Tangled Up In You: A Rogue Series Novel

by Lara Ward Cosio

  “I know. I’ll do whatever I can. You know that, Conor.”

  “I know, Soph. Thank God for you. And hey, do your best to . . . distract him from all this ‘til I get there.”

  Sophie laughed. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

  Conor smiled. “You know me—always comes back to sex.”

  “We’ll see you soon. Have a safe trip.”

  After ending the call, Conor fell back against the bed, already exhausted.

  “So, you’re leaving?” Colette asked as she sat with him.

  “Yeah. I gotta get back. Not sure how to get the fastest flight—”

  “I texted my agent—she’s booking it for you. She’ll call back in a few minutes to tell you which airline.”

  He sat up and smiled at her. “Thank you, Colette. That was awfully sweet.”

  “That’s where you belong, isn’t it? With Sophie?”

  “And Gavin,” he said, showing his annoyance.

  “I just thought with you calling her honey and talking about sex, she’d be the one you’d need to rush back to.”

  Conor got up and started dressing. He knew Colette had a weird thing with Sophie, both admiring what she had accomplished in the modeling industry and yet feeling competitive with her, but this was something else.

  “You don’t understand what you saw with Gavin, ’cause if you did, you’d know you have no fucking right to pull some jealousy trip right now.”

  “What I understand is that Sophie is the unavailable woman you’re in love with and—”

  “Stop this. You sound like a child trying to speak of adult things of which you have no understanding,” he said sternly. But his entire body was tense over the idea that he was that transparent. “And fuck your agent getting me a flight, too,” he said and strode out.

  He was at the front door when she grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t go like this. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be jealous. I don’t. Please.”

  “I don’t have time for your games,” he said, pulling away from her.

  “Please, Conor,” she said, and the naked pleading in her voice made him stop and look at her.

  “Please, what?”

  “Tell me I didn’t run too hard.”

  He looked into her eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll ring you later, honey. Okay?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Just do me a favor,” she said, wrapping her arm around his neck and pressing her breasts against him.

  “What?”

  “Don’t call any other girl honey. Let me be your honey,” she purred.

  The complete about-face in her attitude toward him was both surprising and a relief. He didn’t want drama.

  “You, honey, are a total mind-fuck,” he told her and she smiled.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  At half past one in the morning, Conor quietly let himself in through the McManus’ unlocked front door. There were no lights on inside, though he saw a glow coming from the back garden. He put his bag down and walked toward the open door that led to the well-manicured yard.

  Gavin was lying in a chaise lounge with his head in Sophie’s lap. The hanging lanterns and outdoor fire pit provided soft, romantic lighting.

  “My whole family,” Gavin said with a pronounced slur. “I don’t understand why my whole family has betrayed me.”

  “Shh,” Sophie said softly before leaning down and pressing her lips to his forehead for a long moment. “Just hold on to me.”

  Conor watched the scene for longer than he knew he should. It was a view into an intensely private and intimate part of their marriage.

  “Well, I’ve made it,” Conor announced, forcing a smile. “Shall we start the real drinking, then?” He held up the bottle of whiskey he had brought.

  Gavin sat up and struggled to his feet. Sophie stood with him and put her arm around his waist to steady him.

  “Aye, Con,” Gavin said slowly. He went to him and wrapped his arms around Conor in a tight hug. “You are my brother, right? You, I can trust with my fucking life.”

  “That’s right, Gav. That’s right,” Conor said.

  “Fuck ’em,” Gavin said and released Conor. He turned his eyes heavenward and shouted, “Fuck you all! I don’t need yous anyway!”

  Conor winced and then looked at Sophie. Her eyes were filled with tears and she looked helpless.

  “I mean,” Gavin continued, this time mumbling to himself, “I never had me Ma in all these years. So what have I lost? Nothing. And Ian—we may be related, but that means nothing. He’s been waiting for this day, waiting to tell the world what he really thinks of me.”

  “You ready for another drink?” Conor asked. “I know I could use one.”

  “Sure, yeah. Why not?” Gavin replied and led the way back inside.

  “You okay, honey?” Conor asked Sophie, taking her hand.

  “Yeah. It’s just hard knowing you can’t do anything to help,” she said.

  “You’re doing everything you can and that’s enough,” he replied and received a quick hug of thanks in return.

  They found Gavin in the living room, passed out on the sofa. He was lying on his back, breathing heavily through his open mouth.

  “Let’s at least turn him on his side,” Conor said, ever conscious of the cliché of a rock musician choking on his own vomit while passed out.

  ~

  “You must be exhausted,” Sophie said.

  They sat at the kitchen table together in the near dark, having left the lights off and with only the outside lanterns for illumination.

  Conor tipped the Redbreast 15-year-old whiskey over one of the tumblers Sophie had brought out, filling it halfway. He then filled the other a quarter full and pushed it toward her.

  “A bit tired, yeah,” he admitted and knocked his glass against hers before downing the contents. He should have savored the drink but he craved the warm buzz he knew it would provide.

  Sophie sipped hers and stifled a cough.

  Conor smiled at her. Though the liquor was of the highest quality, it still went down harshly for her, reminding him that she was a woman of intriguing contradictions, at once sophisticated and innocent. Even when he thought he knew her, she could still surprise him and that kept him wanting more.

  “Colette wanted you to call her when you got in,” Sophie said.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he refilled his glass. “She called you?”

  Sophie laughed, amused. “Yeah, right after you left for the airport. She told me quite pointedly that you two are together.”

  He tossed back his second shot, trying to buy time to sort out how he felt about all of this.

  “She seemed happy, Conor. You think you really like her?”

  “I do, indeed,” he replied honestly. “Though, she’s different than what I’m used to. A bit of a challenge.”

  Sophie nodded and sat back. She absently swirled the remaining whiskey in her tumbler, sinking into her own exhaustion.

  “Thanks for coming back so quickly,” she said. “Gavin thinks the world of you for good reason.”

  “I wish he hadn’t said that thing about trusting me so much.”

  Sophie looked up at him. “Why?”

  He looked at her with eyebrows raised for a long moment, hoping he wouldn’t have to say aloud what they had skirted around for years.

  “Oh, you mean . . . .”

  “Yes, that.”

  “The thing is,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, “it’s just a sexual attraction. So, it’s really pretty harmless.”

  He started to grimace in denial of this characterization before catching himself and acquiescing with a small nod of his head. She had always been quick to accept his attraction to her as nothing more than surface-level.

  “Yeah,” Conor said as he helped himself to more whiskey. “That’s all it is.”

  “And even then, it’s really probably just your defense mechanism to keep from getting close with anyone else.”


  He laughed. “You’re saying I have intimacy issues?”

  She touched his hand and smiled at him playfully. “It’s okay. I hear a lot of men have this problem.”

  He would gladly let her tease him all night long, especially if it meant she would touch him while doing it.

  “I mean, you do have a pretty terrible record with relationships.”

  “You’re judging me based on the wrong criteria. I’ve had the relationships I’ve wanted.”

  “So, that means all you’ve ever wanted is short-term flings with beautiful but vapid girls?”

  “Ouch,” he said and laughed. “They haven’t all been vapid.”

  “But they have been short-term. What’s keeping you from being serious with someone? Afraid you’ll end up compromising you cool, controlled image?”

  “Honey, the whiskey has gone to your head,” he said and she laughed.

  “Probably,” she said.

  He studied her for a moment. It was no wonder after the day she had had of propping up her devastated husband that she looked disheveled and tired. Her blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but several strands had fallen loose. Her eyes lacked their usual shine. At the same time, his heart ached with how beautiful he found her. Then he almost laughed out loud, thinking of the fact that he was starting to feel something for Colette and yet still couldn’t shake what he had for Sophie.

  They sat in easy silence for a good five minutes.

  “Conor?” Sophie said at length.

  “Hmm?”

  “How on earth is he going to get through this?” she asked.

  “He’ll just have to, Sophie. What other choice does he have?”

  She nodded reluctantly, unconvinced. “You’ll stay here tonight? I can make up the guest bedroom for you,” she said.

  “Sure. I’m ready to pass out myself.”

  They went upstairs together and he helped her put fresh sheets on the guest bed.

  “Sleep well,” she told him.

  “You too, honey.”

  After hesitating a moment, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him.

  It was so easy for him to return her embrace, to close his eyes and take in her lovely familiar scent. Just feeling the warmth of her body against his was so sweet he wished it could continue through the night. He had a vision of getting into bed together and holding her while they slept and he longed for it to be real. Though his fantasies for her were still sexual, he just as often desired her for the intimacy of companionship alone.

  “See you in the morning,” she said as she pulled away and left him by himself.

  It took Conor a long while to surrender to sleep that night as his mind raced. He knew he wasn’t doing himself any good by indulging his feelings for Sophie, especially when he now had Colette taking him seriously. In the end, he decided it was best to help Gavin as much as he could and then after that return to a single-minded pursuit of Colette. Because she had the potential to be more than just a distraction, he felt sure he would be doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Breakfast was incongruously jovial. Gavin had, temporarily at least, gained a happy disposition, and he and Conor talked and joked and laughed as if nothing had happened the day before. It made Sophie wonder if the sex they’d had that morning had really been that good.

  Waking early, she had found Gavin in the garden, gathering empty beer bottles from the previous day. Her simple kiss in greeting had ignited a passionate response from him. When she let her surprise show at the aggressive way he reached inside her robe, he told her he needed her, desperation in his voice. She knew he needed a release more than anything and suggested they go their room, but he was too eager. Despite her warning that Conor was upstairs, he backed her against the garden wall, pulled at her panties until they tore away, and fucked her. When he was done, he moved to his knees and pulled her leg over his shoulder to make sure she was satisfied as well.

  It had apparently been exactly what he needed to push past the emotions of the previous day, as he was now enjoying Conor’s story of how frazzled he’d found Shay in New York, and that he’d taken it upon himself to connect him with their pretty waitress at the sushi bar.

  “Did he get the ride?” Gavin asked, suitably amused.

  “He better have. We’ll ask him when he gets here—embarrass the hell out of him,” Conor said.

  “Why don’t you two leave him alone?” Sophie asked, smiling. “Just because he’s not your typical lecherous Irishman doesn’t mean you should harass him.”

  The men laughed.

  “It’s such a shame to see him miss out on all the advantages he has,” Conor said. “I mean, not only is he a good looking kid, but he’s the fucking drummer in the best band in the world. Why wouldn’t he be out every night with a girl or two?”

  “Maybe, because you do enough of that for the whole band!” Sophie said and they laughed again.

  “Nothing wrong with liking sex,” Conor said.

  “I’m with you on that one,” Gavin added. “But, I hear from my friends at the tabloids that you’re committed to one girl in particular now.”

  Conor grinned. “Don’t think I’d go that far with it, mate. But she has potential.”

  “Well, when I talked to her yesterday, she sounded positively in love,” Sophie said.

  “In that moment she may have been. She’s a bit of a mind-fuck. Would you agree, Sophie?”

  “She likes attention, that’s for sure,” she conceded.

  “As long as you’re getting fucked the other way, does it matter?” Gavin asked with a laugh.

  “There is something to be said about knowing who you’re dealing with and what they want. But, it’s fun enough for now.”

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Sophie said. “Did you ever call her last night?”

  “Fuck. I forgot. I’ll bet I’m in for it!” Conor said, smiling as he got up to go make the call.

  Once alone, Sophie turned to Gavin and took his hand into hers.

  “What do you want to do today, baby?” she asked.

  “This. This is all I want—to be with my best friends. Okay, darlin’?”

  She nodded before leaning over to kiss him.

  ~

  They kept the television and phones off and spent most of the day in the back garden, soaking up the rare warmth of sunshine. The boys stripped down to their shorts and to both of their unspoken delight, Sophie put on a bikini. They lounged while drinking margaritas and chatting aimlessly.

  The reporters kept themselves off the property lines after Sophie had called the police the first day to have them removed as trespassers. But they hadn’t given up entirely, and instead set up camp in the street. Fortunately, they were unable to peer over the high back garden walls.

  It was midday when they heard a commotion coming from the street, the paparazzi signaling the arrival of someone at their door.

  “I’ll get it, guys,” Sophie said.

  “More margaritas while you’re at it, please,” Conor said with a grin.

  Sophie pulled on a sundress and headed to the front door where someone was knocking hard.

  Expecting to find Shay, she swung the door open and was surprised to see Ian instead. He was shielding himself with a newspaper from the dozen or so photographers and camera crews still lingering in the nearby street. Ian was an older, heavier, and less attractive version of Gavin. Clothes were always ill-fitting on him and he attempted to tame his unruly hair with too much gel, leaving him looking greasy. Sophie had never bonded with him, in large part because Ian rarely accepted her invitations to dinner parties or other events. And when she did see him, she instinctively recoiled from the negative energy radiating from him. He was someone who could suck the life out of a room and was, therefore, the exact opposite of his brother.

  Before she could say a word, he let himself in and shut the door.

  “Jesus, I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, exasperated.

/>   “What are you doing here, Ian?” Sophie asked.

  “I’ve come to see my brother, of course,” he replied with a degree of casualness she found galling.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “Look, he’s in no shape to see you now. You have to understand that he’s hurting and you being here will only make it worse.”

  “Nonsense, my dear. Just lead me to him.”

  Sophie appraised him for a moment. He had gained weight since she had seen him last and it had added to his usual disheveled appearance. At the same time, he returned her stare with a look of stubborn determination that told her it was no use in trying to dissuade him from seeing Gavin.

  “Fine. I warned you though,” she said and started toward the back garden.

  He followed closely behind her. As they stepped out into the sun, he held his hand to his brow in an effort to adjust to the light.

  And in that moment, Gavin saw who his visitor was and jumped to his feet, his entire body tense with hostility.

  “Look now, calm yourself,” Ian said, holding up both hands.

  “I’ll tell you once,” Gavin said, “get out of my house.”

  “I knew it, I bloody well knew it,” Ian said in disgust. “You’re putting this whole thing on me, aren’t you? As if you’re not the very one who set this whole disaster up!”

  “Fuck off, Ian. There’s no way you’re going to turn this around on me just so you can get by. You know damn well what you did was wrong.”

  “And what was it I did, anyway? I told the truth—something you should have tried from the beginning. You wouldn’t have been in this mess if you had.”

  Gavin relaxed his posture and his shoulders sagged beneath the weight of his brother’s words.

  “What’d you come here for?” he asked quietly.

  “To tell you to get this thing under control, if only for Da’s sake. He’s being humiliated by this.”

  “Funny, that. Since the focus seems to, in fact, be on me. And because of you, my band has to suffer even worse for it.”

  “What, the lyrics shite?” Ian asked with a smirk. “Give us a break. Like it was an original concept, or something to figure not every word was about Sophie. Yeah, like you’re so bleedin’ deep they needed me to clue them in!”