Bishop (Arizona Vengeance 1)

Turning my attention back to Nanette, I yell at her to be heard above the music and din of bar chatter. “Nanette…let’s go.”

She either doesn’t hear me, is too drunk to understand, or is ignoring me. She keeps dancing, looking out around the bar to see if anyone is watching her in return.

“Fuck,” I mutter before reaching up to grab the beer out of her hand. I hand it off to Vance.

That gets her attention and she turns angry eyes at me. “Hey…What the hell, Bishop?”

“Get down and let’s go,” I say to her, holding my hand out so she can step from tabletop to chair to floor. She glares at me a moment, dropping her fistful of hair.

Then she appraises the situation, which tells me she’s not as drunk as I’d thought. There’s a flash of something calculating in her eyes, and then she’s flinging herself at me. She actually just sort of drops from the table, assuming I’ll catch her, which I do. She’s in my arms no more than a few seconds before I’m dumping her on her feet.

She sways a bit and throws her arms around my neck. “Oh come on, Bishop…let’s dance. Why do you have to be such a drag all the time?”

Reaching back, I lock my hands around her wrists and peel her arms off me. I hold them tightly in front of her body while she smirks at me. “I am not here to dance with you, drink with you, or even talk to you. I’m picking you up for Brooke because you rudely called her and demanded it. Now grab your purse and let’s go.”

Her face sours and her lips press into an ugly flat line. She jerks her wrists from me and waves one hand toward Vance, Derek, and Guy, who are standing there watching this unfold with their eyes bugging out. “I’ve got new friends. I’m going to stay out for a while.”

She turns and gives a sexy pout to the guys. Vance immediately takes two steps back, hands held in front of him. “Sorry, but we have plans to be elsewhere and have to go.”

Vance shoots me a quick look as if to ask if that’s the right thing. I give him a curt nod, because I don’t want any more of the Vengeance tied up with this woman. They turn and start to walk away, but I call out, “Hey.”

Three heads turn to look at me over their shoulders. “I don’t care that you’re underage drinking. Just be smart and careful, okay?”

“Got it, Bishop,” Guy says, answering for the other two, who are merely nodding.

“Have fun,” I tell them before bringing my gaze back to Nanette. She’s now standing with her arms crossed over her chest and one hip jutted out, still glaring at me.

“Let’s go,” I say as I turn to the side and motion her to precede.

“Fine,” she snaps, and grabs her purse from one of the chairs. She stomps past me, pushing her way roughly through the crowd. With a sigh, I follow her.

Nanette gives me five minutes of blessed silence on the ride to Brooke’s house before she starts talking. She turns slightly in her seat to face me, her range of motion limited by the seat belt. “Why are you such a downer tonight?”

This comes out as a bit of a whine, which causes me to grit my teeth.

“Not a downer,” I say neutrally without taking my eyes off the road. “Just tired and a little bent out of shape I had to come get you.”

She doesn’t respond at first, which makes me think she’s calculating something. I feel her fingertips on my shoulder, then she shifts in her seat and slides her hand behind my neck. In a throaty voice, she purrs, “I could show you some fun tonight, Bishop.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, I use my other to pull her hand off me and push it back to her side of the car, gently but firmly. It’s my voice that bears the true message. “Don’t put your hands on me again, Nanette. It’s not wanted and won’t ever be returned.”

“Fine,” she grumbles, and slumps down in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest again.

I have no clue if she’s drunk or not, but her words aren’t slurred and she walked okay out of the bar. But while I have a captive audience, I figure I’ll go ahead and delve. “I heard you have a job interview with the Vengeance organization next week.”

“Yup.” I glance over at her to see her examining her nails on one hand.

“What’s that all about?” I ask. “Why do you want to get a job here in Phoenix?”

She shrugs. “Why not? This seems like a nice place, and once again, Brooke has the perfect life here, so why can’t I?”