Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2) Page 3

  “I’m okay, I think, just a little banged up. Nothing’s broken, I don’t think. Did you get the license plate of that idiot?” She asked bending her knee and looking carefully at her hands, moving her fingers delicately.

  “Which idiot was that?” Pretty man asked. He looked amused. She was still sitting on the pavement and he was still kneeling next to her holding her carefully. It should have bothered her but it didn’t.

  “The one that swerved to hit me. I wasn’t initially aiming for your car. Oh no, your car, is it okay?” She asked and he laughed. She looked up into his very blue eyes when he laughed. He had a face that was accustomed to laughter, she could see it in his small lines around his amused eyes and grinning mouth.

  “The car will live, are you okay?” She nodded and moved to stand. He pulled her up. She wobbled slightly and he held her to him. “Can we give you a lift home? You’re unsteady, my lass.” She thought it was him making her unsteady as he held her to his body. He was firm and warm and she liked the way he felt against her. Trying to concentrate, she looked at her bike. It might even be okay.

  “You’re very kind,” she said and looked at him again.

  “No,” he said, drawing the word out. “I just want to see you safe, you wee lemming.” Fiona laughed. It felt very nice to be in this stranger’s embrace, but she pulled away a little and he immediately released her, yet stood ready in case she fell over.

  “Thank you, but I’m not really a lemming. It was an accident, I wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt myself. I think my bike will get me home; it’s just a few blocks, and mostly downhill from here. Hmm, it’s a little banged up, too. Thank you for not running me over,” she said. Pretty man shrugged a little, still smiling.

  “I wasn’t driving, but you’re very welcome. What’s your name, lass?” He said as she swung her leg over the bike.

  “I’m Fiona Brooks,” she said putting her hand out and shaking his. His hand was warm and his handshake firm, but not crushing, something she always noticed since her hands were her livelihood.

  “It is very nice to meet you, Fiona Brooks,” he held on to her hand. After a pause where she expected him to say his name in turn but he didn’t, she cocked her head at him. He made no move to tell her or disengage his hand, he only stood there gazing into her eyes with a silly grin on his face.

  “Now you’re supposed to say your name,” she urged in a discreet whisper. His eyes opened a little wider and he cocked his head to the side and smiled.

  “I’m Tate, Tate Dylan,” his smile got huge. His teeth were very white and even on the top with the bottoms only a little crooked. It was disconcertingly charming for some reason and her heart fluttered a little.

  “Thanks for your help, Tate, Tate Dylan. Hey, by the way, you and your wife are Irish, right? I didn’t hit my head and start hearing everyone speak in Irish accents?” He laughed.

  “She’s my sister, I’m not married. And yes, I’m Irish. And you, Fiona Brooks, are the most refreshing woman I think I’ve ever met,” he said gleefully. She looked at him surprised.

  “Refreshing? In four minutes you decided that? Why?”

  “It’s been closer to six minutes,” he grinned his lopsided grin. “Give us your number and we’ll discuss it over dinner, aye,” his smile was the sweetest thing she’d seen in a while, and she couldn’t help smiling back at him.

  “I’m afraid I’ve got plans for dinner, it’s Thanksgiving… an American holiday where we eat until we’re too exhausted to eat any more,” she said. “It’s downright Roman.” He laughed, throwing his head back doing it.

  “Then I’ll say ‘thanks for giving me your number,’” he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

  “That was a little bit painful,” she said and they laughed together.

  “Forgive me, I’m grasping at straws, I don’t want you to just ride out of my life. We’ll discuss it over breakfast, lunch, dinner tomorrow, pick one, or all. If only so I know you made it home with that terrible head injury making you hallucinate Irish people everywhere.” She liked the way he said Irish, it reminded her of her dad. He gave her puppy dog eyes and she damned near gave him her number. This man has flirted before, she thought. “Are you married?”

  “Just to my work,” she said with a smile and started coasting slowly away from him. He kept up with her.

  “Are you in a serious relationship?” He said and she bit her lip and shook her head. “Would you like to be?” He held his arms out from his sides in supplication. She laughed and he tried again.

  “What, you’re just going to leave me here?” He said, still walking with her.

  “You’ll be all right. Thanks for scraping me off the pavement,” she smiled at him and gained speed.

  “Mind the road, Fiona Brooks,” he called to her and she gave him a thumbs up and pedaled home to soak in the bath and lick her wounds.

  Tate watched her disappear down the road, and when she was gone he slid back into the car. “She had no idea who I was,” he said excitedly to Christie and Ryan. “Driver, will you follow her a few blocks to make sure she gets home safely?”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said and smoothly pulled back out into traffic. They caught up to her and followed for about three minutes before she stopped and opened her garage with an opener in her pocket and parked the bike in it, disappearing as the door descended behind her.

  “I think this is considered stalking, Tate,” Christie said looking at her brother carefully. “Do you do this often?”

  “Christie, I don’t usually have to, but she has no idea who I am, I have to send her flowers,” he said looking at the number on the door, and tapped it into his phone.

  “So, it’s the ones that say ‘no’ that you want the most, is it?” Ryan said. “The thrill of the chase?”

  “No one’s said ‘no’ before, but Genna, and she was a lost cause from the start. Anyway, this black haired beauty didn’t say ‘no.’”

  “She didn’t say ‘yes,’ though, did she?” Ryan was enjoying himself.

  “She didn’t say ‘yes,’ yet,” Tate smirked at his brother-in-law. “I wonder if she’s just woken from a coma or something.”

  “You’ve got an ego on you,” Christie said to Tate with an amused smile on her face.

  “He does have a point, lamb,” Ryan said and Tate pointed at him and nodded.

  “And you’ve an ego on you, too, Ryan O’Brian. Jimmy, please take us back to R Street now, my brother’s finished stalking the poor lass,” Christie said to the driver.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jimmy said with a smile and drove back to the Fleming’s house.

  ***

  “I’ll get it, Amelia, you sit down you’ve been on your feet all day,” Tate said with a wink at his hostess, Amelia Fleming, when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and there stood the woman of his dreams. “I knew you’d be back.” He grinned wickedly at her. Fiona stepped back and looked at the address on the front of the house and then at the phone she held in her hand, and finally back to Tate.

  Since she coasted away from him an hour and a half ago she kicked herself for not giving him her number after all. She had always been uncomfortable giving out her number to men, but this beautiful man standing in front of her had intrigued her, so much so that her body was reacting powerfully just to his penetrating azure gaze. Her heart beat quicker and she felt her face flush, and had he opened his arms she would have leapt into them. How did he manage to do that?

  “Tate, Tate Dylan? You’re Tess’s father?” He stepped out on to the front porch with her, closing the door behind him and she stepped back a little and her breathing hitched. Tate stepped even closer and she stepped back too far and began to tumble backwards down the steps and he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

  “Careful, lass. That’s it,” he moved her around so she wasn’t going to fall and released her when he knew she was recovered. Fiona was flabbergasted. Tate moved like a ninja, smoothly averting disaster. “Are you prone to this sort o
f thing?” He looked disapproving. She looked at the steps she nearly went down the hard way and put her hand to her throat.

  “No, I…Thank you,” she said. He waved it off like it was nothing.

  “You know our Tess?” He said taking her other hand and sliding his thumb over the back of it. He leaned close to her and said softly, “Please don’t tell me you’re her professor.”

  “I’m one of her professors.”

  “Christ woman, you can’t be one of her professors, you’re just a lassie,” he said. She pulled a face at him and he laughed throwing his head back. The door behind Tate opened silently and Fiona saw Tess over Tate’s shoulder.

  “Tate,” Tess barked and he jumped guiltily. “No hitting on my professor, you agreed.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  “All bets are off, Tess, my dearest,” he said good naturedly still gazing at Fiona. “You made me agree to that under extreme duress, it would never hold up in a court of law, and that was before I knew just who your professor was. I thought you meant some crone from the women’s literature department. This is none other than Fiona Brooks, lass, she’s the wee lemming who flew into my windshield.”

  “Do you even know how to drive?” Tess said as she came around him and took Fiona’s arm and tugged her inside. Tate grabbed his heart.

  “That was a swift blow to the bollox, lass. Did she learn that in school?” He said accusingly at Fiona who laughed.

  “I didn’t teach her that,” Fiona said playing along.

  “Come in, Fiona,” Tess said. “Meet the rest of my family.”

  “Please tell me he’s not your mother’s husband,” Fiona said.

  “See, she’s interested,” Tate said smiling smugly at them. “I told you I wasn’t married, though.”

  “People will say all sorts of things to women they pick up off the street,” she said and he laughed again.

  “I’ll never lie to you, lassie,” he put his hand over his heart and looked very solemn.

  “No he’s not,” Tess brought the conversation back around. “My mother’s husband is Connor, I’m guessing he’s in the kitchen, from the racket I hear coming from that direction. Was it really you who rode into the car today?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Fiona said.

  “Are you okay?” Tess reached out to examine Fiona’s hands. There was a large scrape on her left palm. Fiona chuckled.

  “That’s the first thing I did, too. I’m fine, a little bruised here and there, but no permanent damage. Nothing’s broken.” Tate looked over Fiona’s shoulder as Tess examined her hands. She must be a musician, he thought with delight, and a good one too, from Tess’s concern. How intriguing, he thought.

  “Except for my heart when she rode away,” Tate said, unable to not flirt with her.

  Xav was coming down the steps and Tess stopped him.

  “Fiona, this is my little brother, Xavier Du Pre. Xav, this is Fiona Brooks, my musical theory professor,” she said over the caterwauling in the next room. Xav smiled and shook her hand. Connor and Ryan were singing “How much is that doggie in the window?” While the twins barked their heads off.

  “Right about now you’re wondering what you got talked into, I bet,” Xav said with a laugh. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Brooks.”

  “Call me Fiona. It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said.

  “Well come in, Fiona, just ignore Tate,” Xav said. Tate threw his arms wide.

  “I am standing right here and I can bloody hear you plain as day,” Tate said. Xav smiled at him. Amelia and Alasdair Fleming came in and shook Fiona’s hand and sat her down in the living room after Alasdair took her coat and hung it in the front hall closet.

  “Tess has told us all about you, my dear,” Alasdair said to her.

  “And she has been remarkably reticent about telling me about any of you,” Fiona said smiling at him.

  Xav laughed. “Can you blame her?” Xav cocked his head to the kitchen just as a very loud howl erupted from there.

  “Xavier lad, would you inform your mother Dr. Brooks has arrived?” Alasdair asked his grandson. Xav smiled mischievously at him.

  “I think she should come back and meet everyone, Lally. See them in action, don’t you?”

  “Good thinking lad, rip the plaster right off,” Tate said putting his hand out to Fiona who took it and stood.

  “That means Band-Aid,” Xav explained. Fiona laughed and nodded.

  “I know, my father’s Irish.”

  “So’s mine, we have so much in common already,” Tate said.

  “So it’s kind of like the UN in here, you’re Irish,” she pointed to Tate. “You’re Scottish,” she pointed to Alasdair, and then turned to Tess and Xav. “And you two have French names.”

  “I told you, well-travelled and funny,” Tess said grinning.

  They smiled at each other as Tate escorted her back to the kitchen and swung the door wide.

  The scene was even better than any of them could have anticipated. Ryan stood next to his boys who sat strapped into highchairs at the small table, he was covered in cranberry sauce, having just had it launched at his face by his younger, by seven minutes, son. Genna, Christie and Piper were laughing, doubled over clutching at each other. Connor was straddling the sink, which was sunken into the granite countertop, singing “How much is that doggie in the window?” into a banana, with Alex dancing like Urkel on the counter next to him. The man was gyrating his hips to the beat that the twins and Edgar pounded on the table while barking. Suddenly everyone went quiet and they slowly turned to the door. There was one last bark from one of the twins in the sudden silence.

  “Everyone, this is my professor, Fiona Brooks, she’ll probably curve my grade up now that she knows insanity runs in my family,” Tess said trying to be mad at them but failing.

  Connor launched the banana at Ryan, who caught it seemingly without even looking, and jumped gracefully off the sink and turning to help his clone down.

  Ryan hugged Tess and said, “Never apologize for your family, lass. You only need to apologize for your friends.” He kissed her cheek and managed to get a smile out of her.

  “Thanks Ryan, now I feel better,” she said as she wiped the cranberry he just transferred to her, off her face with his shirt. He grinned.

  “Dr. Brooks, I’m Genna, Tess’s mom. I’m so glad to meet you,” Genna said taking her hand with a large smile. Fiona noticed she was pregnant. Tess never said a word. “We were just entertaining the children…” Genna swept the room with her hand.

  “Please call me Fiona. Tess has told me absolutely nothing about you all,” she said.

  “Now you know why,” said Xav in a stage whisper everyone heard.

  “This is my husband, Connor Damon, our son Alex, and our dear friends Christie and Ryan O’Brian. This is my sister Piper Fleming, and her beau Edgar Beasley,” Genna said and Fiona shook everyone’s hand. Fiona thought she had never heard anyone use the term “beau” without sarcasm, but Genna pulled it off making it sound natural.

  “These are wee Connor and wee Tate,” Christie said pointing at the twins who were getting very sleepy and barking and giggling quietly at each other. “Ryan and I will take them up for a bath. I should have brought a change of clothes for you, too,” Christie smiled at her husband. Fiona recognized Christie as one of the other people in the car she hit. She looked a lot like her brother, small boned and beautiful. Her husband was slim and feline, with very dark hair, like one of his two boys, the other favored his mother. The blond boy, wee Tate, had brown eyes and the darker one, wee Connor, had blue, but the shape of the eyes were just like Ryan’s. They were both covered in cranberry and completely adorable.

  “Take a shirt from our room, Christie,” Connor said with a wink. Christie and Ryan went up the back staircase with the sticky boys, one of whom started saying, “Mama, Mama, Mama,” with each step, prompting the other to mimic him all the way up, and Genna looked back at Fiona.

  “They’re ri
diculous, but we love them,” Genna said. Fiona laughed. It was a very amusing scene to walk in on; Tess was right, they clearly were a fun crowd.

  “The boys are adorable,” Fiona said with a big smile.

  “Can I get you a drink, Fiona?” Connor asked.

  “I’d love one,” she said.

  “Wine, beer?” Connor asked.

  “White wine would be great, thanks,” Fiona said.

  “Fiona is the woman who hit us earlier,” Tate said from right behind her. She jumped a little at his proximity.

  “Are you okay? Sit down, oops, not there, cranberry. Sit here,” Genna said finding a sponge and cleaning up after the boys.

  “I’m fine,” she held up her fingers and looked again to make sure.

  “How many fingers are you holding up?” Tate asked and she laughed.

  “All of them,” she responded.

  “Gold star. You play an instrument, don’t you, love?” Tate asked. She nodded, and jumped again when he lifted her hands to look more closely at them. He examined them, made a tsk-tsk at the scrape, felt for calluses on her fingertips and looked over her hands into her eyes. “Piano,” he said softly.

  She smiled at him and turned his hand over. “And you play a stringed instrument, but I don’t know which one,” she said and he grinned at her like she was a star pupil.

  “Another gold star, love. I’m going to run low if you keep on like this,” he said flirting like mad.

  Genna put a glass of wine on the table next to Fiona. She dragged her eyes away from Tate’s and pulled her hands out of his, glancing back at him with a smile. What was he doing to her?

  “Thank you, Genna,” she said.

  Connor reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a few beers. He held one up and Tate nodded. “Piper? Edgar?”

  “I’ll have some of that wine Connor, but Edgar will have a beer,” Piper said and Edgar beamed at her and drew her close to him affectionately. Piper looked just like Genna with the exception of her hair. Piper’s hair was a stunning russet red, just like Xav’s, only much longer. Edgar was bald as a cue ball and brawny like a circus strong man, but with the softest, sweetest brown eyes she’d ever seen. This is where the beautiful people hung out.