Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the unfamiliar driveway of a vast estate. At the gate, she gave both their names. The gate swung open and she drove up the lane.
What are we doing here?
She was too busy finding her way to the airstrip behind the modern-styled mansion to read his message.
“Jess?” he grabbed her arm.
“Relax, sweetheart. Flying will get us there faster.”
“Flying?”
“Shh. Dare said we could borrow his jet. And his pilot. Good thing. I don’t know how to fly. Do you?”
“His jet?”
“Well, it actually belongs to Exodus End, but they park it on Dare’s airstrip. Since they’re touring by bus this month, it’s not getting much airtime. He said we could use it.”
“Since when does Dare have an airstrip?”
“I dunno. Jace suggested it.”
“Jace?” Had Jessica ever even spoken to Jace?
“Yes, Jace. Apparently, Jace and Dare are pretty close friends. And your band mates have some kind of bet going. I’m not sure where Dare fits into their scheme.”
Sed’s brow furrowed. Bet? “What bet?”
She grinned. “Like I’d tell you that. I wouldn’t want Brian and Trey to win.” She winked at him and parked the car near the hangar. A black jet with Exodus End’s band logo painted on the side awaited their arrival. What in the hell was his woman up to?
***
Jessica sat in the beige leather airplane seat and stowed her purse under her feet. She knew she was gawking, but couldn’t help it. The six luxurious seats in the cabin were arranged so that each pair faced its partner. There was a sofa. A wide screen TV. Was that a wet bar? Her gaze darted from one extravagance to the next.
Sed took the seat across from her and fastened his seat belt. The pilot, dressed in ripped black jeans and an Exodus End T-shirt, looked less like a pilot and more like a roadie. Or a fan. He wandered through the cabin to speak to them. “It’s a short flight. We should be there in less than an hour and a half. The rest-room is aft.” He grinned at their clueless expressions. “Meaning to the back.”
Jessica spotted a door in a gleaming wood panel at the back of the plane.
“The galley is only partially stocked,” the pilot continued, “but there’s beer in the fridge. Maybe some pretzels and nuts in the cabinet. I dunno.”
“Ice?” Sed asked hoarsely.
Jessica scowled. She still didn’t think his voice was up to doing an entire live show. He should be in bed. Resting. Not gallivanting around San Francisco so she could surprise him with some over-the-top marriage proposal.
“Yeah, there’s crushed ice in the freezer. Dude, I heard about what happened to you onstage last week. Is your voice okay?”
Sed nodded resolutely.
“I’ll get you some ice.” Jessica stood and moved to the galley area near the front of the jet. It had marble countertops, for crying out loud. Apparently, Exodus End was doing very well. Jessica dispensed some ice chips into a clear plastic cup, which had their band logo on the side (for crying out loud), and returned to Sed’s side.
He smiled in gratitude when she handed him the cup, and then he shook some ice into his mouth. His eyes drifted closed in bliss.
Poor baby.
“…so they decided if they’re going to tour the world next year, they might as well buy a jet. Plus Dare is dating some chick in Hawaii. Like there aren’t enough gorgeous women in California for him to bone. So we’re in the air whenever he stops by home and Max keeps getting pissed off ’cause Dare’s using the jet for his personal entertainment,” the roadie/pilot jabbered. “I never thought I’d be flying a jet for Exodus End. And now for the Sed Lionheart. Fuckin’ sweet!”
“Is Max going to be pissed that Dare let us borrow the band’s jet?” Jessica asked. It felt kind of strange talking about the lead singer of Exodus End like she knew him. She didn’t. Like most people on the planet she knew of Maximilian Richardson, but that wasn’t the same thing.
“Dare won’t give a shit. It’s Dare.” The pilot spread his arms wide as if that explained everything. He burst into laughter, which eventually ended in a snort. “Besides, vocalists and lead guitarists always butt heads. It’s some unspoken rule. I think it has something to do with their enormous egos.” The guy’s eyes widened and he glanced down at Sed. “I didn’t mean you and Sinclair.”
Sed shrugged and shook more ice into his mouth. “We butt heads on occasion.”
The dude checked his watch. “Time to hit the road, or the sky, I suppose,” he said. “Where the f**k is Jordan? You can’t fly a plane without a pilot.”
“I thought you were our pilot,” Jessica said.
“Copilot. I don’t have enough flight hours. No worries. Jordan is awesome. She used to fly a Harrier in the Royal Navy.”
She used to fly a Harrier?
An attractive blonde dressed like a pilot (thank God) in a trim blue skirt suit and doofusey pill-shaped hat entered the plane and poked the copilot in the shoulder. “Did you do the safety check, Lee?” She spoke with a strong British accent.
“Yep, this bird is ready to fly.”
“Good.” Her eyes met Sed’s and then Jessica’s. Her brusqueness vanished as she smiled warmly. “Sit back and relax, friends. We’ll have you to your destination shortly.”
Jordan turned and strode to the cockpit at the front of the plane. Jessica returned to her seat and fastened her seat belt.
“I’ll close off the cockpit and give you two a little privacy.” Lee winked at Sed and offered his palm for five. “Mile high club, baby.”
Sed indulged the guy by slapping his hand and then shook more ice into his mouth.
“You’ll need to keep your seat belts fastened during takeoff,” Lee informed them and then headed for the cockpit. He slid a wooden panel shut, sealing the cabin from the front of the plane.
“Is the ice helping?” Jessica asked Sed.
He blinked.
“Are you up for this?”
He checked his crotch, adjusting his jeans to allow room for expansion. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be all the way up.”
She shook her head at him. “I meant this day trip. You should probably be resting up for your concert tomorrow. I feel guilty.”
“You feel guilty for fulfilling all my fantasies?”
“Yes. Please rest your voice.”
What are we doing here?
She was too busy finding her way to the airstrip behind the modern-styled mansion to read his message.
“Jess?” he grabbed her arm.
“Relax, sweetheart. Flying will get us there faster.”
“Flying?”
“Shh. Dare said we could borrow his jet. And his pilot. Good thing. I don’t know how to fly. Do you?”
“His jet?”
“Well, it actually belongs to Exodus End, but they park it on Dare’s airstrip. Since they’re touring by bus this month, it’s not getting much airtime. He said we could use it.”
“Since when does Dare have an airstrip?”
“I dunno. Jace suggested it.”
“Jace?” Had Jessica ever even spoken to Jace?
“Yes, Jace. Apparently, Jace and Dare are pretty close friends. And your band mates have some kind of bet going. I’m not sure where Dare fits into their scheme.”
Sed’s brow furrowed. Bet? “What bet?”
She grinned. “Like I’d tell you that. I wouldn’t want Brian and Trey to win.” She winked at him and parked the car near the hangar. A black jet with Exodus End’s band logo painted on the side awaited their arrival. What in the hell was his woman up to?
***
Jessica sat in the beige leather airplane seat and stowed her purse under her feet. She knew she was gawking, but couldn’t help it. The six luxurious seats in the cabin were arranged so that each pair faced its partner. There was a sofa. A wide screen TV. Was that a wet bar? Her gaze darted from one extravagance to the next.
Sed took the seat across from her and fastened his seat belt. The pilot, dressed in ripped black jeans and an Exodus End T-shirt, looked less like a pilot and more like a roadie. Or a fan. He wandered through the cabin to speak to them. “It’s a short flight. We should be there in less than an hour and a half. The rest-room is aft.” He grinned at their clueless expressions. “Meaning to the back.”
Jessica spotted a door in a gleaming wood panel at the back of the plane.
“The galley is only partially stocked,” the pilot continued, “but there’s beer in the fridge. Maybe some pretzels and nuts in the cabinet. I dunno.”
“Ice?” Sed asked hoarsely.
Jessica scowled. She still didn’t think his voice was up to doing an entire live show. He should be in bed. Resting. Not gallivanting around San Francisco so she could surprise him with some over-the-top marriage proposal.
“Yeah, there’s crushed ice in the freezer. Dude, I heard about what happened to you onstage last week. Is your voice okay?”
Sed nodded resolutely.
“I’ll get you some ice.” Jessica stood and moved to the galley area near the front of the jet. It had marble countertops, for crying out loud. Apparently, Exodus End was doing very well. Jessica dispensed some ice chips into a clear plastic cup, which had their band logo on the side (for crying out loud), and returned to Sed’s side.
He smiled in gratitude when she handed him the cup, and then he shook some ice into his mouth. His eyes drifted closed in bliss.
Poor baby.
“…so they decided if they’re going to tour the world next year, they might as well buy a jet. Plus Dare is dating some chick in Hawaii. Like there aren’t enough gorgeous women in California for him to bone. So we’re in the air whenever he stops by home and Max keeps getting pissed off ’cause Dare’s using the jet for his personal entertainment,” the roadie/pilot jabbered. “I never thought I’d be flying a jet for Exodus End. And now for the Sed Lionheart. Fuckin’ sweet!”
“Is Max going to be pissed that Dare let us borrow the band’s jet?” Jessica asked. It felt kind of strange talking about the lead singer of Exodus End like she knew him. She didn’t. Like most people on the planet she knew of Maximilian Richardson, but that wasn’t the same thing.
“Dare won’t give a shit. It’s Dare.” The pilot spread his arms wide as if that explained everything. He burst into laughter, which eventually ended in a snort. “Besides, vocalists and lead guitarists always butt heads. It’s some unspoken rule. I think it has something to do with their enormous egos.” The guy’s eyes widened and he glanced down at Sed. “I didn’t mean you and Sinclair.”
Sed shrugged and shook more ice into his mouth. “We butt heads on occasion.”
The dude checked his watch. “Time to hit the road, or the sky, I suppose,” he said. “Where the f**k is Jordan? You can’t fly a plane without a pilot.”
“I thought you were our pilot,” Jessica said.
“Copilot. I don’t have enough flight hours. No worries. Jordan is awesome. She used to fly a Harrier in the Royal Navy.”
She used to fly a Harrier?
An attractive blonde dressed like a pilot (thank God) in a trim blue skirt suit and doofusey pill-shaped hat entered the plane and poked the copilot in the shoulder. “Did you do the safety check, Lee?” She spoke with a strong British accent.
“Yep, this bird is ready to fly.”
“Good.” Her eyes met Sed’s and then Jessica’s. Her brusqueness vanished as she smiled warmly. “Sit back and relax, friends. We’ll have you to your destination shortly.”
Jordan turned and strode to the cockpit at the front of the plane. Jessica returned to her seat and fastened her seat belt.
“I’ll close off the cockpit and give you two a little privacy.” Lee winked at Sed and offered his palm for five. “Mile high club, baby.”
Sed indulged the guy by slapping his hand and then shook more ice into his mouth.
“You’ll need to keep your seat belts fastened during takeoff,” Lee informed them and then headed for the cockpit. He slid a wooden panel shut, sealing the cabin from the front of the plane.
“Is the ice helping?” Jessica asked Sed.
He blinked.
“Are you up for this?”
He checked his crotch, adjusting his jeans to allow room for expansion. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be all the way up.”
She shook her head at him. “I meant this day trip. You should probably be resting up for your concert tomorrow. I feel guilty.”
“You feel guilty for fulfilling all my fantasies?”
“Yes. Please rest your voice.”
