Free Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2) by Vanessa Lennox Page A

laughed.
    “Um, Liam said you were to be trusted, and he’s never wrong,” she said. “Also, it’s Thanksgiving…”
    “Yes?” He asked.
    “Never mind, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.
    “Wait, ma’am,” he said.
    “Fiona,” she answered.
    “Fiona. Please ask me for identification tomorrow morning, okay?” That was possibly the oddest request she had ever heard.
    “Okay, if you insist,” she said.
    “I do,” he said. Liam did warn her in his way.
    “Okay, tomorrow, then,” she said.
    “Will do,” he said and hung up. Okay…
    ***
    “I want to hear about the drunk and disorderly thing you referred to at dinner,” Genna said after her parents were in bed and the kids went off to do their own thing.
    “Yeah, especially if it involves nudity,” Piper piped up.
    “You seem to have a huge capacity for accepting the things I did as a lad, Genna, but eventually you will tire of hearing it and start to think ill thoughts,” Connor was serious and Genna had a guilty pang. He smiled at her and touched her cheek. “But this story is not the one to break your back.”
    “Which one is it, then?” Tate asked and when Ryan and Connor looked at him he shook his head. “No, mates, not that one.”
    “It’s not that bad, Tate-o,” Ryan said with an evil grin. Genna loved his evil grin, those stories were the funniest.
    “By Christ, is this ‘the crossing of the Amstel’?” The three band mates burst out laughing. “Okay then, but the water was cold, keep that in mind. No one likes judgey haters.” More laughter.
    “We were signed by Belladonna Records and were paid real money for the first time in our lives to make music. We cut our first album, Filthy Lucre , and Eammon wanted us to get our name out there. So he had us buy a great big tour bus…” Ryan began and Connor interrupted.
    “Rocinante,” he said.
    “Aye,” Ryan sighed slightly. “Rocinante. That was a great chapter, wasn’t it?” Connor and Tate smiled at him and Christie squeezed his hand.
    “You spent the whole summer away from me, it couldn’t have been that great,” she said.
    “No, that was when I decided I couldn’t live without you, but I also knew I had the best mates a man could have.”
    “That’s all right, then,” Christie said with a stunning smile for her husband. He leaned over and kissed her.
    “You named your bus after Don Quixote’s horse?” Genna asked. Connor loved how she got every single literary reference he ever made, how did she do that? Aping Ryan, he leaned down and kissed her.
    “I was reading it at the time, and we were in Spain, and the poor old bus was way past its prime. Trust me, the name suited,” Connor said to grunts of agreement from the band.
    “I wish Razz was here to tell his part of the story,” Ryan said and Tate chuckled. “We started in the south, we circled Spain and moved through France. You lot found yourselves a pair of American girls in Arles, was it?” Tate shrugged and Connor shook his head.
    “San Sebastian, mine was a Hemingway fanatic.”
    “That’s right, San Sebastian. It was a good thing I had Razz to keep me company.”
    “Get on with the story, mate,” Connor said a little irritated by the topic shift.
    “We weren’t playing venues like we do now, these were small clubs and outdoor festivals where we were supporting the headliner. Mikey drove us and we wrote songs, played cards in the back, drank too much and saw the sights. We slept in these cubbies, couchettes, really, with a wee curtain separating us from the rest of the bus, there was very little privacy,” Ryan said glaring at Connor and Tate.
    “And they were minute, not built for someone my size,” Connor complained.
    “You would have fit in my couchette, lamb,” Ryan said to Christie. She beamed up at him.
    “I remember it being tight, too,” Tate said. “Like a torpedo tube.” Connor was nodding vigorously and laughing.
    “Because you both were sharing it with people,” Ryan