Looking For Trouble (Rogue Series Book 5)

by Lara Ward Cosio

  I know that this is just fantasy, but it is a sweet one that I don’t mind getting lost in.

  “I’ll text you Shay’s address there, so you can come by anytime, yeah?” I say with a laugh. “Be well, Ms. Patterson.”

  53

  There are acres of green grass called Crissy Field right on the San Francisco Bay near Shay’s house and Roscoe adores them. We’ve been in the city for almost a month now. Sometimes Shay joins us in our morning walks and explorations all over the city. During those times, we vary between relative silence, talking about nothing important, and deeper conversations about our parents and childhood.

  Shay’s been much more successful in letting go his resentment over those things than I have. As we walk along the cliffs at Fort Funston, a new spot we’re checking out for Roscoe’s sake, he tells me how he was able to make peace with the shitty lot in life he had as a kid.

  “Listen, I just figure I made it through, you know? I survived and there’s no use in giving it more importance than it deserves.”

  This is typical Shay. He’s always had this passivity with things. No matter how I might want to see him express his anger, that’s just not who he is. I can see, however, in this instance, why it works. It’s one of those tenants I learned in NA, about accepting the things I cannot control.

  There are a half a dozen brightly colored hang-gliders perched on the edge of the cliff and I watch them for a moment. Roscoe has run ahead and though I can’t see him, I trust that we’ll find each other. We always do.

  “I suppose,” I finally say with reluctance. “But I still don’t know how you can go visit those so-called parents of ours.”

  “To be honest, part of the reason I check in on them—other than to be sure they’re managing to take care of themselves—is to remind myself of how far I’ve come.”

  “Why would you need a reminder? You’re the best drummer in the world!”

  Shay laughs and shakes his head, humble as ever. He’d never dare say such a thing about himself, but I believe it and have no problem shouting it from the rooftops. Or the cliff tops, as the case may be. Rays of sunshine are darting through the remainder of the morning fog, promising a lovely day. We’re headed to the steep makeshift stairs that lead down to the ocean. My bet is that Roscoe is already down there making friends with sand crabs.

  “The thing that has always stayed with me from our childhood,” Shay confesses, “is the worry that I’d somehow end up like them. That I’d develop that disconnect they have. But Jess, she put an end to that for me. I know I’m not like them.”

  “Of course, you’re not. I may have ended up a fuck-up drug addict, but even so, I’ve never believed for a second that I’d turn out to be as useless as them. Never thought that about you either, kid. Jesus, I’m sorry you did.”

  Shay shrugs and smiles placidly. “It’s over and gone now.”

  “Good. Don’t ever doubt yourself again.”

  “Thanks, Danny Boy.”

  I wave that off.

  “I mean it. Thank you for all that you did for me. You sacrificed yourself for me. I can never repay that.”

  I look away, unable to accept this. Shay is the most generous person I’ve ever known. He’s giving with his time and his money and his heart. I don’t know how he managed to come out so well, but I’m grateful he did.

  “Ah, it’s not true,” I say. “I should have done better by you, you know? I should never have tried to pull you into my shit. I shouldn’t have run away.”

  “I get why you needed that. I don’t—”

  “There’s no excusing it. That’s the thing, Shay. That’s what I’ve realized with Ms. Patterson’s help. Justifying all my bullshit has to end. I can regret it, though. And I do. But I also have to be accountable for it.”

  “Then, accept my thanks, man,” Shay says with a laugh.

  Glancing at him, I say, “It’s fine. It’s how it was, like you said.”

  With a nod, Shay lets it drop, reading my desire to move on. I can’t truly accept his thanks because it strikes too deeply in my memories. It brings back the abject fear I lived with when I felt solely responsible for raising him. He’s right that, in the end, we survived. There’s no real use in going backwards.

  “Your Ms. Patterson sure was a lot of help, yeah?” he asks.

  I smile, glad for the change of topic, even if it does bring back that longing I’ve felt for her. It’s been over six months since I’ve seen her, and I was good on my word about not leaving her any more messages since that last one when I told her I was coming to stay with my brother. It’s been bittersweet, but I have tried to let go my fantasy that she’d join me here.

  “She was,” I agree.

  “Any chance you’ll go back to seeing her as your therapist?”

  “Nah. Our thing is over.”

  “You did fall in love, didn’t you?”

  I glance at him and then out in the distance where Roscoe is sniffing around near some driftwood on the beach. We’ve descended most of the way down the sandy steps and we’re not the only ones. This seems to be a popular spot to bring your dog, which is a good thing.

  “I suppose I can’t deny that,” I say. “Though, I’m only guessing since it would have been a first for me. Not sure exactly what it feels like.”

  “You know when it happens, Danny Boy,” Shay says sagely. “You know.”

  If that’s the case, then I did fall in love with her. I’ve had no other comparable feeling, yet I sense that I held something sweet and real for her in my heart.

  Finally, down on the beach, I take a deep breath and look up toward where we started. The cliffs seem dauntingly high, and even more so when one of the hang gliders pushes off the edge and floats above us. I flash back to Tulum, to watching the wind surfers in the wild, white-capped water and my longing to jump into the fray, no matter what harm might come my way. That desire to unleash chaos feels like a long time ago. The realization that I don’t have the same interest in that kind of self-destruction anymore makes me smile. That change has been a long time coming. I give a lot of credit for it to Ms. Patterson. But I also acknowledge the work that I’ve done to get here. It all comes back to the choices I make, after all.

  “And so? What’s it coming to with you and Jessica?” I ask, ready to shift the focus away from myself. “Marriage and kids, yeah?”

  Roscoe comes bounding at us with a tennis ball in his mouth. It’s not ours. He must have found it when he was nosing around. When he drops it at my feet it’s covered in slobber. I pick it up and throw it as far afield as I can. Looking back at Shay, I find he’s got a dopey grin on his gob.

  “Marriage will come sooner or later,” he says. “And it looks like we’ll definitely be doing the kid part,” he says.

  I’m elated by the news that my brother—the best man I know—will be a father. I slap him on the back before hugging him tightly. “Congratulations, kid.”

  “Thanks, man.” He can’t keep the smile from his face, even when he says, “You wiped that dog drool all over my back, didn’t you?”

  I laugh in acknowledgement. He shakes his head and we keep walking.

  When we get home at mid-day, I’m first up the stairs. I hear two women’s voices for a second before they stop abruptly. The first thing I see as I get closer to the second, main level of the house, is a pair of lovely legs partially exposed under a red pencil skirt while sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

  Then I see her. She’s paired the skirt with a casual white cotton top and several delicate, layered gold necklaces. Her hair is down and longer than when I saw her last. More than anything, she looks radiant, with cheeks flushed and eyes bright at the excitement and uncertainty of the moment.

  I feel no such conflict in seeing her, only pure and overwhelming joy. She has taken me up on my invitation to visit me here, but we both know it’s so much more than a visit. This is the start of something, and I’ll do everything I can to make it work.

  “My dea
r Ms. Patterson,” I say, the smile so big on my face that it brings me close to tears.

  “Daniel,” she replies. She smiles and stands to receive me as I rush to her.

  The End . . .

  * * *

  Continue for a Bonus Excerpt

  BONUS EXCERPT

  Early in Looking For Trouble, Danny Boy hears a brief story about Jules from Gavin. That was based on a section I had to delete from Tangled Up In You. I’ve included that section here so you can get more of the juicy details of what happened:

  Gavin had been sleeping for ten hours straight when the vibrating of his cell phone made it jump so much that it finally fell off the side table and clatter onto the floor, waking him with a start. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see that it was getting dark outside. The clock told him it was almost eight-thirty and it took him a moment to understand that it was evening. A quick glance at the empty side of the bed next to him told him Sophie hadn’t come home like he had expected.

  They had planned to meet back in Dublin after being separated by work—her for modeling gigs all over Europe, and him for touring in America. Rogue had the next ten days off before they would go to Latin America for a series of festival dates.

  The band returned home the previous night and while Martin went straight to see Celia and Donal, Gavin, Conor, and Shay chose to have a drink together out on the town. The night had run long as they entertained conversation with the pub regulars and more and more of their hometown friends showed up to celebrate with them. When Gavin finally crawled into bed at eight in the morning, he fell asleep content with the knowledge that Sophie would be home, too, that afternoon.

  Fumbling for his cell, which now had a cracked screen, he put an end to the buzzing with a swipe over Sophie’s photo. She must have had a flight delay, he thought, as he collapsed back against a down pillow.

  “Baby, it’s me,” Sophie said.

  “Darlin’, I know it’s you, but, where are you?” He rubbed his eyes and cleared his aching throat, desperate for his self-prescribed medicine of hot tea with a shot of whiskey.

  “I’m at Heathrow airport. I’ve got some bad news.”

  Gavin sat up, suddenly alarmed. “What is it?”

  “I’m not coming home yet. I’ll be there in a week.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re an hour away.”

  “I’m at the airport because I have to go to a job in the Maldives,” she said and he could hear the hesitancy in her voice.

  Now he was sure he was still sleeping and this was a bad dream. “The what? You’re fucking joking, right?”

  “No, and I’m so sorry, Gavin. I miss you so much.”

  “Then you’d be here if that was true. What are you doing? We’ve had this planned. Fuck’s sake, we haven't been together for going on six weeks.”

  “I know—”

  “And what about our deal? The one we made that said we wouldn’t be apart longer than three weeks? You promised to be the one to make that happen since I can’t do much to change my schedule.”

  “I know I did. It’s just, Henri hasn’t been letting me turn down anything. He says I can’t ruin the momentum I have now or I might never get these chances again.”

  Gavin closed his eyes and shook his head. “So, this is your priority, then? That’s what you’re telling me.”

  “I am coming home, baby. And then I’ll be with you for the festivals. This is just a little delay.”

  “What about the principle of our agreement?” That wasn’t really his primary concern, but he wasn’t above using it to express his frustration with the situation.

  “I’m still going to work on the three-week rule. But I got a last-minute invitation to go to this SI shoot and I couldn't say no. It could be such a big deal for my—”

  “What? Your career? Please, Sophie. I thought we had some perspective here.”

  “Don't belittle what I do. Just because you don't understand it—”

  “What’s to fucking understand? You’re happier to get your photograph taken than to be with me. You’re the one making the choices here.”

  “That’s not fair,” she said, and he could hear the tears in her voice. “My plane’s about to take off. I have to go.”

  “Fine. Go.”

  “Gavin, I love you.”

  “Then come home,” he said stubbornly.

  “I will. Just give me one more week.”

  “I may not be here when you get back.”

  “Wait a minute, what does that mean?” she asked quickly.

  “Just that if you’re going to do your own thing, maybe I will too.”

  “Baby, please,” she whispered.

  “Please, what?” he asked coldly.

  “Don't do this.”

  Gavin closed his eyes tightly and tried to control his emotions. He understood that they threatened to overwhelm his better judgment.

  “Darlin’, be safe and call me when you get there,” he finally said.

  “I will. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, Sophie,” he said resignedly.

  Over the next few days, Gavin tried and failed to shake off his sullen attitude about Sophie choosing work over him. Now more than ever, she was what he needed to soothe his frayed edges. He’d been feeling an unexplained sense of foreboding lately, like something terrible was going to happen. Episodes like this had occurred before in his life, but he was usually able to shake that free-form anxiety. This time, it didn’t seem like there was anything he could do to be rid of it. He missed having his wife by his side. He missed the easy way she knew how to manage him, to bring him down from the edge. He also missed her body. It had been forty-five very long days without her touch while he turned away scores of women eager to fill her place.

  When Jules showed up at the house unexpectedly he didn’t immediately register that she was one of those women. He was just happy to see a friend who would take his mind off of his worries.

  “You all right?” she asked as he led her inside the house.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “You seem . . . off.”

  “You can read me, can’t you,” he said with a smile. “No, I’m okay. Could use a laugh, though. Glad you’re here.”

  “Took a chance by coming by.” Jules looked around the empty living room. “Sophie here?”

  “Ah, no. She’ll be back day after next.”

  “Working, then?” Jules asked with a smirk.

  Gavin didn’t want to get into it with Jules. It was clear enough she knew he didn’t care for Sophie’s modeling career, but he wouldn’t bash his wife with his ex.

  “Drink?” he asked.

  One drink turned into many as they took turns playing DJ for each other, chatting idly, and smoking the weed she had brought.

  Gavin had relaxed and was happy to have released that anxiety he’d been harboring. Then, Jules ratcheted it back up.

  “What do you do with yourself when Sophie is away this long?” she asked.

  They sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, and he glanced at her without understanding where she was going with this.

  “Whatever suits me, I suppose,” he said with a laugh.

  “She’s . . . open that way?”

  “Eh, well, you know, we’re adults. We can manage ourselves.”

  Jules raised her eyebrows in surprise, but that response quickly changed to delight. She slid over so she was sitting closer to him.

  “If that’s the case, then I’d be happy to help you manage,” she said. “You must be positively desperate.”

  The marijuana made everything funny and Gavin laughed again. “You’re hitting on me, Jules?”

  She wrapped her arm around his neck and toyed with his hair. “I’m open to it if you are.”

  “What? You’re open to sleeping with me? How’d we get to that?”

  “You said Sophie doesn’t mind—”

  “I said no such thing. Jesus, I don’t need this from you, Jules. I thou
ght we were good with being mates. Right?”

  Pulling away from him, she blinked and shook her head. “I, em, I thought you meant you were free to, you know, play around. I mean, if it’s just a physical thing, it can be totally harmless. I’m sure you’re dying to get laid after all that time on the road.”

  “I am, it’s true. But I’m also happy to wait for my wife for that. Come on, let’s just pretend this whole thing didn’t happen, yeah?”

  He could see she was hurt and embarrassed. But she also wasn’t ready to let it go.

  “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt, though. And in the meantime, you’ll get that release I know you need. Remember, I can read you.”

  The vision of their time together years ago, when they were just starting out in the music scene and everything was free-flowing, including their desire for each other, streaked through his mind. They did know how to have fun together, that’s for sure. And it would be easy to reignite that, if only briefly. He also thought of the fight he’d had with Sophie over not coming home. If she knew that Jules was in their house right now, not to mention propositioning him like this, she’d be justifiably pissed off. She had never come to like Jules, not after how terribly things had gone at their first meeting. Still, for the briefest second, he liked the idea of, not sleeping with Jules, but Sophie being jealous over her presence. It would be petty retribution for her choosing work over him. But he quickly rejected that idea.