He’d half expected to be dropped off at the nearby mall—or basically anywhere his brothers weren’t currently homesteading—so he was taken off guard when Andie pulled into a private drive leading up to the largest house he’d seen. In person, anyway. Raina’s parents owned a similarly-sized mansion in Sarasota that they used for their winter residence, but he’d never actually been invited to visit.
Maybe that should have been your first clue it wasn’t destined to work out, mate.
He snuffed any further musings along that line before they could take root. “So, this is Millie’s house? She lives here alone?” The entire village he grew up in back in Ireland could fit in the enormous stone dwelling in front of him.
“Yep. And Carl too.”
Ah, yes. The famous Carl who desperately wanted to shag his brothers. Obviously the parrot wasn’t too discerning. He’d try not to hold it against the bird.
Andie parked her Fiesta to the left of the terraced steps leading up to the mansion’s entrance. Without removing her seatbelt, she turned and faced him. “I should warn you that Mills can be a tad…much. The likelihood of her injuries toning that down is pretty much slim to none.”
“Andie, I’ve run into my fair share of colorful people during my days at the Pierre Du Pre. Think I can handle your girlfriend no problem.”
“Oh, you sweet summer child.” Shaking her head, she freed her seatbelt strap. He followed suit, and a minute or so later, waited behind her while she rang the bell. As the seconds ticked by, he availed himself the opportunity to check out his surroundings.
The mansion favored the Tuscan villa style, and the potted boxwood topiaries and rustic statuary decorating the alcove they stood in only added to its masterfully achieved old world charm. If he did one day manage to open a B&B, he’d have a similar inviting focal point to greet the guests. Maybe a small courtyard where they could enjoy afternoon tea and his freshly made soda bread and scones. If there weren’t already rose bushes in place, he’d plant some hearty shrub varieties for fragrance and a splash of color.
“It’s unlocked!”
The shout on the opposite side of the wall snapped him out of his pipe dream. Andie cracked open the massive front door. “I have company with me. Are you decent?”
“On a scale of one to ten, probably a solid three. Pretty sure that’s why those two Jehovah Witnesses stopped calling. Anything less than a four means you’re a lost cause.”
“Mills, I was referring to whether or not you’re dressed.”
“Oh. Yeah. Come on in.”
Andie pushed the door open fully. An attractive blonde sat in a wheelchair, a parrot perched on her shoulder. She made an incredibly odd sight. Not necessarily because of the bird. He’d already prepared himself for that. It wasn’t even entirely due to the eyepatch, either—though he definitely hadn’t been expecting that. What really threw him was her choice of apparel. He couldn’t make head or tail of it. From the look of the garment, it seemed to be some kind of furry blue onesie, only the right leg had been chopped off at the outfit’s knee, evidently to make it easier to get the material over her bandaged ankle.
A distressed sound fell from Andie. “You didn’t mention anything about a wheelchair!”
“At first I was just gonna go with crutches, but this way I can pop wheelies.” Millie attempted to execute one but thankfully gave up after the third failed try. That’s when she turned her undivided attention on him and double-blinked. “Wowzers. You’re way hotter than my usual UPS dude.”
“Mills, this is Bishop.”
She swerved her one-eyed gaze to Andie. “You know my UPS guy?”
“He’s Sawyer’s and Knox’s brother.”
“I didn’t know he was my UPS guy. Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?”
“He’s not your UPS guy!” Andie rubbed her temples. “Were you not paying attention when I mentioned I had company with me?”
“Well excuse the fuck outta me. I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Millie wheeled forward and stuck out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Not gonna lie, though. Was really hoping you were my UPS dude. I’m expecting an important shipment from Pornucopia.”
Andie groaned. “You did not order more porn. For God’s sake, it’s what got you in this predicament to begin with!”
“Wrong. It was Helga presumptuously pitching Edward Penishands and his buddies. My porn is as much an innocent victim in all of this as me.”
Andie shot him a look he easily deciphered as I tried to warn you. After clearing her throat, she returned her gaze to her friend. “Speaking of Helga—you might want to start looking for a new housekeeper before she gets the word out to her colleagues to stay far away from this address.”
“But if I do that she won’t ever come back.”
Andie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Helga isn’t coming back. Ever. Watching you dumpster dive for porn was the last straw. Trust me on this. Just hire a new freakin’ housekeeper.”
“But—“
“Do. It.”
“Fine. It’s going to be hard finding an intimidating German maid who’s willing to brass knuckle door-to-door salesmen and can also vacuum perfect lines in the carpet.” Muttering under her breath, Millie spun her wheelchair around and started across the expansive marbled entry. They trailed after her and stepped into a spacious, well-equipped kitchen. The JennAire grille situated in the massive island was enough to make him drool. Add in the pizza oven, the copper La Pavoni expresso machine, and what appeared to be the entire contents of a Williams Sonoma store, and he was officially in Seventh Heaven. He’d never be able to afford a setup like this for his fantasy B&B, but damn, it was fun to pretend he’d hit the lottery one day and make it a reality.
“Would either of you like a drink? Sparkling water? Lemonade? A margarita?”
“It’s only ten,” Andie pointed out.
“Oh, right. Mimosas it is.” Millie wheeled to the state-of-the-art fridge and tugged open the door—which promptly banged into the side of her chair. She backed up and tried again.
His stomach cramping over the number of dents she was surely subjecting the stainless-steel to, he crossed to her side. “Let me give you a hand.”
“Thanks, Lucky Charms. You’re a life saver. Not the candy,” she amended, as if he might have misinterpreted which type she meant.
He stooped slightly to grab the jug of OJ from the middle shelf and something sharp poked his arm. He jerked his head around just as the parrot climbed onto his shoulder. They stared at each other, neither of them blinking. He was terrified to move on the off chance the bird took it as a signal to peck his eyes out. “Uhhhhh...what’s happening?”
“Accck. Lick my balls. Acccckkkk!”
“Carl, you haven’t made it past first base. Treat him to surf ‘n turf before moving into teabagging territory. Jesus Christ.” Millie held out her arm. “Come here.”
The bird didn’t budge. Instead, it nuzzled his ear with its beak. Sweat beaded his brow. “Does he, um, bite?”
“Only if you ask nicely. Or say stuff like Bite me, Peckerhead. He takes things pretty literally.”
Andie saved the day—and potentially him of an ear piercing—by showing up next to them with a long wooden dowel. Carl immediately stepped onto it and Andie carried the bird to a large perch near the Palladian windows.
Feeling like he’d narrowly missed being the star of one of those When Animals Attack videos, he shuddered and snatched the orange juice, along with the opened bottle of Taittinger he spied on the bottom shelf. He carried both items to the island. “Glasses?”
Millie waved in the general direction of the adjacent cupboards and he went on an exploratory mission, scrounging up three cut-crystal flutes. Normally he wasn’t big on mimosas, but after that close call he was damn well partaking. While he made good use of his bartending skills, he blatantly eavesdropped on Andie and her friend. Not like he could help it, being right there in the room with them.
“At least you didn’t break any bones, I guess. You were extremely lucky. Please let that be the last dumpster you jump into.”
“Can’t promise for sure, but I’ll try. On the bright side, I got to feel up Frank. Only his man boob, mind you. Still pretty exciting.”
“Oh Lord. Who is Frank?”
“The crew leader. You know—the one with the barbed wire tat and gold tooth. Turns out he’s seen Cats fifteen times. On stage. Not that freakshow of a movie. I might invite him to Die Hard Six: Die Harder Than You’ve Died In Your Life, Motherfucker on opening night. Assuming they can wrap up construction by fall. And, ya know, whether or not I’ll require a leg amputation.”
“You sprained an ankle. Pretty sure that won’t require an amputation.”
“Huh. Didn’t realize you’re now a doctor. While I appreciate your unqualified advice, I prefer to get my medical diagnoses from Web MD and Facebook.”
“It’s beyond me how you’re still alive.”
“Lucky Charms, how’re the drinks coming?”
Giving his head a small shake of bemusement, he grabbed the flutes and made his way to the far end of the island. “Ladies.” He passed the two glasses over, reserving the last one for himself. Millie took a sip and swirled the flute stem between her fingers, her one eye locking with his. Slightly unsettled by the unblinking concentration of her stare, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did that happen during your accident?”
“Hm?”
“Your eye.”
“What?”
“The patch.”
She appeared genuinely confused for a long moment before finally breaking her stare with a blink. “Oh, that. Totally forgot I had it on.” She slid the patch up onto her forehead, revealing an identical pretty blue eye to match its mate.
She was hands down the strangest individual he’d met in his life. It should have convinced him to back slowly out of the kitchen and wait outside until Andie was done with her visit. Instead, he claimed the tall barstool next to her. If nothing else, Millie Jones had managed to momentarily distract him from the unending gloominess that’d become his existence. He’d take whatever reprieve he could get.
Not to mention, hanging out in this dream kitchen was infinitely preferable to duking it out with his brothers all day.
“Does your mom know what happened?”
Millie made a face. “Yes, only because Doc Lagina ratted me out.” Her lips twitched. “Lagina. Hehheheh. Still fucking hilarious. Anyway, it completely ruined the story I came up with for how I ended up in the bottom of a dumpster. Initially I was going to tell Lucinda I’d been sleepwalking. But then I realized it’d be way more believable if a family of raccoons broke in and carried me into the dumpster while I was sleeping.”
“Raccoons? Really?” Andie dropped her chin and groaned into her cleavage. “You honestly thought she’d fall for that?”
“Hello? Raccoons love dumpsters. They’re called Trash Pandas for a reason.” Millie rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I even have to explain this to you.”
The front doorbell suddenly chimed. Millie dug around in the pocket of her fur onesie and pulled out a smartphone. She tapped the screen and grimaced. “Unfucking believable. The woman is like Beetlejuice. Only you don’t even have to say her name three times for her to appear.” Millie held the phone up to her mouth. “Door’s unlocked. We’re in the kitchen.” With that out of the way, she tucked the device back into her pocket and repositioned her patch. “I’m gonna tell her the raccoons scooped out my eyeball to sell on the organ black market.”
“Mills.”
“God, you’re such a fucking killjoy.” Grumbling, Millie yanked the patch off and shoved that into her pocket too.
The approaching squish of sneaker soles on the tile preceded the arrival of a stunning, statuesque blonde woman in a sporty pink track set. She hauled up short the second she spotted him. “Oh. Hello.”
It took him an embarrassing amount of time to find his tongue. “You’re...” Sweet Mother Mary. “You’re Lucy Liberty.”
A dazzling smile slipping across her astonishingly legendary face, she stepped forward. “In my off time I’m known as Lucinda Palmer.”
Caving to a sheepish chuckle, he pushed to his feet and shook her hand. “It’s a huge honor to meet you. Had no idea you’re Millie’s mum.”
“And I had no idea Millicent is acquainted with such a charming, handsome man.”
Millie growled. “Mom, don’t get any ideas about Bishop.”
“Well, you were so against Tristram. I thought—“
“No.” Millie anted up a squint. “That doesn’t mean Tris is back on the roster. So don’t get any ideas about that either.”
Lucinda gave a dismissive wave before leaning down to hug Andie. “You look positively radiant, dear. Are you pregnant?”
“Mom!”
“What? It’s a perfectly valid question. Seeing how you’re selfishly unwilling to provide me grandchildren to spoil, I’ll have to live vicariously through Andie.”
“Ugh. Poor Lou and the shit she’ll have to put up with when she’s old enough to procreate.”
Her cheeks pink, Andie smoothed her hair. “No bun in the oven. The plan is to wait a year or two before we consider adding to the family.”
In the meantime, his horny siblings were diligently getting in all the baby-making practice they could. He kept that grumpy thought to himself while Andie continued the proper introduction for Lucinda. The woman’s engaging smile reappeared. “I figured your delightful accent couldn’t be a coincidence. At long last I can say I’ve met one of the Sullivan brothers.”
Sawyer and Knox were going to be majorly sore about him scoring the unexpected meet and greet with Lucinda before them. Might have to rub it in later. Remembering his manners, he held up his untouched cocktail. “Would you care for a mimosa?”
“Much as I’d love to, I’ll have to pass. I have an eleven o’clock spin class.”
“Oh, bummer. Guess you better hit the road then. Thanks for stopping by.” Millie pushed up from the wheelchair and hopped on one leg to her mum.
Now that he could take in the whole of her getup it only came across as more bizarre. He spied the hoodie part as she banded her arms around Lucinda and he frowned at the giant googly eyes spinning amongst the blue fur. Ah, it was a Cookie Monster costume.
Still made zero sense.
“I don’t have to leave just yet.” Lucinda patted the top of her daughter’s head, evidently unaware of the face Millie made at her pronouncement. “Now where is Carl? I haven’t gotten my smooch.”
“He’s in timeout. No kisses for that asshole.”
“Oh phooey.” Ignoring Millie’s grumble as she hopped back to her chair and plopped down, her mom crossed to the perch. Carl noisily flapped his wings and leaned forward.
Apparently the bird was a raging flirt. Resigning himself to no surf ‘n turf courtship in his future, Bishop grunted and took a sip of his mimosa.
“Carl, I want you to be a good boy when Ellen’s here. She’s a little uneasy around birds.”
Millie whipped her head sideways to stare at her mum. “What are you talking about?”
“Evidently the poor thing had an altercation with a goose a few years back.”
“No, I mean why would your assistant be coming to my house?”
“She’s going to be taking care of things around here while you recover from your injury.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Millicent, you barely manage your life when you’re fully functional. How do you suppose you’ll fare hobbling around like you are? Ellen is excellent at what she does. I wouldn’t have employed her all these years if that wasn’t the case. She’ll find you a new housekeeper and a cook—“ Lucinda held up a hand when Millie made a dissenting noise. “It’s past time you have one. It’ll save you ordering out all the time.”
“But...Ellen is your PA. You need her.”
“We have it arranged. Her sister has generously agreed to cover for her in the interim.”
“She’s not coming to work here!”
“It’s settled. You’ll just have to deal with it, my dear.”
Millie swiveled her focus to Andie, revealing the supreme panic on her face. “Do something,” she whispered. Andie merely shrugged, earning her friend’s groan. Millie skipped her gaze to him and blinked. Then blinked again. “No, she can’t be my assistant...because...”
Something about the way she was intently staring at him triggered a heightened niggle of concern. And that was before the next words that blurted from her mouth.
“Bishop is my assistant.”
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