Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2) (34 page)

“She turns back to him,” Tate continued. “Mad as hell, she is. She bends down, picks up the stick and storms out of the pub.”

“We’re mid song, Tate steps up the bass so we don’t miss the drums, but it’s obvious to us all he’s stopped playing. He stands up to go after the lass and his big foot gets tangled up in the high hat.”

“It crashes down one way, Razz crashes down the other and cuts his forehead on his landing but gets up and races after her.”

“We figure he’s gone after his stick,” Ryan said and they all laughed. “None of us had any money, and we were still playing for drinks.”

“Fifteen minutes later he comes back in the pub with the girl wrapped around him like a pashmina, we couldn’t believe it,” Tate said with a smile. “Not that he didn’t deserve to get a lovely girl like her, but that he went after her at all.”

“It was to get his stick back, I’m telling you,” Ryan said again.

“That’s how he met Mary?” Fiona asked.

“No, I don’t remember her name,” Ryan said.

“Feck off, ye gobshite,” Tate said and he and Ryan laughed. “Yes, that’s how he met Mary.”

“Did he ever tell you what he said that did the trick?” Fiona asked. Tate and Ryan smiled at her.

“He said that she’d struck him dumb with her beauty or some such nonsense. It wasn’t what he said, it was that he ran after her, bleeding and limping in the middle of a set,” Tate said. “And the lad was completely taken.”

“He has those lovely eyes, too,” Ryan said.

“And he has those lovely eyes.” Tate winked at her. Tate knew how to tell stories, he found humor in the smallest detail. He had kept her laughing ever since they met.

She pushed what remained of her pint toward Tate, a whole pint was too much for her jet lagged body. Tate drank it down in one long gulp and stood.

“Come back to my mam’s house, the girlies have left. If Mam’s awake, she’d like to meet you,” Tate took her hand and led her to the door with Ryan following. At the door Ryan held back a little and looked at the photo of Billy McBride and the Ballyhoos and then narrowed his eyes at Padrick. Padrick grinned at him and saluted. Ryan shook his head and walked out of the pub and caught up with his friends.

***

“Step into the light, lass. Let me have a look at you,” Maggie Dylan said to Fiona. “I see why my boy’s mad for you.” Fiona blushed and sat down on the chair pulled up next to Maggie’s bed.

Maggie was small boned like Tate and Christie and had the same fine features and blonde hair which had gone to white. Her blue eyes were sunken in her head and looked pained, but Fiona knew she had been as lovely as Christie in her youth. Fiona could only imagine Maggie saw an exhausted, near middle aged woman staring back at her, despite her complimentary words.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dylan. I’m pretty mad for him, too.” Fiona looked at Tate and Maggie nodded.

“Give us a moment, Tate-o,” she said to him. He looked at Fiona to see if she was amenable to the idea. Fiona nodded at him with a smile.

“Don’t frighten the lass off, Mam,” Tate said and kissed Fiona’s head. “I’m partial to her.”

“If she’s still here after the girlies had a go at her, she won’t be scared off by the likes of me.” Maggie waited until Tate closed the door behind him and looked thoroughly at Fiona. “I’ve never interfered with the people my boys chose, and I have regretted that.” She sighed deeply and began to cough deep wracking coughs that brought tears to her eyes and Fiona’s. When she had finished she was still for a while as she recovered, and Fiona thought she might have fallen asleep.

“He’s my favorite child and I’d like to see him married before I go to meet my maker,” Maggie fixed her with a glance. Fiona felt her face flush.

“Um…I understand how you might like that, but Tate and I have only known each other for a few weeks. I can’t promise you anything despite how much I might like to. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, lass, I was really just testing the waters,” Maggie grinned. “He’s mad for you, but how was I to know if you were just after his money?” Maggie squeezed her hand.

“I’m not after his money,” Fiona said quietly.

“I know you’re not. You passed my daft test, stop looking so shocked, I’m his mam, and I love him. Truth be told, he probably
is
my favorite, although I am quite partial to Ryan, he’s got a silver tongue, he has.” She grinned again. “Now off with you, I’m fair knackered. Come by tomorrow, like.”

“I’m going to need to keep on my toes with you, I can see. Sleep well, Maggie Dylan, tomorrow you and I will have a nice long gab.”

“I’d like that,” they squeezed hands. “And Fiona…you say you’ve only known each other for a few short weeks, but you’re standing at his mother’s death bed at his request. So, don’t be fooling yourself.” She nodded meaningfully at her and Fiona stepped out of the room smiling.

Tate had been waiting just outside the room and pulled her into his arms. “Was that more frightening than anything else we’ve been through these past few weeks?” He asked into her hair and she laughed.

“It certainly had its moments.” She pulled back and kissed him.

“Let’s get you fed and to bed, I’m getting too old for this jet lag. It never used to bother me.”

“It didn’t seem to bother you in the least this morning when we showed up,” she said and he grinned wickedly at her.

“You have a way of energizing me, my little lemming. Until you knock me flat, that is.”

He took her back to the townhouse, where they found Tate’s friend Razz and his wife Mary waiting for them in the kitchen. Razz was long and gangly, with absolutely awful posture, but an endearing smile. His eyes were a lovely hazel, as promised, and his hair was short cropped and very red. Mary was a very pretty brunette with a round face and lovely skin. Tate wasn’t at all surprised to find them in his kitchen eating jalapeno stuffed olives, of all things.

They both were very surprised to see Fiona.

“Thought you’d turn up eventually,” Tate said to his friend who rose to meet him, give him a hug and surreptitiously get a good look at Fiona whom he’d heard so much about, but did not expect to find in Tate’s
sanctum sanctorum
. Tate leaned down to kiss Mary’s cheek and turned to Fiona. “Fi, these are Razz and Mary Murphy, my very dear friends. Razz and Mary, may I present Dr. Fiona Brooks?”

“I’m delighted to meet you, Fiona.” Razz held a hand out to her and she shook it and turned to Mary.

“Oh that’s right, you’re pregnant, too!” Fiona said, noticing her baby bump and having forgotten that fact briefly. Razz and Mary looked at Tate sternly. He stepped back and looked at Fiona.

“Is there something you need to tell me, Fi?” She laughed.

“I was talking about Genna, not me. Don’t have a heart attack,” she said and everyone but Tate looked greatly relieved. Tate went to the fridge and looked inside to hide his face from Razz, who knew him maybe too well.

“Looks like Mrs. O’Neill fixed us a little something,” he pulled a huge container of stew out of the fridge and put it on the counter. Mary got up to assist and he shooed her away. “This weighs more than you do.” Mary laughed and swung her belly around.

“Not bloody likely, but you have at it, I’ll put my feet up for a change.”

“Where are the girls?” He asked as he poured the stew into a pot and put it on the stove.

“In your playroom,” Razz said. “I’ll replace whatever they break.” Tate waved him off.

“They’ll be fine,” he said unconcerned. “Drinks?”

Razz went to the fridge and pulled out a beer and offered it to Fiona, she shook her head.

“I’d like some water, I think,” Fiona said and sat down at the table with Mary. Tate brought them both a bottle of water and glasses. “You have a playroom?”

“It’s for the kiddos, they like a place to hang while we talk of boring things,” Tate winked at her. How many people would devote a room in their house to entertain other people’s kids? Tate was truly thoughtful.

“Tate,” Mary said. “How’s your mam?”

“Christ Mary, she looks so small. She used to loom larger than life, now she’s…small. I’m staggered.”

“I’m that sorry for you Tate-o, but it brought you home for Christmas. Razz said you were going to pull a Connor and never come back,” Mary said looking at Fiona with a sly grin.

“Did he call me a wanker in the same sentence?”

“No, but he might have called you a gobshite,” she said and they all laughed. “So Fiona, you’re a doctor?”

“I’m a PhD in music theory and cognition,” she said almost apologetically. Razz whistled.

“Do you play an instrument?” He asked and Tate laughed.

“She’s a fucking genius, mate.” Tate said.

“What’s she doing with you then?” Razz responded quickly.

“Like I just said! She’s a fucking genius,” Tate kissed her hand.

“I play piano mostly,” Fiona said just to stop their banter and Razz grinned at her.

“Percussion! That’s my thing,” he said and Mary squeezed his hand.

Fiona’s phone buzzed and she looked at the display.

“Oh, it’s my brother, excuse me, I have to take this,” she looked apologetically at everyone.

“Go and answer it, love,” Tate took her hand and led her into a room near the kitchen and sat her down at the desk there.

“Liam,” she said.

“Fifi, we got them. We blew the whole American side of the organization open,” he yelled excitedly.

“That’s great news, so Tate and I don’t have to go into witness protection or anything?”

“No, your involvement ended before you left. You won’t be needed to testify at all.”

She had worried about that more than she wanted to let on. “Thank you, Liam. Does Tess know?”

“Yeah, she’s good, they all left for home about an hour after you did. Your Tate deserves a medal, but you can come home now,” he said.

“Oh. I think I’ll stay a few more days, actually. Oh, and I saw a picture of Dad in a pub here from his glory days, he was so young,” she said with a laugh. “I took a picture of it, I’ll send it to you.”

“That’s so cool, I’ll tell him next time we talk. Keep in touch, Fi. I love you,” he said and hung up.

She took a deep breath and looked around the room for the first time. There were candid photos of the lads all over the room, a Grungies fan would give anything to sit where she was sitting. Some of them were really good, she especially liked the ones in black and white. One in particular caught Tate in a serious mood, he was looking off at something, biting his lower lip. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She stood and saw there was another Grammy award on a shelf in this room, too.
How many had they won
?

“Is everything all right?” She turned at the sound of his voice and smiled at him like he hung the moon.

“Everything’s wonderful, Liam says they got them, you deserve a medal, and it’s safe to go home,” she said and saw the flash of pain cross his face.

“Good,” he managed to say. “Great.” She stepped toward him and kissed him softly.

“But I’d like to stay a little longer, if I may?” She said quietly and watched as he lost his rigid posture.

“Yes, Fi. You can stay as long as you like,” he resumed kissing her. “In fact, I don’t really want you to leave.”

“Well, I’m going to have to leave to be back in time for a few concerts I am expected to play right after Christmas. I need to go back, Tate.”

“I’ll go with you, then.”

“You need to be here for your mom. We can discuss this later,” she gestured toward the kitchen. “But tell me who took this picture, I love it.” He chuckled.

“Christie took that. Hell, she took most of these. I was looking at her boys, feeling a sudden urge to procreate,” he looked at her.

“You’re really gorgeous, Tate,” she said seriously and he grinned at her.

“Then you must keep this snap and every time you think I’m a wanker…”

“Or a gobshite,” she interrupted.

“Or a gobshite,” he agreed. “You look at the snap and say ‘Yes he’s a right gobshite, but he’s so gorgeous I’ll put up with his shenanigans a wee bit longer.’” They laughed at his high pitched imitation of Fiona’s voice.

“I’m not Irish,” she said.

“Sure you are,” he said and they walked back out to the kitchen where Razz and Mary had their heads together. They pulled apart guiltily when they noticed Tate and Fiona had entered the room.

Tate ladled out the stew and Razz went to find his four girls.

***

“Connor, I’ve got to talk to you, mate. Call us back as soon as you get this message. Day or night,” Ryan said into Connor’s voice mail.

***

“Wake up you beautiful creature, I want to show you our fair city,” Tate said leaning over her like a vulture.

“I’ve already seen the pub,” she said and rolled away. He laughed.

“Very funny, Fi.” He tried to tickle her, but got no reaction. “What! Are you not ticklish?”

“My sister Kathleen used to tickle me as punishment for being born, so I taught myself not to react. She got bored with me and left me alone.”

“When do I get to meet this Kathleen?” There was a little bit of a threat in his voice and she was touched that he wanted to defend her.

“I haven’t seen her in a while, so you get a reprieve, but she was just an angry kid. I don’t blame her. I don’t go out of my way to spend time with her, either.”

“But you do for Liam.”

“I do for Liam. He’s been my champion since the very first day I moved in with Jeanine and my father.”

“Was it horrible?”

“Yes. Mostly because I knew my mum was gone forever and Jeanine was outraged. She didn’t know about me at all until Billy brought me home that day.” Fiona remembered Jeanine’s shrill voice asking “Just who the hell is this?” Again and again, and Billy not even answering. Liam took her hand and told his father he’d show her around. He tucked her into his bed and slept on the floor next to her until they figured out where to put her. It wasn’t quite “the cupboard under the stairs”, but it wasn’t much better, until she began to play the piano and the money started pouring in.

Jeanine’s behavior toward her set the tone for Kathleen. She knew she wouldn’t get in trouble being mean to Fiona so she let it rip. It was unpleasant, but it could have been much worse, they never hurt her physically. Who knew what kind of life she would have had at all if it weren’t for Liam?