I popped the sweet confection into my mouth and the flavor detonated on my tongue. My eyes shuttered closed momentarily to enjoy the heavenly texture and sugary delight of the blueberry, carby-goodness. When I opened them back up, Bishop was smoldering back at me, hungrily watching the movement of my tongue glide across my lips searching out any remaining sugar particles.

Blushing, I covered my mouth self-consciously and swallowed. “You aren’t eating?” I posed, hoping to deflect some of the attention away from me.

He slowly shook his head. “Nope. I’m here for you. Not the food.”

As far as lines went, that was a good one. “I see. Well, why? I mean, you could have just texted if you had something to tell me.”

Bishop leaned back and grinned that panty-dropping grin of his. “I did text. Two times. Which is twice more than I usually do. You didn’t respond, so I had to resort to drastic measures.”

That brought us back to the present question of how he’d managed to find me. “And what were these drastic measures?”

Bishop looked rather pleased with himself for his cleverness when he said, “Calling in reinforcements. We share a mutual friend who recommended this coffee place to you today.”

It dawned on me then who he was referring to. “Angel.”

“Bless her beautiful heart,” Bishop returned in earnest.

So that’s why my friend had texted about treating myself to a coffee and snack from this bistro today. She was in cahoots with her husband’s biker buddy! I couldn’t be mad though. I didn’t know much about Angel, but I could tell she was the sort to give fate a little push in what she thought was the right direction. If I wasn’t so overwhelmed with life, I would have thought it was really kind of sweet. But, as it stood, I was, so this delectable man was off-limits to me like sweets on a crash diet!

Besides, I wasn’t in a space where I could get into a relationship right now. Between my job, lack of cash, and my past, it was best I kept my nose to the grindstone and ignored this mouth-watering temptation in front of me.

Let’s be real. I was only a temporary distraction to the gorgeous biker. Once he got what he wanted, a quick lay and maybe my strawberry cream cake recipe, he wouldn’t stick around. He’d be off to the next. Maybe even multiple nexts. Like those twins he’d been palling around with at his party. I was merely a challenge to him because he wasn’t used to hearing the word no. Once he realized there was nothing there besides carnal lust, he’d dump me faster than week-old salmon. Since my poor heart couldn’t take that kind of rejection, it was going to have to tell my lady bits to ignore their wants in place of my soul’s needs.

“So, when are you going to let me take you out for dinner?” Bishop pressed.

I had to come clean before this went any further. I was just delaying the inevitable and it wasn’t kind to either of us. “Bishop,” I began carefully, but he cut me off before I could launch into my spiel.

“Call me Matty,” he said with a heart-melting smile. “It’s what my family calls me back home. I’d like to hear you say it.”

I swallowed, trying to remember my train of thought as he looked deep into my eyes. “Um, okay. Matty,” I conceded, “this isn’t going to work.”

He grinned, seeing where I was going with this, and cutting me off at the knees before I could protest further. “Oh, I know it will,” he replied with more confidence than anyone had a right to exude. “Have no doubt about that.”

I pivoted. “And I’m very busy with work.”

“I’ll make sure I get you in bed by a decent hour then,” he returned, a puckish twinkle in his eyes. “Scouts honor.”

“You were a scout?” I asked disbelievingly.

“No, but I take their pledge very seriously,” he replied deadpan.

I giggled despite myself. “Bishop!”

“Matty,” he corrected.

Why did it matter? We weren’t going to be anyone to each other once I left this coffee shop. I needed to get a hold of my imagination and stop fantasizing that we could work out. That he might actually care about me. It was a pipedream and what a little girl would do. Not a full-grown woman who had goals and aspirations she needed to attend to.

“I just can’t do this,” I reiterated. “I’m, I’ve got a lot of baggage,” I confessed, biting my bottom lip nervously.

“And I’m a guy who you met in prison while teaching a life skills course. Shit happens, Babe. But you don’t run away from a good thing when you find it because you’re scared that it might not turn out the way you want it to.”

He had a point, but that didn’t stop me from ignoring it. “I just can’t right now. It’s complicated.”

“Fine. We’ll just start with sex and work our way up to the relationship. I can live with that,” he teased, stealing a bite of my muffin.

Again, I laughed. This man was incorrigible! And dangerous, I reminded myself. He was an ex-con and a member of a notorious MC. And from what I’d read about the Devil’s Riders online, it wasn’t a peaceful biker club, if there even was such a thing. They were hard-core, like-minded men who didn’t take shit from anyone but doled it out however they damn well pleased. At least, that’s what Google had to say about them.

I was guessing the reason Matty went to jail had something to do with them as well. And because I had no desire to follow in my mother’s footsteps, I didn’t care to find out the answer to that question. I wasn’t about to get ensnared in Club politics. I couldn’t afford to.

“We’ve got a bonfire coming up this Saturday,” Matty said. “It’s the first of the season. There’ll be a ton of people from the Club there as well as other MCs. We need someone to help out with the food. I can’t think of anyone better than you. The guys are still raving about your meatball sliders and strawberry cake. It pays exceptionally well, and you’ll earn my gratitude for life. What do you say?”

I wanted the paycheck, but I couldn’t risk the proximity to this sexy as hell biker. I wasn’t a masochist. How much self-restraint could one girl be expected to endure?

I frowned, thinking it over some before confessing, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Matty reached out and snagged the application for the waitressing job tucked under the paper bag my muffin had been resting on. “So, this is just for the fun of serving coffee to ungrateful clients who will scream at you because they’re having a bad day, and leave you an even worse tip for your troubles?”

Damn him for being so perceptive. “It’s hard starting a new business,” I said defensively. “I need to make a little extra cash here and there to help keep me afloat.”

“You’re right. It is hard. Therefore, it would be foolish to turn away well-paying clients that will continue to be repeat customers,” Matty logically reasoned.

He was breaking down any good argument I had. “Well, there isn’t much time for me to prepare. What are you looking for?”

Matty’s gaze traveled down the length of my body, and I squeezed my thighs together to stop the tingling sensation he invoked there.

“Angel’s in charge of that, but I’m sure she’d be happy with any help you can give. She’s overwhelmed and I want to lighten her load,” he kindly explained.

I caved. I’m not sure what got me. The money. The promise of future clients. Or his blinding charisma. Maybe it was a combination of all three. But I was suckered in.

“Okay,” I relented. “I can’t promise how much I’ll be able to do, but I’ll call Angel and get started on a basic menu.”

Bishop grinned that boyish grin of his. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of hundred-dollar bills and handed it to me. I didn’t want to do anything so crass as count it in front of him, but I knew there must be at least a couple thousand dollars there.

“Take this to get started. When you want more, text me and I’ll personally deliver whatever you need,” he told me with a wink, a definite double-entendre to his statement.

My eyes lifted from the cash up to his. “This should be fine for now.”

His phone pinged with a text, and he quickly scanned it. “I gotta go. But you haven’t heard the last of me. I’ll be calling you later tonight, Evie. Make sure you answer.”

Standing, Bishop pulled me to my feet and into his arms. His mouth, warm and inviting, landed on mine. When our lips met, the world faded away and I melted into his arms like a gooey marshmallow over a cozy campfire.

When he released me, I was dizzy. Catching my breath, I could feel the entire room staring in our direction.

Bishop could too. Giving my rear a squeeze and all the lookie-loos a show, he whispered into my ear, “See you soon, Babe.”

As he walked out, I heard the young teen at the counter complain to her fellow waitress that she wished she had friends who looked and kissed like the gorgeous man in leather.

Embarrassed for causing a scene, I quickly scooped up my coffee and muffin and headed back to my car. As I started it up, I heard the tail end of a motorcycle accelerate onto the highway and realized I was well and truly hooked.

* * *

Evie

The menu for the bonfire was simple enough. Burgers, hot dogs, steaks, and an enormous pig being roasted over an open fire. Angel and I had shopped for the first two on the list, but the MC was responsible for sourcing and cooking the pig.

I’d also made some sides to complement the meal. We had all the usual fare you’d see at a cookout. Potato salad, baked beans, pasta salad, macaroni and cheese, and a truck’s worth of mixed greens. For dessert, I made various types of cookies.

Since we didn’t know exactly how many people were coming to the party, we had to assume there would be over a hundred. I’d never cooked for such a large group before, and I was nervous that I’d screw it up. Angel and I prepped over the entire week together and had to make half a dozen visits to large chain box stores to buy in bulk.

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was so stressed I had no fingernails left. I’d bitten them down to stubs. Angel noticed this as we were walking through the grocery store for the umpteenth time.

Grabbing my hand while we were in the produce aisle, she shook her head. “Do you always do this?”

I shrugged. It was a terrible habit I’d picked up as a child and couldn’t shake as an adult. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

Angel nodded sympathetically. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Besides baking scores of cookies for tomorrow’s cookout, not much,” I told her.

“You’ve been working nonstop to help us with this party. You deserve a break and a treat.” Taking out her cell phone, she shot off a quick text that was returned in seconds. Smiling, she looked back at me. “Let’s pay for our stuff and get out of here. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“What about all the food?” I asked, confused about where we’d go with a thousand dollars of groceries in our trunk.

“I’ll have Duke take it back to the Clubhouse for us,” Angel explained.

Duke was a Devil’s Rider Prospect. This meant he was trying to get into the MC but hadn’t earned his patch yet. The good-looking biker had driven us to the market, and pretty much followed Angel around wherever she went. I wasn’t sure why that was necessary, but apparently it was.

Angel had told me that since she’d become pregnant, her husband had been extra cautious with her comings and goings. He barely let her visit the bathroom without being watched. I thought that notion was absurd. But what did I know? I wasn’t married to the president of a notorious MC. Either way, my friend didn’t seem bothered by it, so I tried to emulate her lack of concern and ignore our constant bodyguard.

Since I liked hanging out with Angel, I agreed to her mystery treat. When Duke pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall, I looked around at the many stores.

“I told you I wanted you to meet my friend, Amelia,” Angel said gleefully, as we stepped out of the car. “Well, this is her place! It’s a full-service salon called The Baby Doll.”

A bright pink sign on a white backdrop greeted us as we walked into the bustling establishment. It smelled like cucumber and melon as we entered. I could tell by just looking at this place that it was expensive, and my heart sank. I knew I couldn’t afford anything they offered, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my new friend by admitting as much.

The little bell over the door tinkled and alerted everyone that we’d arrived. A beautiful blonde noticed us then, and I couldn’t help but spot the uncanny resemblance to Matty. She had to be his sister because this woman was practically his clone, albeit a female version of him. Their mother must have been beautiful because these two looked like Swedish cover models showcased in bougie salon magazines.

“You must be Evie!” the gorgeous woman greeted, giving me a great big hug and a tender kiss on my cheek. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

She had the same infectious smile as her brother, and I instinctively returned it. “I am. Angel has told me about you, too.”

Her sparkling blue eyes were done up in flawless Instagram-worthy makeup that only managed to accentuate her natural beauty. “It’s good to finally meet you. Your food was amazing at my brother’s party! I can’t thank you enough for everything you did to make that happen.”

I blushed at her effusive compliments. “Thank you. I just took over this catering company from a friend, and I appreciate the business.”

“I know a little something about that,” Amelia returned, her arms splayed wide. “It isn’t easy starting a business from the ground up. But it’s worth it.”

“This place is amazing,” I told her, looking around at all the busy stations of women getting pricey, high-end services.

Angel shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack. “I was thinking we could treat Evie here to a mini spa day for all of her hard work. You can just put it on my tab, Amelia,” my friend offered generously.

As beautiful of a gesture as it was, I simply couldn’t, in good conscience, accept such a large gift. Before I could protest though, Angel held up her hands in the international gesture for silence.

“Before you tell me no,” she correctly anticipated, “I’m telling you yes. You deserve this, Evie. As a friend, I want to treat you to something enjoyable. Please let me do this for you. I promise I can afford it. That wasn’t always the case for me, so now I like to give back whenever I can.”

Her sincerity made me swallow back tears. “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed.

Amelia did a little jig in place. “Excellent! Where should we start? Hair? Nails? Massage?”

I giggled. “A massage sounds wonderful right now.” I carried my tension in my shoulders and today was no different.”

“Perfect. Let me introduce you to Allen. He’ll be giving you your massage today.”

Amelia called over Allen and we worked out what service I’d like done. I chose the Swedish option, as it seemed incredibly relaxing. After I’d had the most luxurious hour that money could buy, I was seated at a sleek table where Gabrielle, a sweet girl with a sharp, black bob, worked on my nails.

Gabrielle valiantly tried to shape the stubs at the end of my fingertips into acceptable shapes. “Girl, what have you been doing with your nails?”

“I bite them when I’m stressed,” I returned, stating the obvious.

Gabrielle whistled. “I guess so. You know what the answer to that is, don’t you?” I shook my head and she grinned big. “You need to get a set of gel extensions. You won’t be able to chew on those the way you chew on your regular ones.”

I thought the idea over and decided against it. Not only was it impractical for cooking, but I couldn’t afford the upkeep. “I need to keep my nails short for my job.”

“I get it,” Gabrielle conceded. “Let’s do a gel overlay just to protect the length. It’ll help strengthen the nail plate and let them grow out naturally.”

I agreed and Gabrielle began to prep my hands for the gel. By the time I was done, I was in awe of her skill. “They’re beautiful!” I complimented, fluttering my newly manicured fingers at her.

“They are, aren’t they?” she said with a proud smile, as she began to clean up her station.

Amelia leaned over my shoulder. “That color is perfect for you and the season. Are you ready for me to work on your hair now?”

I hadn’t had a haircut in forever. Between lacking time and the funds to get it done properly, I’d let the thick mass grow long and unruly. At this point, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with it.

Fingering the long strands, I gave it a hard think but came up blank. “What would you recommend?”

Amelia was beautiful and sophisticated. Next to her, I felt frumpy and out of style. I’d agree to whatever she had in mind, as long as the upkeep wouldn’t be too expensive.

“Some honey-toned highlights would make your eyes pop,” Amelia stated after a moment of consideration. “Angel, what do you think?”

Angel was seated in one of the empty swivel chairs next to Amelia’s station. “Definitely. Evie has the most amazing eyes. Honey-colored highlights would only showcase them more.”

Uncomfortable with the compliments, I glanced down at my hands. “Whatever you think will look good.”

Amelia set to work mixing my color as Angel chatted about the upcoming party and all that we’d accomplished so far. “I’m so glad Bishop enlisted Evie’s help. I could never have done it without her.”

Amelia stopped dead in her tracks. “Bishop. My brother, who doesn’t ever bother himself with the planning of his own birthday parties, asked you to help?”

Angel grinned ear to ear. “Yup.”

Amelia’s face brightened with a smile all her own. “How do you know my brother?”

“I met Matty in prison, actually,” I nervously confessed.

Laughing, Amelia shook her head in utter shock. “My brother lets you call him, Matty? He threatened to start calling me Princess publicly if I ever used his childhood nickname in front of anyone ever again!”

“Oh,” I returned, slightly confused. “He told me he wanted me to call him that. Maybe I misunderstood.”

Setting down the bowl of excess product, Amelia sank into the seat opposite mine to wait for my color to develop. “Spill. I want to know where you met and what kind of magic you weave that has tamed my utter man-whore of a brother!”

I knew she was joking, but there was more than just a touch of truth to her words that made me think twice about talking. Especially since I didn’t know how Matty would feel about me gossiping about him. I mean, I know he said he liked me and all, but I was fairly certain he was just trying to get into my pants. Telling his family about “us” seemed way too forward a move. Especially when I knew there was never even going to be an “us” to discuss.

Figuring the subject of our meeting was public record though, I started at the beginning and explained about my volunteer work. A million questions later, I told her about how we’d freakishly bumped into each other again when Angel had asked me to cater his homecoming party.

Amelia clapped a perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. “You’re the girl in the kitchen!”

It took me a second to understand the claim. When I realized what she was saying, I turned beet red. “Um, yeah. I was there for most of the party. I’d meant to get out and socialize, but I guess I just got lost in my work.”

Noticing my discomfort, Amelia grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I meant that Hawk told me that Bishop was distracted by a girl in the kitchen the night of his party when I wanted to give him his gift. It all makes sense now. He was keeping you company in the kitchen and didn’t want to hang out with the rest of us because he was having such a good time with you!”

That was definitely the nice way of putting it. “I told him to go back to the party. He wouldn’t listen.”

Amelia giggled. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Bishop was always a sucker for a pretty face and nice behind.”

Her flattering words made me turn a darker shade of red. “I don’t know about that. I think he just feels connected to me because of the time we spent together in Cantiville. It’s not the nicest place. The men there are lonely and grateful for any reminder of home.”

A storm cloud breezed over Amelia’s sunny face then and I immediately regretted my words. “He has been different ever since he’s come back home. He tries to act like his old, lighthearted self, but it just isn’t the same. I can only imagine what he went through in that hellhole. But I know, no matter how I try, he’s not going to talk about it. He’s going to do the man thing and secretly let it eat away at him before he’ll ever say a single word about his experience there.”

“I’m familiar with that behavior,” Angel said. “Reaper does something eerily similar. I usually get it out of him by offering something he wants. That usually ends with me on my back and my legs spread wide. It must be a biker thing!”

Amelia laughed with gusto. “For sure!”

In an attempt to lighten the mood, I asked, “Do you think I should cut my hair? I’m not sure what style would look best. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with it that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Amelia opened up Pinterest and we got to work narrowing down ideas. We settled on cutting off a few inches and framing my face with some well-placed angles. Nothing extreme, but the final product was lovely.

“You’ve done it again,” Angel announced. “I love how the angles accentuate Evie’s heart-shaped face. It makes her look like a living doll.”

I had to agree. Not about the doll part, but about Amelia’s skill with scissors. “Can I take you home with me,” I joked, wanting to look like this every day.

Amelia beamed at our collective praise. “Would you like to come over before the bonfire tomorrow and we can all get ready together? It’s a tradition Angel and I started after she met Reaper.”

I felt so honored to be included that I smiled big and accepted with absolute sincerity. “I’d love to!”