Page 38 of Branded By Bishop

"I was wrong about my parents, songbird. I always thought my pops settled for the pieces of my mom he could get, but that wasn't true. His dream was watching my mom chase hers." I swallow hard. "Mine is being the man who protects you while you chase yours."

"Bishop," she says, choking on my name.

"You can't turn down that deal for me. I won't let you do it, songbird. Any man willing to let you give up your dreams for him isn't worthy of you. I intend to be a man worthy of you."

She's sobbing openly now, tears pouring down her face. And God, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Those eyes were meant to break hearts and build kingdoms.

"I love you, Callie. Not in spite of your dreams. I love you, and every little thing that's part of you, dreams included." I pull her into my arms, burying her face in my chest. "So you're taking that deal, baby. We're going to Los Angeles or London or New York or wherever your dreams take you. That's non-negotiable to me because loving you the right way is non-negotiable to me."

She clings to me, sobbing like I'm breaking her heart. But I know I'm not. I think I did that days ago, when I made her think that there was ever a choice she had to make. There wasn't. Christ, there was never, not for a second, a choice she had to make between me and music.

There was never really a choice for me to make, either. It was made the minute I kissed her the first time. From that second, the die was cast, the course was set, and my goddamn heart was hers, even battered piece of it.

"I'll follow you anywhere, songbird. For as long as you'll let me," I whisper, scooping her up into my arms. She burrows into me, her body shaking as I carry her down the hall to my room.

When I try to lay her on the bed, I have to pry her hands from my shirt. She doesn't want to let me go. But I kiss each knuckle and then press them to the bed before yanking my shirt off, kicking my boots free, and climbing in beside her.

Within seconds, she's plastered to me, her tears soaking my chest. I run my hands through her hair, waiting for the storm to pass. It does little by little. Her sobs quiet. Her tears dry. Her body stops shaking. Eventually, she's just clinging to me, her body soft.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too," she whispers back, her voice thick.

"You're taking that deal." I pause. "If it's good enough for you." She won't be taking a deal that isn't good enough for her, not when she's as talented as she is. No one else gets to take advantage of her. I'll stand between her and the entire fucking world if I have to do it.

"You really want to go with me?" she asks, hope quivering in her voice.

I tip her head back until her red-rimmed eyes meet mine. "You aren't leaving without me, baby. Who else is going to make sure you keep your door locked and don't trust everyone you meet?"

Her bottom lip quivers again. "I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it. That's the difference, Callie. You'll never have to do it because it's my job to make sure nothing ever hurts you."

"I was really scared tonight," she whispers.

"I know you were," I murmur regretfully. "Had I known he was going to show up, I would have told you before you took the stage that I'll be leaving when you do. I already told Walker."

"What?" she gasps, sitting up with wide eyes. "You told your boss that you're leaving?"

"He's not my boss, but yeah. They know I'm following you."

"Will you regret it?"

"Hey." I sit up with her, pulling her into my lap. "The only thing I'd regret is letting you walk out of my life. I know what I want. It's you. It's this. It's us. Whether that's here or a thousand miles from here doesn't matter to me. At the end of the day, so long as you're in my bed, I'm happy, baby."

"I could die happy with just you," she whispers. And I think maybe she means it. Or she wants to mean it. But I saw her on that stage tonight. I've seen her practicing. She was meant for music. That feeling doesn't just go away, no matter how much you try to stifle it. I won't do that to her.

"You have me, songbird. You'll have your dreams, too. That's the only outcome I can live with."

"I love you," she whispers.

I simply hold her to me for a long moment, trying to wrap my mind around how I got so fucking lucky. Seriously. How the fuck did a cowboy who stared at a billboard and wondered what if get this fucking lucky? It defies logic.

"We need to talk about something else," I say after a moment.

She tenses, meeting my gaze like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Cody came to see me today."