The video began in silence, focused on Sophie in bed as she slept. After several seconds, the brisk strumming of guitar became the soundtrack as she woke and stretched, her Rogue tee shirt pulling away from the bare skin of her four months’ pregnant belly bump. She fell effortlessly into singing, a sultry, sleepy look on her face as she performed for Gavin’s benefit. The video segued into a clip Sophie had taken from above as Gavin knelt before her, serenading the baby in her belly. Another shot showed Gavin on the deck overlooking the sea, singing dramatically as Sophie moved around him in a circle, before he fell into a wide smile and laughter. He had also caught her in the kitchen, wearing a short robe and a towel wrapped around her wet hair while making breakfast. She had been mouthing a few of the lyrics but when she saw him watching her, she camped it up, using a spatula as a microphone. The part that gave fans the biggest thrill was when Sophie snuck up on Gavin while he was in the shower. The glass door was steamy, so she pulled it open to reveal her husband, naked and wet with trails of soapy water running over his muscular chest. These scenes spliced together made for an addicting video.
When Sophie pointed out to Gavin that he had posted the video as “public,” he promised to correct the setting but somehow never did. In a matter of days, the video had almost a hundred million views and was a viral sensation.
The song only got bigger when Rogue licensed it to be used in a Chris Pratt romantic comedy. The movie was a blockbuster and furthered the excitement and success of the band’s tour.
It was now also the song du jour as the busker tried his best to embody the energy Gavin had put into it. But Gavin’s signature style wasn’t easy to emulate. With innate magnetism and an unique aura, he was a larger-than-life performer.
Sophie again felt eyes on her as she watched the performance, and she was the first to applaud when it ended.
“What would yer man say about that?” the musician asked with a wink, clearly satisfied with himself.
Sophie tossed a bill and some change into his open guitar case. Gavin would have likely tried to take over singing had he been there. He was never content to sit on the sidelines when he could be the center of attention. He was also possessive of her and would want to make it clear to all that she was his. As if anyone had any doubts about that after all these years of being in the spotlight as the couple that the whole world watched obsessively. The video had only stoked that interest.
“He’d love it,” she said graciously.
“I’m Jimmy O’Leary. Play here anytime the market is open. Don’t be shy in telling him that. Maybe the lads need an opening act.”
The crowd laughed at his audacity and Sophie gave him a winning smile. “I’ll do that Jimmy. You have a good day.”
“It’s already tops!” he called after her as she moved away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The intercom went unanswered despite several tries, so Shay used his cell phone to call Gavin directly.
When the line was picked up, he could hear a mix of loud music, heavy footfalls, and labored breathing.
“Hang on,” Gavin shouted.
Alabama Shakes. That was what Gavin was blasting as he did his treadmill sprints. Shay could hear the machine wind down as Gavin lowered the speed, then the music became barely audible.
“What’s up, man?” Gavin asked, returning to the line.
“Tried the intercom at the gate, but—”
“Fuck’s sake, just punch in the code. You don’t need to be so polite, do you?”
“Got it.”
Shay entered the code and the large iron gate slowly swung open. Driving up the path to the house, Shay lowered his window to better inhale the briny tang of the sea. The water was so close, he could almost touch it. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining here in Dalkey, the enclave known as the Irish “Bay of Naples” for its scenic and lavish homes built into the hillside overlooking the sea. It made him wonder why Gavin wasn’t running outside.
Wearing shorts, running shoes, and shirtless, Gavin was waiting at the open door of the house. It was a beautifully remodeled home, with high ceilings, open floor plan, and spectacular views of the sea. It fit perfectly alongside the other wealthy and famous homeowners of the area.
“Seamus,” Gavin said as he gestured for him to enter.
Shay peeled off his flight jacket as he made his way to the living room. It was almost sixty degrees out and he was too warm. Gavin had his own reasons for feeling the same way as he wiped his forehead with a small white towel. He dragged the cloth over the smooth skin of his chest next. Gavin had always projected slow burning sensuality, despite a slight build and no conscious style. In the past year, he’d put on weight in the form of sculpted, lean muscles and began dressing in clothes that conformed to his athletic physique. Gavin had enjoyed playing up his new look on the tour, performing shirtless at the slightest encouragement from their audiences.
“Nice wheels,” Gavin said with a nod of his head to the front of the house where Shay had parked the Porsche.
“Yeah.”
“How fast have you gone in it?”
“Ah, you know it’s hard to find a patch to get up any decent speed,” Shay said. He helped himself to a seat on the ‘L’ shaped sofa and welcomed the breeze coming in from the open deck doors.
“Well?”
“Just over 150 km. Nothing like the old days.”
Gavin laughed but Shay saw him look furtively at the phone in his hand.
“I’m keeping you. I shouldn’t have dropped by.” He got up and grabbed his jacket.
“No, sit. I’m only on edge because Sophie’s out on her own.”
Now it made sense. Gavin had been running inside on the treadmill on this amazing day of good weather so that he could be close to his phone in case she called. Being an expectant father had turned Gavin into a cautious person. It was an interesting change of events given how recently he had lived a much more reckless lifestyle.
“Where is she, then?”
“Farmers market in town. Meeting Felicity and Celia, so she should be fine.”
“But.”
Gavin nodded. “But,” he repeated, affirming his need to worry. “What’s with you?”
“Same thing as has been for the last six months.”
“Danny Boy? Thought he was well?”
“Thing is, I sort of wanted your take on that. What with you and him being friendly on tour these past months.”
Taking a deep breath, Gavin sat on the edge of the sofa and Shay followed suit. “You know your brother, Seamus. What can I tell you?”
He was right, of course. Shay knew Danny Boy inside and out. Knew when he was using and when he was clean. Knew the ways he manipulated in order to get his next fix or just for the fun of it. So, what was he doing here asking for Gavin’s thoughts on the matter? Yet another way to avoid going home to see Danny Boy? He’d driven straight from the Cliffs of Moher to Gavin’s house without much premeditation. It had simply seemed like the thing to do given what had sent him off into the night just the day before.
“Unless you’re after an addict’s take on an addict?” Gavin said with an amused smile.
Now that Gavin said it, Shay realized that probably was what had drawn him here. Gavin had had a brief but intense love affair with cocaine. It had been his escape from the so-called scandal with his mother, and it led him down a path of nearly losing both his wife and his band. But he’d come out of it, replacing the drug with punishing exercise routines. He’d made no secret of the fact that he believed conjuring a good sweat served as a necessary release for the issues that still plagued him.
“Well, now you mention it . . . .”
Gavin shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I can’t say that he and I are on the same level with that shite. He’s been hardcore for, what? Fifteen years?”
“On and off.”
“I guess the bigger question is, what’s he done?”
“Hmm?”
“Fuck off with that
. You’re not here without something having happened.”
Shay sat up straighter and knew this was the true reason he had come to see his recovering addict friend. He needed to get Gavin’s take on how to handle this before he came clean with the real victim.
“Fucker stole Conor’s guitar. And not just any guitar. The Telecaster. Doctored up some paperwork to say he’d been given it and was the rightful owner. Then tried to sell it for thousands.”
Gavin was silent for a moment. Then he surprised Shay by laughing. “He’s got a pair on him, that’s for sure!”
“Ah, Gav. This isn’t just some scarlet for ya. This fucks things a thousand ways. I asked all of yous to trust him, to trust me, by bringing him on tour so I could keep watch on him. And we get to the end of a good patch now only for him to pull this rubbish.”
“I suppose it could have been worse.”
“I don’t think Conor will think this way. You know he was against it. And I’ll thank you again for convincing him to go along with it. I know you did,” Shay said before Gavin could deny it. “And he’ll have every right to throw a fit.”
“So, let him.”
“What?”
“Let him have his reaction and then that’s that.”
Shay rolled his eyes. “No. That would work if it were you. I don’t have the benefit of being his best friend for twenty-five years like you. You know in his mind this con job Danny Boy tried to run will mess with the image of the band.”
Conor had always been the one most concerned about the band’s image and legacy. He, more than any of them, had kept an eye on the continuity of their “brand,” working closely with their manager to ensure that day-to-day media mentions as well as the long-view of the band was carefully maintained. It was a time-consuming process as over the years both Gavin and Sophie’s love story, and Conor’s own history of paparazzi-friendly dating choices had pulled attention away from the music. The band’s talent and dedication to their craft were just strong enough to edge out the juicy tabloid stories, however, and they managed to keep their status as one of the most widely respected groups in the industry.
“How is this even a thing for anyone else to know?” Gavin asked.
“The idio tried to run his play on some guy whose brother-in-law happens to work at NME.”
The music magazine NME had long had an irrational disdain for Rogue. This story would play into their hands as a way to spotlight a new scandal just when the band had hit its stride again.
“Danny fucking Boy,” Gavin said with a rueful smile.
“Aye. He knows how to fuck up in monumental ways.”
“You got into it with him?”
“Big row yesterday. I could’ve killed him. And of course he tries to be cute and clever to weasel his way out of it. But I’m the one that has to fix it.”
And fuck, he was tired. So tired of trying to clean up his brother’s messes. Tired of worrying about him. Tired of not having any sustained life of his own. He slumped back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes.
“Seamus,” Gavin said. He waited until Shay looked at him. “A wise man once told me I worry too much, that I should just let it all out of my grip. Because it wasn’t really mine to hold onto anyway.”
Shay studied his friend for a moment. He understood the point but wasn’t ready to accept it. And wasn’t it the height of irony for Gavin, of all people, to be doling out this advice?
“And how the fuck did that work for you?” Shay asked flatly.
Gavin let out a loud laugh. “I’ll let you know once I’ve actually given it a go!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
It wasn’t hard to find Sophie in the crowd at the Farmers Market. All Felicity McAllister had to do was home in on where the buzz of interest was coming from. Sure enough, it was clear that “someone” was commanding a good amount of barely concealed whispering and staring.
Sophie had her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail, wore mirrored sunglasses, and was dressed in a clingy tank top and skirt that made her look like she was about to pop. Still, she was a stunner. Felicity had met Sophie when they were in high school together while Sophie lived in Ireland for a year. Back then, Sophie turned all the boys’ heads, but no one knew she’d go on to become one of the most sought-after models in the world. As Felicity approached her, she could see Sophie try to hide a twitch of discomfort as she rubbed her lower back. This baby was sure to make an appearance soon.
“There she is,” Felicity said.
Sophie turned and the two women embraced. “Hey, I’m glad to see you. You’re my buffer for when Celia gets here and starts in on being the perfect mother and all-knowing advice-giver on pregnancy.
Felicity laughed. “She has done this three times.”
“I know. I do appreciate her help. But it’s just . . . a lot,” Sophie said with a sigh,
It was obvious Sophie was feeling overwhelmed and Felicity couldn’t blame her. Gavin and the boys had only just returned from tour a few days ago. For the last two months, Sophie hadn’t been able to travel with the band, so Celia had taken it upon herself to be a near constant presence as a way to fill the void.
“Well, you’re bound to be almost through with the pregnancy bit at any rate.” Felicity hooked her arm through Sophie’s and they began to slowly walk .
“I’m sorry to take you away from Conor.”
This visit to the Farmers Market along with lunch planned afterward did interrupt her time with Conor, her boyfriend of the last seven months, but she didn’t mind, especially given the fact that her body was still tingling and tender in all the right ways from their reunion. Stepping away from him gave her time to think about what had been bothering her.
“Nah, it’s fine. In fact, I thought maybe I could ask your advice if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I’d love it. Talk to me about something other than pregnancy and babies, please!” Sophie said with a weary laugh. “What is it?”
“Conor. Thing is, he’s come home . . . distant in a way. No, not distant, but distracted somehow. I don’t know. It makes me wonder what might have gone on when he was away.”
“What do you mean? Like he cheated on you?”
“To be honest, yeah.”
“You think that because he’s been distracted? Isn’t that a bit of a leap?”
“The thing is, I don’t want to go back to the way I was in my marriage with Richard, where I just ignored things to the point that I became someone else. I need to really see what’s happening. And isn’t it an obvious assumption that Conor might have been tempted on the road? I saw at the start of the tour what it’s like. I know how many girls are after him and how easily he could just—”
“It would be really easy, that’s true,” Sophie said. “But that’s not what he’s about. He loves you, Fee.”
Felicity laughed at Sophie’s teasing use of Conor’s nickname for her. “I know he does. I really do. But I really need to know what I’m dealing with. It just doesn’t feel the same between us and there has to be a reason.”
“I can tell you that Gavin would never allow Conor to do something as stupid as cheat on you. He’s protective of you, you know?”
Felicity smiled. Gavin had a huge number of friends but he treated every one of them as if they were the center of his world.
“So, maybe just talk to him?” Sophie suggested gently.
“Yes, I know that’s the logical thing to do. But how do you think he would take me asking if he’s been with other women if he’s innocent?”
“He is innocent.”
She knew that. Deep down she knew that Conor Quinn had changed and matured from the emotionally stunted playboy he had been. But after having spent several weeks with Rogue at the start of their tour and seeing the aggressive and graphic way women propositioned her boyfriend, uncharacteristic insecurity had begun to bloom.
Once she was back in Dublin to work on the media for the band and he continued on the tour, they connected mostly with flirt
y video chats and the odd quick visit. Then he returned for this break in the tour, and the focus was all on their physical reunion. When not in bed, his distraction was obvious and disconcerting. They seemed to have lost their naturalness, and she found herself attributing it to those rock star temptations he had everywhere he went.
“And,” Sophie continued, “it might just be me, but maybe Conor would actually like for you to ask him if anything happened on the road. You know, show some jealousy. He sees that as reassurance—if it’s coming from the person he wants it from.”
There were still times like this where Felicity was forced to remember just how well Sophie knew her boyfriend. Most of the time, she cast aside Sophie and Conor’s shared history, not wanting to dwell on the fact that the two had had an inappropriately intimate friendship for too many years.
“Even so, I don’t want to be that way. What about you, Sophie? I’ve never seen you worry once about Gavin.”
Sophie was quiet for a moment and Felicity feared she had strayed into territory she shouldn’t have. After all, Felicity had personal knowledge of episodes that had not only tested, but damaged, Sophie’s marriage. What was she doing asking Sophie McManus for advice on how to put aside worry and insecurity and jealousy?
“I came into the band scene when I was young,” Sophie said before Felicity could retract her ill-advised entreaty. “I was nineteen when Gavin and I got engaged. Rogue was already a big deal. The groupies were even more rampant then. They were just part of the scene. It’s actually harder for them to get into the mix now.” Sophie shook her head. “Anyway, back at the beginning of all that, I made a deal with myself. Maybe it was easier to do it because I was so young, but for whatever reason, it worked. I told myself that I would rather be surprised and devastated by Gavin cheating than live my life thinking it was going to happen at any moment.”
That was such a Sophie philosophy. She saw the good in everyone. Being grumpy with Celia’s over solicitousness was about as critical as she got. And even then, it was only because she was anxious for the baby to arrive.
Hitting That Sweet Spot (Rogue Series Book 3) Page 4
