I blink through the droplets of water on my lashes when he rises above me. I grab his cock as it juts against me and move my hand rapidly. He throws his head back on a moan, but opens his eyes when he erupts on my stomach seconds later. I move my hands to rub it against my skin, but the water quickly washes the evidence away.
Batty helps me sit up and we catch our breath with little smirks on our faces. “This dating stuff is fun,” I say when I can speak again. Batty rolls his head as he laughs.
“With you, yes.”
“When’s the last time you had a girlfriend, Finnigan?”
“Finn.”
“Finnigan.” I get a mock glare and an eye roll.
“Years ago. I haven’t had time in my life.”
“And you do now?” I ask.
“Nah,” he says on a sigh. When his eyes come back to me, they look extremely tired. “Now I make time.” My heart pounds with a mixture of panic and a strange hope.
Striving for levity, I push his shoulder, making him rock to the side. “Oh, stop it. You’ll make a girl blush, Finnigan.”
“Finn.”
“Batty.” He sighs.
“I would pay a lot of money to see you blush. You’re so pale, I bet it would make you look like a lobster.”
“Hey!” I sit up and yell. Batty curls an arm around my neck with a smile and kisses the side of my head before he pushes me away again.
“JK, babe. JK.”
“JK?”
“Just kidding, isn’t that what the kids are calling it these days?” I sigh.
“Oh, Batty.”
Chapter 18
MONDAY
I yawn and grab the Starbucks cup from the holder as I drive over another hill. Batty and I stayed up way too late, but damn it was worth it. I shiver just thinking about it. Now it’s insane o’clock in the morning and I’m driving to Los Rancheros for Daniel’s part of the audition videos. Mine was filmed at dusk to catch the sunset on the water. His is early because he has a flight to catch in the afternoon.
The drive is straight north and about two hours. He lives in some gated community that’s a bitch to get into, even with a permission slip from the mister to enter. They even search my car. By the time I get to his house, I’ve seen enough farms to give me hives.
At Daniel’s personal gate, I get buzzed in and have to sigh at the cows dotting his property. A country singer, with cows. Shocker. I’m surprised I can’t smell them when I step out of my car, but know I’m late. The door is open, with people all around setting up lights and carrying cables around. I dodge around until I see a familiar face.
“Fandy. Save me,” I say to get his attention. The rocker turns with a smirk and gestures to the two story windows showcasing a kids play set, barn and the cows I drove past to get here.
“It’s enough to make you nauseous, right?”
“Fuck yeah, it is. Who would live out here?”
“Little ears!” I hear behind me and turn to see Daniel walking with a little boy. “And Deklan lives down the street, so it’s not just the hillbillies out here,” he explains, referring to the lead singer of the same band that Fandy is in.
“Aw. There goes the neighborhood,” I joke and Fandy laughs with a nod to his head in agreement.
“Sadie, this is Ollie. He’s three.” I lean down on my leather spiked boots and hold a hand out to him.
“How you doin’, buddy?” He’s slow to take my hand, but I barely notice because the similarities are unmistakable. He’s a mini Daniel Walsh. “Well, there’s no denying that one, is there?”
Daniel laughs and shakes his head. “Dude. Long story.”
“Alright everyone, if we can get you on the couch, we want to take some test shots.” Some producer with a headset says, grabbing our attention. Ollie gets swept up by a woman almost as tall as I am and they make their way upstairs.
I sink into the plush couch and moan. “Oh, yeah. Hillbillies have comfy furniture.”
Daniel laughs—the guy is always laughing, I’ve noticed. “It’s to sooth our bruised asses after a long day on the trail, darlin’,” he says in a southern drawl. I point my finger at him.
“That’s good shit. I bet that got you loads of action, am I right?” Fandy turns to look over his shoulder and leans closer. “Before the wife, of course.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. It still works on her every time.”
We all laugh and the time flies after that. The contestants are hit and miss. The song choices mostly repetitive and there’s no alcohol in sight.
“You should have had a driver, Sadie. Way to bring us all down,” Fandy says. I nod my head and sigh.
“I know. But I thought it was so early in the morning, no way would I need it.” I wave to the flat screen hooked up to the laptop on the coffee table. “I had no idea.”
“Next time, don’t drive yourself.” Fandy holds out his tea glass to me and I clink mine to it.
“Noted.”
We spend hours upon hours scouring YouTube for undiscovered talent. Some kids are in their bedrooms, backpacks hanging on the door handles. Some are live performances in coffee shops. Others actually have recording equipment.
“See this guy, he has all of the right equipment. Why not add a beat to it?” Danny asks. He plays the video again and leans forward to pound a beat with his hands on the coffee table.
Fandy leans closer in excitement and pulls out his phone to tap out a rhythm on an app that sounds like a guitar. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, man. Add in some of this right here.”
I just stand up and start dancing as cheesily as I can. I move my fists to my chest and back over and over, spinning in a circle as we all laugh. When the song gets to the popular Oh oh ohs, we all lean our heads back and yell it out, collapsing back on the couch to laugh. We might be slightly delusional after five hours of this.
I sigh and giggle again after we’ve quieted down. The video is done and it’s quiet. Fandy pockets his phone as I stack my feet onto the coffee table on top of each other. Daniel speaks first. “You know what I think?”
“I am not cow tipping anything, cowboy. I don’t even know what that means.” Daniel pushes my shoulders.
“Call me Danny, both of you. And I was thinking we should record some shit together.”
“What do you mean, like a band? I’ve got one of those already,” Fandy points out. I raise my hand.
“Yeah and I just got out of mine. Besides what would we call ourselves?”
We all look to the logo on the rug in front of the TV and say in unison, “Triple Threat.”
“Nah,” Danny waves a hand. “Never mind. We just seem to work well together.”
“Maybe we can write together, though. I bet we can come up with some dope songs,” Fandy suggests. I nod.
“I would be down for that if you boys are.”
“Deal?” Danny asks, holding a hand out. I cross my hand across my body to shake it and he holds the other out to Fandy across my body. Fandy holds his other hand out to me so we’re a tangle of arms.
“Cut! That’s a wrap. Great work guys. Judges, please step onto the back porch for your solo interviews.”
We sigh and untangle ourselves.
It’s almost three o’clock when I finally leave the cowboy’s ranch. I’m just trying to figure out if I should have turned back at the alpaca farm, or wait for the chicken crossing sign when my phone rings. My dash tells me it’s Batty. I accept the call.
“Yellow, lover!” I yell over a yawn.
“Sadie, where are you right now?” he asks seriously. Nothing new there.
“I’m passing a goat cheese farm, or ranch, or whatever it is. Shit, I probably should have turned back there. I don’t remember the cheese place.”
“So you’re still in Los Rancheros, then?”
“No, I search out organic goat cheese in my spare time. It’s totally a thing. Ooo, wine!”
“Sadie. Can you focus for a second?”
“Sir, yes. Sir.”
&nb
sp; “I need you to do me a huge favor.”
“I’m liking this so far. Is it sexual? ‘Cause our third date is coming up and I’m open to options.” I hear him sigh and roll my eyes.
“I have a family emergency and don’t have anyone to pick up my kids from school. I’m on my way south right now.” I slam on the brakes, putting skid marks in Mayberry.
“I’m sorry, I think I just had an aneurism. It sounded like you said you wanted me to pick up your children.”
“I did. They’re at Ynes Elementary. It’s right down the street from Los Rancheros.”
“I—you—I don’t have a fucking car for children, Finnigan Brennick!” I yell at my rearview mirror like a lunatic. I seriously feel like I’m losing my mind. I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. I watch a red tractor pass me.
“I’m in the fucking twilight zone, that’s what this is,” I mumble as my heart shatters, realizing that everything I thought I knew is a lie.
I bare my teeth silently and shake my fists at the speakers before slapping them down onto my thighs. “I don’t have a car for kids.” I say it slowly, so that he might understand this time.
“You’re just leaving Daniel’s house, correct? Put my address into your GPS and I’ll give you the code. You can take one of my cars.”
Biting my tongue so that I don’t give into the temptation to rail on him for, oh, I don’t know, sleeping with me for almost half a year and never telling me he had children, I put the car in gear.
He leads me to a gate that’s not iron like most are, but wooden logs. Not what I was expecting.
“I think you gave me the wrong address.”
“If you think that, then you are definitely at the right one. Here’s the code . . .” he rattles off an obscene amount of numbers, and the gate opens.
I eye the paved road with trepidation. Why do I think this is going to change everything? Oh, that’s right, because I had no idea he lived in Los Rancheros, or that he had freaking children. My heart stops when I think about where his wife is. The angel?
I close my eyes at the pain that secret causes me and blink back tears. I clear my throat before speaking again. “I’m here.”
I stare at the one story wooden structure that cannot belong to the Batmobile driving CEO that has shared my bed for so long.
“Great, there’s a keypad beside the garage door. I’ll tell you the code.”
I grab my purse, and hold the cell phone to my ear. Batty gives me a set of numbers that are different than the first. I think. I’m pretty sure.
“There’s a door to the left. Keys should be on the counter.”
“What do I do when I get to the school?”
“Drive up to the pick-up lane. It’ll be the longest line. They’ll be there. Call me when you get back to the house. The kids will know the code for the gate.”
“K,” I mumble through numb lips. I’m in the kitchen, staring at cereal bowls in the sink and a coffee pot set haphazardly on the counter.
I hit the end button, disconnecting the call and push back the urge to scope out the rest of the house. There is a worn Carhartt jacket on a peg by the door that I bring to my nose. It’s his. That spicy scent that clings to my sheets is on this coat that could be ten years old.
Nothing makes sense.
Finally Finn coming March 18, 2015
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24716722-finally-finn
Forgetting Popper (Los Rancheros #3) Page 12