Rocking Standby
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
ROCKING
STANDBY
A Reckless Release novel by
Cassandra Lawson
Copyright ©2017 Cassandra Lawson
All Rights Reserved
Cover designed by Desiree DeOrto
Proofreading by Kim Ginsberg
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events are creations of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by federal law enforcement agencies and is punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also by Cassandra Lawson
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Author’s Note
About The Author
Also by Cassandra Lawson
Love Without Batteries Series
Dirty at 30
Naughty at 30
Sultry at 30
Moon Virus Series
Raven’s Blood
Embrace the Heat
Seducing Death
Shattered Restraint
Impulsive Destiny
Untamed Winter
Psy-Vamp Series
Vampires and Vixens
Safe Hex With a Vampire
Vampires Prefer Blondes
The Vampire Will See You Now
Wanton with a Vampire
Vampire in Geek’s Clothing
Wicked Crazy Vampire Love
Spells That Bind Series
Sinfully Spellbound
Shamelessly Spellbound
Seductively Spellbound
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Kari, Levenia, and Ria for your honest critiques. You ladies are always there to help me work out the kinks in each book. I also want to thank my beautiful daughters, Seramina and Jilliana, for being patient and supportive when I need time to write. I love you, girls!
Chapter 1
Gage
“The best I could arrange is standby on a two-thirty flight heading into Oakland. If you make it to Oakland on time, you’re booked on a four-thirty flight from there to Portland,” Madi explained.
“Standby? Seriously, Madi, there has to be an available flight out of here,” I said in desperation. “Can I transfer at a different airport?” If things worked out, this would be an improvement over the nine-thirty flight I’d booked, but I’d been hoping she’d find me a confirmed seat.
“Don’t you think I already tried those options?” I could picture her eyebrow arched in question. It was a dumb question. Madi was incredibly efficient. She’d likely checked all options, some I’d never consider.
“Sorry,” I said on a sigh. “I really do appreciate you doing this for me. This definitely isn’t part of your job.”
“I know you appreciate it, and I’m sorry I can’t give you better news,” she began. “You are spoiled, Gage Addison,” she added with a laugh.
She was right. I was spoiled. Since my band, Reckless Release, had signed with a major record label six months ago, I’d quickly gotten used to living like a rock star. Technically, I wasn’t that famous yet. There was no private jet, but I was used to flying first class when I visited my mom in Portland. Waiting on standby for a coach seat on a crowded flight was definitely not something I wanted to deal with, especially when I was already stressed out.
“Don’t tell me you’d be excited about flying coach,” I told her.
Amelia Madison, or Madi as we all called her, was our business manager. We’d hired her when we started making good money. It wasn’t only Madi’s successful career that clued me in to the fact that she’d never flown coach. Amelia Madison was the daughter of a wealthy tech mogul and the wife of a successful corporate lawyer.
“I’m not the one who insisted on flying up to Portland last minute,” she pointed out. “Be glad I like you and the rest of the band enough to take care of this for you.”
“You are incredible, Madi,” I said with feeling. “When are you going to leave your husband and run away with me?”
Every member of the band agreed, Madi was irreplaceable. She was more than our business manager; she was our friend. Her husband was also great. I’d expected him to ha
ve a stick up his ass, but he was actually an okay guy who didn’t mind when one of us proposed to Madi—something that happened at least once a week. Usually, it was Xander, our lead singer. The tradition had started the day he discovered she could make waffles.
She snorted. “As I’ve told you all several times, the only band member I’d consider leaving my husband for is Harley.”
“She’s crazy,” I began. “You wouldn’t really choose Harley over me, would you?”
“She’s the only one who could offer me something Ethan can’t,” she stated.
I chuckled. “Fine. Remind me that your husband is more successful than I am.”
She snorted. “That’s not why I stay with him, but we don’t have time to talk about my husband’s many fine qualities. You need to get off this phone and rush your rocker ass through security.”
“Thanks again, Madi,” I began. “I definitely owe you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she replied. “You still aren’t on a flight. You should get off the phone and hurry to the gate.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
She was right about me needing to get off the call for more than one reason. My phone battery was about to die.
I had my baseball cap pulled low to conceal my face as I made my way through security and hurried to my gate. It was crazy that people recognized me. Normally, I didn’t mind getting stopped. Seriously, it was awesome having people tell me they loved my music. Today, I’d barely make it to the gate on time without any extra stops.
With the upcoming tour, I didn’t have time for a trip to Portland, but my mom needed me. She wasn’t always stable enough to act like a responsible adult, and she’d sounded off when I’d talked to her. Though she’d always been good at taking her medication, she had episodes where she needed inpatient psychiatric care.
During one of her longest stretches living at home, she’d done a good job of raising me and my half-brother, Colin. That said a lot about how great my mom was. Colin wasn’t my mom’s son. She’d divorced my dad after learning of Colin’s existence. More accurately, she’d divorced my dad after learning of his long-standing affair and secret love child. After Colin’s mom died, he was stuck with my dad. That isn’t a good place for any child. He’d come home with me from a visit to my dad’s and stayed for five years. That had been my mom’s longest stretch of sanity.
When she’d called to tell me it was urgent I come home, I’d immediately started planning my trip. It might be nothing, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d tried to get her to move closer to me, but she refused to leave her condo. My mom didn’t like change. Normally, my aunt would stop by to check on her, but she was out of town, meaning I was the only one available.
After making my way through security, I tried my mom’s number again, hoping to get a better idea of what was going on. This last call would kill my battery.
“Hello,” she answered in a tired voice.
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her.
“Are you on your way, Gage?” she asked in a more urgent tone.
“I have a standby ticket on a flight to Oakland. From there, I’ll connect to a Portland flight.”
“Standby?” she asked. “What if they don’t have any extra seats?”
“I won’t be there until after midnight if that happens,” I admitted.
“Can’t you use your influence to get someone bumped from the flight?” she demanded.
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t do that,” I said with a sigh. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I need to show you,” she insisted.
“Send me a picture,” I coaxed.
“You need to see this in person,” she argued. “I’ll see you soon.”
There was no holding back my sigh of frustration when my mom abruptly ended the call. It looked like I’d have to wait until I got to Portland to figure out what was going on.
Chapter 2
Bentley
So much for my vacation. Technically, it was a training seminar, but it definitely seemed like a vacation. Who wouldn’t enjoy getting paid to stay in a five star hotel? I was certain my boss had insisted I attend this laid-back seminar to make up for the long hours I’d been putting in. With only six hours of training each day, I’d had plenty of time to relax. I wasn’t surprised that it was being cut short. They definitely needed to hire someone to take over part of my responsibilities.
I settled into my seat with a sigh, grateful to have found a place to stash my carry-on bag above my seat when I’d boarded with the last group. It was tempting to grab the aisle seat and let someone else deal with the middle, but I decided against it. The lady in the window seat seemed engrossed in her book. I figured it would be a quiet flight.
As I was about to put my purse under the seat in front of me, my phone buzzed, so I grabbed it. Since the call was from my mom, I sent it to voicemail. I know that makes me seem like a horrible daughter, but it was next to impossible to get my mom off the phone. If I answered her call, I’d have an irritable flight attendant ordering me to put my phone away as my mom continued to talk. I leaned forward to stash my purse.
“The last open seat is right over here,” a friendly flight attendant said, directing someone to the seat beside me.
“Thank you for your help,” my new seatmate replied softly. His long legs encased in faded denim were all I could see.
Inhaling, his musky cologne wrapped around me, and I nearly shuddered. He smelled fantastic, and he had a nice voice. I was almost afraid to look up. I preferred imagining some hot guy next to me. A hot nerdy guy in glasses and an expensive suit would be my first choice for fantasy material. From what I could already make out, the suit wasn’t going to happen. Fantasies of a hot Scotsman in a kilt were also dashed, both from the jeans and the lack of accent.
“Are you okay down there?” he asked, reminding me I’d been leaning forward for much longer than necessary.
I sat up and smiled with my eyes on my lap, partly because I was a little embarrassed that I’d been bent forward fantasizing about a sexy nerd or a Scotsman. That thought made me wonder why I hadn’t considered a hot, nerdy Scotsman. I almost sighed at the image of a sex god in glasses and a kilt. “Yeah, I zoned out,” I explained.
“That’s good,” he replied. “I was starting to worry you’d passed out down there.”
When I looked over at him, my eyes scanned across his lap first. “Oh my!” I exclaimed, my gaze quickly moving to his face.
Chapter 3
Gage
It seemed the woman at my side recognized me. With wide green eyes, she reached forward again and tugged out her purse. I was prepared for her to hand me something to sign. What she did instead was toss a lightweight sweater onto my lap.
What the fuck? I’d had panties thrown at me, but never sweaters.
This was a new one. At my expression of confusion, she explained, “You have a huge hole in the crotch of your jeans.”
I blinked twice, not at all sure how to respond. Instead of being my usually suave self, I asked, “You were looking at my junk?” I could have smacked myself as soon as the words left my mouth.
“Not intentionally,” she insisted.
“How does one accidentally check out a guy’s junk?” Things were getting worse. I seemed incapable of saying anything that didn’t make me sound like an asshole.
“If you’re going to be rude, I’ll take my sweater back,” she warned, her hand reaching out to snatch it off my lap.
I chuckled and caught her hand. “Don’t take the sweater away. I promise I’ll behave.”
She pulled her hand back and smiled at me. That smile hit me like a gut punch. She was definitely not my type. I had a thing for model-thin blondes. The woman sitting beside me had an impressive figure, soft curves that could easily make a man hard. I’d never gone for the girl-next-door type. As if the heart-shaped face framed by curly brown hair that rested just below her shoulders wasn’t en
ough, she also had freckles. Her green eyes were alight with humor.
“You’d better reach under there and put your seatbelt on,” she advised.
I’d been staring at my girl-next-door instead of paying attention to what was going on around me. Looking away, I fastened my seatbelt before pretending to pay attention to the safety instructions from the flight attendant.
After our flight was in the air, I decided I should thank my neighbor for her help. I also wanted to talk to her more. A big part of me wanted to figure out if she was pretending she didn’t recognize me. She seemed sweet and genuine, but that could also be an act.
“Thanks for the loan of the sweater,” I began. “I can’t believe I was in such a hurry, I missed a huge hole in my jeans. You’d think someone would have mentioned it.”
“The hole probably didn’t stand out until you sat down. I’m glad I could help,” she replied. “I have a tendency to hold onto my old jeans until they’re falling apart, too. Luckily, I’ve never had that particular problem.”
“I was going to grab a newer pair, but I hate being uncomfortable on a flight,” I admitted. “It bugs me that my jeans fall apart when they start to get really comfortable.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I have some that look so bad, I only wear them around the house, but I can’t give them up. It seems as soon as they’re finally broken in, they need to be tossed.”
“Ah, so you are at least smart enough to stick to wearing your worn jeans at home,” I told her.
“I’d prefer to avoid having the world see my panties,” she added. “Your situation could be worse.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh. “I might have a seatmate who doesn’t care enough to tell me about the hole in my jeans.”
“You could have also gone commando,” she stated.
I chuckled at her suggestion. That scenario could have ended with pictures of my junk all over the internet. “I’d like to think I would have noticed if the air was hitting things down there.”
“One would hope, but I don’t know you well enough to judge how observant you are,” was her response.
“Good point,” I agreed with a grin. “Since you’re stuck with me for the next hour, I may as well introduce myself. I’m Gage.”
“I’m Bentley,” she replied.
“Bentley?” I asked. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone named Bentley. Do you go by your last name?”