Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel (30 page)

Still holding my kid, I turned back to the realtor who was staring at us with very wide eyes as he pressed his fingers to his mouth.  “If I can get it for a solid twenty-eight hundred a month and can have crews in to start next Monday, then we have a deal.”

“I’ll have the papers ready by tomorrow,” the realtor gushed, rushing up to shake my hand.

And I glanced at J.R. to see my boy-man rolling his eyes which I knew was at all the corny adult shit that was being thrown around right in front of him.

Or might even have been at having been a go-between between me and Stan.

But I couldn’t deny just having J.R. around made everything easier to handle.

Chapter Twenty Three

Bishop pulled up at the hotel and eyed both Dory’s and J.R.’s room doors before sighing. 

The night that followed was gonna be hard, hard in a way he’d never experienced.  And he’d been preparing his speech to her since the very moment his eyes had lit on the portions of what Stephenson had included in his oh-so-legal, so-full-of-judicial-bullshit writ that basically called Dory a whore and a sorry excuse for a mother.

One that Bishop knew was so far from the truth that it was a total crock.

And he need to make it up to her somehow.  In some way.

He only hoped that his upcoming night’s plans would help. 

In some fashion.

Because he was totally and truly fucked if it didn’t.

He turned off the motor of the Escalade, his eyes still trained on the room doors, as he thought.  As he tried to imagine how the evening would go.  There were apologies to be done.  Bridges to be built, if nothing else.

But, fuck!  He wanted more.

His boots thudded against the cement stairs as he made his way up them, in direct cadence to the beat of his heart and as he stood outside her door, he realized he was almost panting in the need to be with her. 

To talk to her. 

To fucking explain!

And just as he was raising a hand to knock, to announce his presence, the door next to hers opened.  Turning his eyes he saw J.R. exiting.

“Hey, Bishop!” his son greeted.  And if Bishop wasn’t mistaken, J.R. was totally delighted at seeing his father standing outside.  “Good timing, huh?”

“Yeah.  I mean, yeah,” Bishop stuttered as his eyes took in the almost mirror image of himself at that age.  How had he missed that view before?   Of how J.R. was the spitting image of how he’d been as an early teen?  “Do you think you mom is ready to go?”

“Dunno,” the kid muttered with Bishop’s one-sided grin.  “Girls make me crazy.”

“It gets worse as you get older,” J.R.’s dad replied, trying so fucking hard to find the compass point of normal in that moment. 

“Geesh, no wonder so many guys go gay, then,” the boy-man offered before slapping his palm on the door and drumming his fingers.

“Uhm, son?  That’s not how the gay thing works, dude,” Bishop advised as he heard the locks within shoot open.

“It’s not?”  And as Bishop turned his eyes to his boy he realized there was, for the kid that seemed to have a handle on everything, so much that Bishop, as his father, could teach him.

“No, buddy.  It’s not.”  And the older biker’s voice caught in his throat as his gaze involuntarily went to the sight of Dory as he held the door open with a crooked smile.  Which was two seconds before his heart dropped in disappointment.

She wasn’t dressed for dinner but was still wearing the clothes she’d worn earlier in the day and she hadn’t even reapplied her makeup.  “Don’t you both look nice?  Listen, I’ve got some stuff to do but you two go on ahead.” 

Bishop searched her face, wondering what was so motherfucking important that it precluded her from joining them for dinner but her expression didn’t give him a clue.

“It’ll give you guys some alone time without me horning in.”  Even her tone didn’t provide any info on what was going on.

“You’re not coming?”  J.R.’s question only echoed the confusion that was rumbling through Bishop.

“Nah, buddy.  But I should be back by the time your dad brings you back.”  Nope, nothing in her voice indicated she was angry or acting out of spite. 

J.R. turned and fully faced Bishop.  “Yay!  My first motorcycle ride!”

Letting the confusion of Dory’s behavior behind, Bishop hastened to set J.R. straight.  “Brought the truck, little man.  We’ll save the bike ride for another day.”

“But why…”  J.R.’s plaintive tone seemed overly loud at Bishop’s announcement.

“You guys have fun!”  Dory interrupted before she quietly closed her door.

Succinctly cutting off any protestations Bishop might’ve offered in order to convince her to come along.  Without giving him the opportunity to talk to her about what he’d discovered in the documents Stephenson had filed.

And to apologize.

*.*.*.*.*

True to my word, I was back at the hotel before J.R. and Stan returned.  But then my business hadn’t taken long after I’d made up my mind. 

I knew that my behavior had knocked Stan for a loop, at how I had declined dinner but I needed to get things moving in the right direction and I’d been determined to do it myself.  To have it set in place before he learned of it and could stop it.

So when the knock on my door came, I felt better than I had in days.  More confident that there might be a way for us to work together. 

“Wanted to let you know that I was gonna take off,” he mumbled my way after I opened the door.  To my mind, he seemed unsure as if how to act, shifting from foot to foot, tossing his braid over his shoulder and smoothing back the little wisps of hair the wind was stirring around his face.  “We’ve gotta make some time to talk, though.  Talk plain, direct and without the audience of our kid, dig?”

“Why not now, Stan?”  I took a couple steps back, moving the door with me as a clear invitation.  “I’ve got time if you do.”

His eyes widened before he nodded and stepped into my room.  But by the time I’d closed the door and twisted the dead-bolt, the surprise in his face was gone.

 “Read the papers all the way through, Dory.  Just like you asked me to,” he growled, his beautiful eyes steady and firm on mine.  “That’s not what I thought I was asking for.  Or rather, I may have thought that’s what I wanted at first but…”

I turned away and walked to the tiny kitchen, sweeping a hand toward the table where we’d had breakfast in a silent request for him to sit down.  I knew he was still talking but I wasn’t paying attention.  My thoughts were on what I needed to get out, to get said.

“Stop, Stan,” I cut in, turning to face him.  “You called an attorney, told him what you wanted and papers were filed. 
Legal
papers.  The kind that can’t be stopped but only superseded with other filings.”  I turned my head away as I tried to come up with the words that were churning inside.  “Now, especially after all we got up to last night, you’ve changed your mind, right?”

His eyes never left mine as he took a seat and I took heart at the movement.

“Both of us want J.R. and I wouldn’t have minded sharing him with you.”  I forced a smile on my face as I choked the words out.  “But you didn’t give me a chance, did you?  Didn’t even try to talk it through together and work something out.  No.  You took the other road, bullying me, manipulating me and J.R. into moving.  Forcing us to turn our lives inside out and upside down so you can get what you want.  And now you’ve had a change of heart?”

“Babe…” he started and I held up a hand because I was far from finished.

“So, because of what you’ve started, J.R. has an appointment tomorrow for a DNA test and I have an appointment with an attorney who’s agreed to represent me.  Then there’s the meeting with the realtor regarding the new shop as well as a phone call with the movers that were hired today in order to get my belongings from Casper to here.  Which I have to say is going to cost me a whack and will set me back a bit until the shop is up and running.  And all this was started because of
your
instructions, of what
you
told
your attorney
to do.”  I took a deep breath and glanced to see Stan’s eyes were steady on me, holding an expression that seemed…regretful.

I’d deliberately kept my tone of voice easy, conversational, which seemed to do the trick in making sure he listened to me, really heard what I needed to get off my chest.  Because he needed to see what his decision, the one he’d made about going after me for full custody, had done to our lives.  “So while I appreciate that you weren’t aware of
everything
you put into motion, you have to understand that it was still
you who did it
.  And just because we had a few amazing hours last night, you’ve changed your mind but that’s not how real life works.  Not with what was started the moment Stephenson filed those papers.”

“I’ll get Stephenson to stop it, to change it.”

I couldn’t help my sigh and I turned my head away to escape the pain that was etched on Stan’s face.  I sat down in the chair opposite him and placed my hands on the table.  “Okay.  You do that.  But Stan?”  I leaned towards him because I really needed him to hear me.  “What’s to say you won’t change your mind again?”

Stan shut his mouth with an audible click and stared at me before a muscle in his cheek began to flex.

“Like I said, I want to work with you which is one reason I bowed out of dinner.  I think you spending time with J.R. is a good idea and hope that as you get to know him and vice versa, that sharing him will become easier for us both.”  And I figured that it was finally time for me to take the next step in trying to find peace between us.  “Actually, there are things I have to do tomorrow afternoon too so if you want to take him again, I’d be okay with that.”

Stan sat back and blinked at me in surprise before a one-sided grin began.  I didn’t want it to change but I needed to get the rest out before his expectations got too high.  “But it’s just you and him.  No Hellions and by that I also mean no going to the compound.”

The corner of his mouth that had been quirked dropped a bit. 

“That’s my number one rule, Stan, and nonnegotiable.  I don’t want J.R. around the club in any way shape or form.  If we can get that understood, then I don’t have any problems with the two of you spending time together.”

We shared a long look.

“Okay,” Bishop finally replied but I could tell he didn’t like my restriction in the least. 

*.*.*.*.*

Bishop watched her as stood up from the table, snagging her cup and taking it into the kitchen.  “Would you like something to drink?”

“What you having?”

“Just some chamomile tea with honey.”

His mind went over the list of acceptable drinks on his new diet plan and made his decision.  “Sounds good.”

“Since when did you start drinking tea, Stan?”  Her voice was light, teasing as she pulled a second cup out, filled it with water and set it in the microwave to heat. 

But he didn’t want to shoot the shit about his dietary restrictions, just then noticing a spiral edged notebook and pen that had been shoved off to the side of the table.   “Notes, babe?”  Somehow Dory making fucking notes, setting their shit to paper bothered him.  A lot.

Although it could have been the residual of her demand that J.R. couldn’t be around the club.  A non-negotiable demand.

“I just thought maybe you and I could work a few things out before I go see Cranston tomorrow.”  Her chin pointed at the notebook as she pulled out teabags from a box.  “I mean if you’re going to get Stephenson to change things, maybe we could have a plan in place before this goes any further.”

As ideas went, it was a good one.  Would find both of them having their say, working things out with each other instead of having their lawyers fucking going toe-to-toe in court.  He read a couple of the items she had listed and had to admit that it seemed like she had thought things through pretty well. 

Dory put his cup down next to his hand along with the honey and a spoon.  “I meant what I said, that I’m willing to share J.R. but I think we need to spell out the particulars.”

And for the next couple of hours, that’s what they did, talking through all the items she’d listed.

“Still a moot point, babe, if we’re living right next to each other,” Bishop mumbled when they went back through their proposed visitation schedule.  Which made her frown, the first bit of emotion she’d shown beyond the business-like one she’d been working to keep front and center.  “You’ve gotta make a decision on where you two are gonna plant it.”

She sat back in her chair and glanced at him before turning her face away.  “I’m don’t want to be living in your back pocket, Stan.  Which I would be if I decide to rent the Henderson place.”  She folded her arms on the tabletop and shook her head.  “How would we lead separate lives living so close?”

“Separate lives?”  Bishop’s heart skipped a beat but before he allowed himself to get pissed, he wanted to fully understand what she meant.  “Kinda hard to have separate fucking lives, babe, if we’re sharing a kid.”

“I mean, you know, things like dating and stuff.”

“Dating?”  He hated how he was parroting her but the idea she’d be actively seeking and enjoying the company of other men set his teeth on edge.  Had she missed something in their doings of the night before?  Of how he’d unequivocally re-staked
his
claim with her
three fucking times
?

She stared at him, her face holding a slight frown that wasn’t just one of confusion.  “Well, I don’t know about you but I’m not planning on becoming a nun until J.R.’s in college.”

“So you’re gonna find yourself a boyfriend?”

Giving him a look that was of the ‘no-duh’ variety, one that found him grinding his teeth together, she shrugged.  “What am I supposed to do?  Sit around, twiddling my thumbs for the next five or so years?”

Questions he couldn’t answer because Bishop knew, fucking
knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt if he opened his mouth, it’d be to start chewing her shapely, rounded ass out.  So he shook his head, more to clear it than to offer a negative response.  But she obviously didn’t understand.