21. Bishop

The room growssilent as Porter and I pant and try to calm our racing hearts. He just rocked my world like no one before him, and I can't stop the stitch of disappointment that he likely couldn't admit the same.

"Are you ever gonna tell me the truth?"

"'Bout what?"

"About leaving?"

"Christ, not this again." He lifts his torso as if to get up, but I roll on top and pin him down. And just as he's about to object, I fit my mouth against his and kiss him hard, my tongue sneaking inside his mouth until I feel his muscles soften and he gives in.

We kiss for a long time, until I reluctantly drag myself away. He looks debauched as I stare down at him, and I can't help smirking.

"I'm not trying to upset you, Port. It's just…this is something between us that I can't shake."

He rubs his eyes and murmurs, "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"I told you." I roll to my back and stare at the ceiling. "Because it hurt something awful."

He puffs out a jagged breath. "Even knowing that it could never last?"

"Doesn't mean it didn't feel real with you. No matter what we told ourselves. You were…" My first—and only—love. "Important to me."

I hear a sharp inhale, but he doesn't say anything. I don't expect him to. He holds his emotions too close to the vest.

"Maybe that's the reason?" I ask, trying to temper my voice. "It was getting too serious and it scared you off?"

When there's no response outside of his arm muscles tightening, I wish I could take the words back. Still, I stay motionless and wait.

Finally, he shifts toward me. "After my mom died, I came to see you. Hell, I ran to see you. I wanted to talk to you, to ask you to hold me, make me forget."

"What?" I sit up, my pulse jumping. "No, you didn't. At least nobody told me. I asked around the ranch if anyone saw you here or in town, desperate for any information."

He frowns and averts his eyes. "I parked down the hidden road and came to the house on foot. But when I got close, I saw Aimee there, with you. I could picture it perfectly in my mind just watching the two of you: the future Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan."

"That's not true!" I protest.

He huffs out a laugh. "Isn't it? She's who your parents wanted for you, and you married her."

"How can you say that when—" I motion between us, trying to make sense of everything crowding my head. "And why didn't you just call to me? I would've asked her to leave."

He shakes his head. "You don't get it. Never have, I suppose."

I clench my jaw. "Get what?"

"That I don't belong here. Never have, never will." When he sits up and reaches for his shirt, my mouth feels dry, like I've swallowed gravel. "We're always sneaking around. Even now, I parked in the secret spot so nobody sees me banging the boss."

There's nothing I can say to defend that, and as I watch him slide into his jeans, I feel a cold punch to my chest. "But you said?—"

"You're right. I agreed to this. It's fun to hook up with you. Probably the best fuck I've ever had." He shrugs. "So why not? I'll likely leave at the end of the holiday season, or maybe hold out until the first signs of spring."

Wetness stings my eyes because this feels too close to the surface, too real. Almost like a repeat of eleven years ago. "But what if I don't want you to?"

"You don't get to tell me what to do. I don't belong to you. No matter how much I used to want to." He grips the door handle. "But that was just a childish fantasy."

"It was my fantasy too," I call after him as the door shuts, leaving me feeling cold and alone.

Fucking hell, I wish I'd never brought it up. It ruined an amazing night between us, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex. Earlier at the bar, it felt like a new beginning.

I stand on shaky legs and begin pacing the room. I tell myself the topic had to be brought up. There are unresolved things between us, and that was one of them. But it's like Porter put me in my place, reminded me who we are to each other—and it isn't long-lost lovers. It's boss and employee, who happen to be former childhood crushes wanting to scratch an itch as adults.

I push a hand roughly through my hair. For me, it's more than an itch. It's an ache embedded deep in my soul.

But can I blame Porter? We were always a secret, which was mostly my fault. I wasn't out to anyone, and I'm still not. Though I'm not sure it would make a difference even if I were. Porter will never lay our family's history to rest. He feels we robbed him of something. Which makes the fact that he's here now, working for the ranch again, that much more shocking.

Maybe there's an ulterior motive, even if Porter doesn't realize it yet. Maybe he plans to steal something in return. Like my heart.

Too late.

I cut the light and crawl back into bed with the scent of Porter and sex all around me. Wish I could smell like this all day, all week. Damn, the way he ate my ass like a starving man and then fucked me good… That's not something I'll ever be able to shake.

My eyes finally shut, and I'm lulled to sleep by the aroma of him in my sheets.

* * *

The following morning at breakfast, Mom is looking at me weirdly, and I wonder if she heard us last night. I'm not sure how, since my bedroom is at the opposite end of the house relative to theirs, but maybe she had insomnia and was wandering around.

After another minute of feeling scrutinized, I can't take it anymore. "What? Did I miss a spot shaving?"

Dad smirks as he buries his nose further between the pages of the local newspaper. He still gets monthly magazine deliveries too, though they're all available online.

"I'm not allowed to admire my handsome son?"

"You see me every day." I set down my spoon. "Something's up. What is it?"

"Okay, fine." She averts her gaze. "Guess who's in town?"

"The tooth fairy?" I scoff. "Please, I can't take the suspense."

"Aimee Goring," she announces, and I'm struck by the sound of her married name. "And her new baby."

I blink. When I'd heard that she and her new husband were trying for kids, I was thrilled for her, that she'd found someone to share her dreams with. And then last winter, a rumor was going around that she might be pregnant. I'd steered clear, wanting to avoid any speculation about our failed marriage. Looks like Mom heard the news too, but for whatever reason, tiptoed around me.

"It's a boy, so he's Blake Jr. Isn't that lovely?"

"Uh-huh." I swallow roughly, wondering why it's making me feel emotional. "I'm pleased for her and Blake. I hope they're blissfully happy."

"Do you?" Mom asks, eyeing me again.

"I do. We weren't right for each other, and I feel bad about that. But I still consider her a friend." Though we haven't really stayed in touch the last couple of years. And now I saw why—she's been busy. "That's all our marriage was. Friendship because I…" I trail off and dig into my toast, regretting I said as much as I did.

"You…what?" Mom urges. "What were you gonna say?"

"I know you're disappointed I'm not married with kids, but I've never felt that way about anyone except one person, and it wasn't Aimee."

"Then why did you marry her?" Dad asks pointedly.

"Because I thought…I thought I could learn to love her in that way. And I wanted you to be…I don't know exactly. Maybe proud of me?"

"For being married and having kids?" Dad's eyebrows knit together. "We're proud of you regardless."

"Are you, though?" Somehow I'm feeling raw and vulnerable this morning, especially after last night. "Would you be proud no matter what?"

"Well, now you're scaring me," Mom says, and my parents share a look. "What does that mean?"

"Not sure. I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment, I guess. Just ignore me."

My dad's hand lands on my shoulder. "I know the pressure of running this ranch can get to you. But you're doing a wonderful job, and I trust you to make your own decisions about your future."

My heart balloons in my chest because fuck, it's good to hear. "Thank you."

We grow silent as we finish our breakfast. But I can still feel Mom's gaze on me, wondering what that was all about. And I decide right then that I'll tell them both about being bisexual. Just not today.

"Is Aimee staying with her folks?" I ask. "Maybe we can catch up."

"As a matter of fact…" Mom stands to clear dishes. "I invited her for lunch."

Ah, there it is. "When?"

She averts her gaze. "Today."

I tamp down my frustration that she didn't check with me first, instead focusing on the opportunity to see an old friend. "Then I better get to my chores so I can make time for her visit."

I go through the rest of the morning in a fog, and it's almost like I'm living in the past again. Aimee's imminent arrival, right on the heels of Porter's confession that he left town shortly after seeing us together that day, has thrown me for a loop.

The men notice, but no one says anything except for Wade. "You okay, boss?"

My eyes briefly meet Porter's before he looks away. "Yeah, sure. Just need more coffee."

We're outside the stable, discussing how well our morning of weaning the calves from the cows went, when I see dust kicking up the driveway. Aimee parks her vehicle, then steps out to reach for her son in the car seat. It feels surreal to see that tiny baby in her arms.

I don't look at Porter. I can't. It's been awkward enough as it is this morning.

I lift my hand in a wave as I head over to her. "Hey, stranger!"

She pulls me into a one-armed hug. "It's so good to see you."

She introduces me to her napping baby, and I marvel at his tiny fingers and toes. My parents greet her from the porch and motion for us to come inside.

At the bottom of the steps, Aimee turns to me. "You look good. You been okay?"

"Yeah, all good. Seems you are too."

She kisses Blake's forehead. "Totally."

"Glad you're happy. I always wanted that for you."

"I always wanted that for you too." She glances over my shoulder. "I see Wade is still here, but most of the others are new faces."

I toe a rock on the ground. "Well, that's nothing new in this business."

She'd know more than anyone, given her family's successful ranching business. It surprised me when she moved out of town, but I suppose she had her reasons. I always hoped it was for love and nothing to do with me.

"True," she muses, then gasps. "Is that Porter Dixon?"

"Sure is. Came back into town and asked for a job."

"Imagine that. Just as handsome as ever." There's no way to respond, so I remain silent as she stares in their direction for a long beat. Wade lifts his hand in a wave, and she returns the gesture as Porter fusses with our border collies, who are no doubt eager to play after keeping an eye on the cows and calves all morning. "Have you told him?"

"Told him what?"

"That you were in love with him." She meets my gaze head-on. "You were heartbroken for months after he left."

"No, I…" I open and shut my mouth, unable to find any words. But my heart feels like it might explode out of my chest.

"It's okay. We married each other for the wrong reasons. I finally listened to my gut, not my parents, and it's time for you to do the same." She gives me a pointed look. The baby yawns just then, and it's the sweetest sound. "Want to hold him?"

Before I can answer, she's already positioning the tiny human in my arms. I'm staring at his cheekbones and eyelashes and feel a strange twinge in my gut I can't explain.

"Come on, you two," Dad calls through the screen. "Lunch is waiting."

Aimee smiles. "Maybe we'll have a chance to catch up later."