|Lost in Her Eyes by D.L. Uhlrich|
Harper is once again a single woman and plans to stay that way. However, her best friend, Darry is determined to end her solitude with the help of Bishop Makris. But can Bishop help Harper learn to trust again? (F/M)
Looking down, I feel like a fool for what I’m about to say, “Bishop, I’m flattered, but there’s just no room in my life for dating.” His description of our date sounds wonderful. All except the red-assed baboons and finding out we’re related. I’m sure I could warm to the idea of our lips being fused together though.
“Okay. I’ll let you think about it some more, but you have to dance with me.”
“Are you persistent or what? I see why you’re such a good attorney. You just want me to agree to something.”
Bishop fixes those smoldering blue eyes on me and says, “I just want to hear you say ‘Yes.’”
Darry picks that precise moment to appear and inform me that it’s past time for me to dance. He yanks me away as I look back and mouth toward Bishop, “I’m sorry.” He mouths back, “It’s okay.” I set my glass down at a table as we make our way to the dance floor. Three dances later when a slow song begins, I turn around to go back to the table when an arm wraps around my waist.
Smiling down at me, Bishop says, “May I have this dance?”
I smile back and say, “Of course,” and allow Bishop to pull me close, wrapping me in his warm embrace. Just because I dance with Bishop doesn’t mean I need to date him, repeats in my head like a skipping record.
I wind my arms around his neck and we begin to move to the music. He moves his hand up to the nape of my neck to place my head on his chest. We sway slowly, so in sync with each other that I close my eyes and sigh. He whispers in my ear, “You smell so good.” Just because he tells me I smell good doesn’t mean I need to date him. Maybe I need to change that scratched up record.
As the music begins to fade he places a light kiss on my temple. Slowly, reluctantly, we pull away from each other. He raises my hand to his lips and kisses it. Then he rubs my hand gently against his cheek and whispers, “Thank you.”
At that point the pulsing beat of a new song starts and I’m asked to dance by someone else. Bishop releases my hand and walks back to his table. I try in desperation to follow him with my eyes, but the guy I’m dancing with is like a brick wall. He tells me his name, but everything he says is just additional noise in my ears. We finish the dance and I go back to an empty table. As soon as I sit down, a waiter brings me a drink. I look up to tell him I hadn’t ordered anything when he says it’s compliments of the gentleman across the room. I look in the direction he’s referring to and see Bishop smiling and raising his glass. I raise mine and smile.