by K. A. Finn
‘You’re not the first one to say that. Just one of those freaky coincidences I guess.’ He opens the window as the traffic comes to a stop. The stunning weather has brought everyone out early, turning the N11 into a slow-moving line of cars. At this rate they’ll be lucky to get to Newcastle in time for lunch.
Tate rests his arm on the door and taps the roof with his fingers as he edges the car forward at a snail’s pace. He frowns when he hears something familiar. Chloe looks over at him, a huge smile on her face.
‘That wouldn’t happen to be one of your songs?’
‘Yep.’ He grins across at her. ‘It would appear I may have been spotted.’
‘It could just be a coincidence. Or not,’ she adds quickly when the volume increases and the occupants of the car alongside them shout his name. Thankfully, the traffic eases, giving him an escape route. He waves at them as he pulls away and they respond by beeping their horn a few times. Tate manages to put a fair bit of distance between them before the traffic stops again.
‘Okay. That was a first.’
Chloe looks in the rear-view mirror. ‘I think you’ve lost them. You certainly keep things interesting, don’t you? Maybe you should get a less conspicuous car?’
Tate slowly looks over at her and raises his eyebrows. ‘Eh, no. We’ll just have to use the bike a lot more. A helmet is a great disguise.’
Chloe may laugh at that suggestion but he’s being serious. Having her body tight against his is another great selling point for the bike.
‘So, what do you have planned for today?’
He was kind of hoping not to think about that until he had to.
‘Well, I’ll drop you home then head over to my folks for a few hours. I’ve got to be back at my place for a call at five so at least I have an out if things get awkward.’
‘I’m sure it will be fine. Just grovel and mean it.’
‘Oh I’ll mean it all right.’ He looks down as Chloe takes his hand. It’s only then he realises he’s been scratching his arm again. ‘Shit. Sorry.’
‘It’s not me you have to apologise to, it’s your skin. It would be a shame if you damaged that tattoo. I like it.’
That surprises him. He didn’t think she was overly fond of his tattoos. ‘You do?’
‘Of course. You look surprised to hear that.’
He shrugs as he pulls up at a red light. ‘I didn’t think you liked them.’
‘Okay, if someone asked if I liked that many or for them to be as visible as some of yours are, I probably would have said no.’
‘I’m hoping there’s a ‘but’ coming.’
‘But,’ she adds with a smile, ‘they really suit you and your body.’
‘Don’t you mean my shaggable body? That is what you called it, or am I imagining that part?’
She blushes and looks out the window. ‘Yes, Tate. They suit your shaggable body. I absolutely love every single one of them.’
He pulls away from the light and turns on to the road that leads back to her gran’s. ‘So, you wouldn’t have a problem with more?’
‘You’re getting another tattoo?’
Her face drops a little. Yeah, she’s not thrilled about that prospect. ‘Plural and yeah, that’s the plan. Next up is a Celtic dragon up my side. It won’t be for a few months yet but I’ve had it designed.’
‘How many more are you planning?’
‘Quite a few. I’m kind of hooked. You’re giving me the same look my mum does when I mention getting more done.’
‘What about piercings? Any more plans?’
‘No plans.’ He glances over at her and frowns when he catches something in her expression. ‘Why do you look a little disappointed by that?’
‘I was just wondering why you only got one nipple done. It’s clearly a turn on for you.’
‘You noticed that, huh?’ he replies with a grin. ‘You’ve seen what I’m like with one done. Getting the other pierced would be seriously dangerous for both of us.’
‘Right.’
‘Okay, I’m getting a definite vibe here. Do you want me to get the other one pierced?’
Chloe shrugs and looks out the side window. ‘I don’t know. I really like it. Ignore me.’
‘Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that middle part.’
‘I like it,’ she repeats a little louder even though she knows full well he heard her the first time.
‘So that’s a yes.’
‘I don’t know. Well, no. It’s your body. I’m not going to tell you what to do with it.’
‘So you don’t want me to.’
‘All I’m trying to say is that if you ever decided to get the other one done I wouldn’t be overly upset about it.’
Tate smirks. ‘Clear as mud, thanks.’
‘But can you promise me something?’
‘I’ll give it a shot.’
‘Whatever tattoo you get can you please promise me you won’t let Gregg anywhere near you when it’s being done. Actually, make sure he’s in another country altogether. I dread to think what he could dare you to get done.’
∞
After saving goodbye to Chloe, Tate pulls into his parents’ driveway and stares over at the front door. For some reason facing them after getting out of rehab was easier than this is going to be. He had a meltdown and beat his friend. It was stupid and childish. If he was looking for a way to prove to his mum that he was coping grand with everything, that wasn’t the way to do it.
He jumps when someone knocks on his window. His dad smiles at him as he opens the door and gets out. ‘You sitting in there all day or do you fancy actually coming into the house?’
‘Am I welcome?’
Rick looks away and makes a face. ‘You eaten yet?’
‘No.’
‘Right. C’mon then. You can do your grovelling while we eat.’
Two hours later, Tate wanders outside and over to the stables. His grovelling comprised of an I’m sorry and a hug. They were cutting him way too much slack and he knows why. They were afraid to push him too hard in case he did something stupid again. The infuriating itching builds again but he ignores it. After saddling Jove, he brings him to the beach and heads away from the house.
Lunch had been one of the single most awkward experiences he’s had for a while. Putting on a show for his parents so they’d think everything was hunky-fucking-dory wasn’t easy.
He’s keeping so much shit to himself to protect the people he loves. To protect the band, his parents, and Chloe. An invisible hand twists in his gut at the thought of losing her. Even after this short time, she is quickly becoming an important part of his life. He’d do anything to keep her away from all the mental shit he’s dealing with.
She’s taking a chance attaching herself to someone like him. A heroin addict just out of rehab with too many public ex-girlfriends. Not exactly what people look for in a partner.
But she had said yes. She’s his girlfriend.
He says it over and over in his head but it’s still not sinking in.
He never thought calling someone his girlfriend would sound so good. Thirty-six years-old and he’s finally in a real relationship. Sex and parties. That was as deep and meaningful as it got for him in the past. And that’s probably down to him. Thinking back he’s disgusted at some of the things he’d done over the last few years. He’d been a right selfish asshole at times.
Tate snaps out of his thoughts as a wave hits his leg, soaking him. He hadn’t realised he was in the fucking sea. He can’t keep zoning out like this. Things improved while she was with him. She distracted him, calmed him. She was able to keep his head from wandering to stuff he didn’t want to remember. Without her, there’s nothing to stop the darkness from taking him.
He turns Jove around and guides him back to the beach. Being with her made him feel more like himself. Like the old, pre-fuck up version. Then again, it’s not like that version of himself was anything to write home about.
Tate looks up the beach as he rub
s the side of Jove’s neck. No sign of Chloe. Less than a few hours have gone by since he dropped her home. Getting through the day without her is going to be fun at this rate.
He readjusts his grip on the reins as Jove paws at the sand. He’s desperate to be set free. It takes barely a nudge from Tate to spur Jove on, his hooves crashing through the shallows as he gallops down the beach. As the wind whistles past him, Tate realises he may be heading down another unfamiliar path with Chloe.
If he’s not careful he could easily fall for her.
18
Chloe looks out the window of Tate’s truck. ‘Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?’
Tate pulls away as the light turns green. ‘Because it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Do you not get the concept of a surprise?’
‘Fine. I’ll stop asking.’
Tate smirks and concentrates on driving again. The last three days were spent writing, recording, and doing a few painfully long photo-shoots for the new album.
He hadn’t seen Chloe since he dropped her back to her gran’s place and he’d missed being with her. The days were busy enough but it was when he was at home alone that the problems surfaced.
The house seemed strangely empty without Chloe there. His bed smelt like her which just made the irrational loneliness worse. Instead of sleeping he’d tried doing some writing, played guitar, worked out, watched endless episodes of CSI then crashed on the couch when he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
They’d be heading off to London for the awards in just over a week and he’s a nervous wreck about it. If that wasn’t bad enough, Ellen scheduled a quick slot on a talk show in the UK the day after tomorrow. No amount of excuses or arguing had convinced her to let him off the hook. He was going and that was that.
He knows she’s right. Just like she’s right about going to the award ceremony, but that didn’t mean he was ready. He had toyed with the idea of asking Chloe to tag along, but he needs to grow a fucking backbone and do it without her support. It’s not like it’s his first show and the guys will be with him. They were closing the show so were all heading over together. Strength in numbers and all that.
‘Are you thinking about the interview?’
Tate looks across at her. ‘How the fuck did you know that?’
‘You’re doing one of your seriously deep frowns. And you’ve moved to scratch your arm a few times. You didn’t which is great, but you’ve thought about it.’
‘Remind me never to take up poker. Those are some serious tells.’
‘Ellen isn’t going to put you into a situation she doesn’t think you’re ready for.’
‘I know. I think it’s just the build up to it. Once I’m there and I get going I’ll be grand. I need to get this one done and out of the way.’
‘Do you have any idea when it will be aired?’
‘Saturday night. They want to get it out before the awards are announced next week. I won’t be back until Sunday afternoon though.’
‘So I’ll be watching it without you.’
‘Thank fuck. I hate watching myself on TV. I always notice too any things I’m not happy with.’
‘Control freak, huh?’
He smiles at her as he pulls into the car park. ‘You got it. Anyway, enough about that. I’d prefer not to think about it until I’m on the flight.’ He turns off the engine and smirks across at her. ‘Today is about you. Ready for your surprise?’
∞
He takes her hand as they leave the carpark and step onto the busy Dublin street. As they make their way through the crowd, Chloe catches someone staring at them more than once. Well, more specifically staring at him. A woman about her age stops and asks for an autograph and a photo with him, which he agrees to. After gushing over him for a minute, Tate finally manages to break away, taking Chloe’s hand again.
‘Sorry about that.’
‘Does that happen often?’
‘It’s hit and miss. One day I could walk through Grafton Street at lunchtime and no one would bat an eyelid. Then something like this happens on a side street.’
‘And you always agree?’
‘Of course. Well, unless they’re being a dick about it. I had one girl ask me for five autographs once. She wanted to sell them. She got fuck all. The way I see it, I can only be successful at what I do if they support me and the guys. If no one buys our music, I’ll be back to singing in the shower to myself. A few autographs and photos is nothing.’
He opens the door to a shop and gestures for her to go in. Chloe smiles as she looks around. There are art supplies crammed into every corner of the small shop. A woman steps out from behind the counter and comes up to shake his hand. ‘Mr. Archer. I’m Rachel. So nice to meet you.’
‘You too. And it’s Tate.’
‘Of course. We’re at your disposal.’
Tate drapes his arm around Chloe’s shoulder. ‘This is Chloe. With your help she’s going to go a little nuts in here, if that’s okay?’
Rachel grins widely. ‘I have no problem with that in the slightest.’ She locks the door, turns the sign from open to closed then faces Chloe. ‘Shall we get started?’
‘Get started on what? What’s going on?’
‘Tate rang us yesterday and asked if we would be able to sort you out with some supplies.’
‘What supplies?’
‘Whatever you want,’ Tate says. ‘You had to use a pen and some copier paper before. I’m not having that. Rachel is going to make sure you have anything and everything you need.’ He leans closer to whisper in her ear, ‘I fully intend for you to stay over a lot. This will give you something to do while I’m snoring my ass off.’
‘No way, Tate. I can’t accept this.’
‘Tough. You either cooperate and let Rachel sort you out or I’m going to have to do it myself and fuck knows what you’ll get. I want to do this for you. Let me.’
Chloe is quiet for a few minutes then the smile breaks. ‘You’re an irritating man. Do you know that?’
‘It’s been mentioned a few times. Go on. Have fun.’
Two hours later, Chloe thanks Rachel for her help and Tate gently pushes her towards the door and away from the till. He arranges to have everything delivered to her gran’s house the following day so she can sort through it all and see what she wants to bring to his house. Rachel writes down the total and shows it to Tate who simply nods and hands his credit card over.
Chloe had tried to keep a tally of the total in her head as they walked around the shop but gave up after the first few minutes. She had made a valiant effort to keep the total as low as possible, but as items were added to the list, she realised Rachel had been prepped in advance. She knew exactly what Tate’s budget was and from the length of the receipt, it was a healthy one. She dreads to think how much of his money Rachel helped her spend. Not that the shop owner would be complaining about that.
Tate finishes with Rachel and shakes her hand. ‘Chloe, could you take a picture. Bit of publicity for the shop.’
Rachel holds out her phone and Tate wraps his arm around her shoulder as Chloe takes a few pictures. Rachel thanks them again then Tate leads Chloe back outside and towards the car park.
‘That’s now officially Tate Archer’s favourite art supply shop.’
He laughs and squeezes her hand. ‘Independent places like that are a dying breed. If a photo of me brings more people through the door that’s a good thing. Now, I don’t know about you but I am starving.’
‘You’re always starving. I dread to think how much exercise you have to do to work it all off.’
‘There’s only one kind of exercise I’m interested in.’ He lifts his sunglasses up and wiggles his eyebrows.
‘Oh my God. Do you ever stop?’
He opens the passenger door for her then climbs into the driver’s seat. ‘Nope. Back to the food issue. I know somewhere that does amazing seafood.’
Tate drives them back down the coast to Bray, stopping on the way to
sort out the seafood he promised. He pulls up at the side of the road and a man hurries out of a doorway with a bag which he carefully places on the floor in the back of the truck. Tate thanks him and drives them to down to the seafront. He pulls into the carpark at the promenade overlooking the sea.
Chloe takes a deep breath and laughs. ‘That smells a lot like fish and chips.’
‘Amazing fish and chips thanks very much.’
He reverses into a spot far away from the other cars then grabs his jacket and hoody from the backseat. ‘C’mon, our table is ready.’
He drops the back and helps her onto the load bed. After laying out his sweatshirt and handing her his leather jacket to put on, they sit back against the cab facing the sea. Tate passes her a portion of fish and chips and a bottle of water. Chloe opens the container and takes a deep breath. ‘Smells fantastic, but wasn’t quite what I had in mind when you said amazing seafood.’
He chews on a chip before he answers. ‘I promise I will take you to a fancy restaurant at some stage. I just want to be alone with you right now.’
‘This is perfect, Tate. Really.’ After one chip, Chloe has to agree with his choice of dinner. Who needs fancy restaurants when they have this? Eating fresh fish and chips by the sea in the back of Tate’s truck is so much better. At least like this they’re still relatively inconspicuous. They’re just like a half dozen other couples doing the same thing. No one is giving them a second look. Well, apart from the two women parked a few spaces down from them. Chloe smiles as she eats a chip. ‘I think you’ve been spotted.’
Tate looks over at the other car and snorts. ‘Yep. Jeez, their we’re-not-really-staring look needs a little work.’
Chloe laughs and picks up another chip. ‘Do you think they want a chip?’
‘They can fuck off.’
‘I don’t think that’s going to happen. It looks like they’re arguing over who’s going to come over.’
Tate glances over at the car again and groans. ‘Damn it. You’re right. Okay. You stay here. I’m going to sort them out before they well and truly ruin my dinner.’ He wipes his hands on his jeans and smiles at Chloe. ‘No ketchup on my face?’