Page 11 of Rock Giant

That brought him to a halt.He turned his head to regard her, unused to being a person that anyone looked for.“Really?Who?”

“Didn’t leave a name.Looked like she was channelling Siouxsie Sioux circa 1982.”

Chair sorted, Lyra pulled her laptop onto her knee, while Paul chewed over possibilities.The description narrowed it to any one of a number of people, most of whom, if he was being totally honest, he wasn’t desperate to see.That is, he’d love to see them, but his bowels weren’t so happy with the notion.“I’ll keep an eye open.If she turns up again, you could always point her at the bus.”

“I could, but as Graham is keen to remind me at every opportunity, I’m not your manager—”

“Just a splendid human being.”

He startled a grin out of her.She shook her head.“And I’m not in the habit of pointing random ladies at rock stars.Nothing good ever comes of it.You’re all bad news.”

“Me?”He turned his hand towards his chest.“Bad news?”

“The worst sort.”

He didn’t take it personally.He knew she was generalising, and likely she’d seen enough during her years in the business and as a kid on the road with her dad to have solid evidence for the opinion.“Later, Lyra.”He gave her a salute.

“Later, Mr Reed.”

He’d barely gone twelve paces before said Siouxsie Sioux wannabe materialised.Although to be fair, he’d have said Patricia Morrison rather than Siouxsie.

“Well, if it isn’t Paul Reed in the flesh,” said the woman.“Found you, you elusive bugger.”

She was accompanied by another figure he knew only too well.

The sun caught him straight in the eyes leaving him temporarily blinded to the waif he nevertheless opened his arms to.She dived into his embrace, legs wrapped around his hips, clinging on tight for a solid minute.There was barely anything to her, hardly a weight in his arms, but the press of her lips against his cheek was real, as was the familiar jasmine scent of her, and that made him smile.

“Hello, E.How are you doing?”he said after he’d started to feel rather like a stately oak being assaulted by a druid.

“Do you know how many laps of this dung heap I’ve done trying to find your giantness?”

“No more than two, I reckon.”

She tipped her head back to look at him, legs still wrapped around his waist as she clung to him like a baby monkey.“Four.Four laps.I’ve been heckled, I’ve been propositioned, I have the names of three guys who can get me anything, and had the worst tofu burger I’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering.”

“It was like toasted carpet with a side of woolly bears,” her companion added.

“Eloise.”He acknowledged her with a nod, but she leaned in for a kiss, even though he still had Elspeth in his arms.No doubt he now had a black lip print on his jaw.

“Tell me your brekkie was equally shit,” Elspeth said.

“Spook cooked.Thus, it was perfection.”He smacked his lips in appreciation.

Elspeth groaned in frustration.

Eloise gave a sigh.“To be expected, I suppose.The rest of the man’s divine, so, of course his cooking is too.Although, he’s also now taken, if the gossips are to be believed.”She gave a sorrowful sigh.“Dish, Paul.I mean, what’s that about?I thought you were putting in a good word for me.”She crooked one sharply winged eyebrow.

“For you?”he gasped in mock horror as Elspeth finally relinquished her grip on him and slithered down his body onto terra firma.“I swear it was Sev who asked.I gave him the full spiel, not that he bit.”

“You did not mistake me for my sister,” Eloise huffed, then poked his midriff, where his babydoll fit T-shirt was showing an inch of skin between its hem and the waistband of his jeans.“Still bouncy, I see.”

“Yup, and you’re still—”

“Fantastic.Gorgeous.And the fairest of the three.”

He laughed along with her.As one of triplets, there was always a competition of some fashion being waged between her and her sisters.They hadn’t seen one another in a hot minute, not since the birthday get together his folks had organised right around the time Spook took his leave of absence.He’d aged another year since then.But that was time for you, it had a way of eating up moments, so before you knew it, that promise to catch-up was at least eighteen months overdue.

“So, how are you doing?”