Bishop: A True Lover's Story

“Sure,” Bishop said, wondering what had happened to Edison’s father. He took out his cellphone and took a few pictures so he could make some sketches. “I can think of something.”

“Great. Because this wouldn’t be the hardest part. You up for a challenge?” Edison asked teasingly, and Bishop found himself liking it. “The real mess is in the backyard. Come on. I need to get my boots to go back there.”

Bishop chuckled, letting it trail off slowly as he gazed down at Edison. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

Edison’s eyes got big before he checked his expression… but it’d been too late. Bishop noticed how much he’d liked the tone of his suggestion. It was obvious Edison was attracted to him and had no clue on how to act on it, as if he was still sizing Bishop up. He’d thought he’d made it pretty clear that he was indeed gay, but he had so many fucking hurdles to clear before he could even begin to think they could go out as something other than business associates.

“O-okay. Come on inside. There’s access to the backyard from the front but I don’t think the gate will open with the grass so high.” Edison turned and walked towards his porch, pulling at his shirt tail. He wondered if Edison knew he was checking out his ass.

Chapter Sixteen

Bishop

The moment Bishop stepped inside Edison’s home, he loved it. He should’ve known his house would be alluring and comfortable, just like the man. The one level home wasn’t huge, but the semi-open floor plan was a great idea. He also liked that it wasn’t all quiet and clinical, with only black and white furniture and unicolor pictures of black roses. Or full of sleek chrome appliances, and over-priced electronics. Instead, it was clean and decorated with colorful paintings and masculine art. Bishop was able to take most of it in as he followed Edison through the living room that had one dark blue, oversized sectional sitting atop a checkered cream and gray area rug. He had an old-school oak wall unit on the one wall separating the baths and bedrooms, complete with a moderate fifty-inch television, turntable stereo system and lots of DVDs, CDs, and… were those VHS tapes?

The dining area was neatly decorated with a table set that looked more like a curved restaurant booth with a bench on the opposite side. In the center was a bowl of fruit and on the end was a still-steaming mug and a laptop. The television was off but smooth jazz played from the stereo speakers.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” Bishop glanced around.

“No. I’d just finished dinner and was working on some cases to kill time until you got here.”

Bishop had noticed the heavenly smell immediately when he’d walked in. Like seared meat, but there was also a honeyed scent in the air that made his stomach growl even though he’d just eaten. Then he thought of Edison eating alone. “It smells good, Edison. What’d you have?”

Edison whirled around before he got to the patio doors that were just off the kitchen. Edison’s really nice kitchen. Again, it wasn’t what he’d expected, but so glad that it wasn’t. The counters were a cool dark and light brown marble. The cabinets were cherry wood and most of the appliances appeared outdated and well-used. Everything was nice and clean and back in its proper place, but it was obvious Edison was just in there. Bishop loved it. It looked like the kitchen he’d dreamed his mom would’ve had if she’d kept him. The life that most other kids had. She’d be in there all the time, at the island, prepping their dinner or maybe making him a school lunch. His father would come in from his legit job as a mailman, or a garbage truck driver and they’d play catch out front until his mom called them in for supper. Yeah, that’d been the stupid shit he’d dreamed about when he’d been in juvie.

Edison’s bright eyes danced as he moved away from the door and into the kitchen. He flicked a switch that made the space twice as bright.

“Wow.”

Edison laughed that sweet laugh. “I like to be able to see.”

Bishop watched him move around the space with ease. Watched his sexy body move beneath those thin pants. He licked his lips, feeling so damn hungry, but not for what was in Edison’s oven. He had to stop asking personal questions and get back to business.

“I made a pot roast and wild rice for dinner, but these are probably what smell so good. Edison opened a drawer and pulled out a green oven mitt and slid it onto his hand. Bishop leaned on the island, intrigued, waiting to see what Edison was reaching for in that large box that resembled another mini oven on top of the counter.