Ch 50 ~ We Can Work It Out

“Shhhh,” Jon breathed in Rachel’s ear.  She had jolted awake the instant he spooned himself around her.  “It’s just me, baby.”

“Mmmm...” she purred.  Her startled body relaxed and she rolled over to press a butterfly kiss against his neck.  He noted that the sinful Las Vegas lingerie was the only barrier between his chest and hers about the time she murmured, “So it is.  Hi there.”

God she felt good.  She was so soft and warm cuddling into his weary flesh.  The head that was tucked just under his nose smelled so good.  So familiar.  So much like home. 

The last few shows, getting a chance to spend time with his folks and his kids in Florida…  It had made the time pass quickly, but it still seemed like forever since he’d seen her.  Touched her.

Jon hooked a finger under her chin, tipping her face to his and murmuring a soft greeting before their mouths touched.  Her lips were so pliable and held that flavor he’d been craving since he last kissed her goodbye.  The flavor that could make him hard as a rock while making the tension in his shoulders melt like butter.  The taste of Rachel.

“Hi there,” he returned, his arm cinching around her waist and snugging her even closer.  His hips rolled into hers, the uncontrollable arousal being sensuously abraded by the satin that prevented him from sliding balls-deep inside her.  “I missed you.”

Her hips took their own turn at rolling before her fingers snaked down to snap open the secret Bat Cave entrance on her teddy.  “I missed you too.”

“Christtt,” he hissed when his length was sheathed in hot, wet velvet.  “This isn’t gonna last long.”

She clenched her inner muscles, sending spasms of need coursing through him.  “Just fuck me,” she whispered, swiping her tongue across his bottom lip.  “Hard.  So I know you’re not another dream.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  Jon gave one hard jerk to her lingerie, lifting it to her waist so that he could clench her backside.  He barely had her steadied before driving in with the most force he could muster lying on his side.

“Harder,” she whimpered at the same time he rolled her to her back and pushed her thighs wider.  Settling between her legs felt better than anything had since the last time he’d been in this same position.

“Take this goddamn thing off.”  Jon shoved at the fabric that was supposed to be enticing, but was nothing more than a nuisance at this point.  It had no more slithered over her head and to the floor than his lips were latched onto her nipple.

“Oh!” she gasped, arching into his voracious mouth.  Her hips squirmed, her muscles clenched, her insides heated against him as he worked the hard pebble against his tongue and nipped at it.  She groaned and bumped her hips upward. 

“I’m gettin’ there,” he chuckled, the expelled breath pebbling her nipple even tighter.  With a slow rotation of his hips, he savored the feel of her buttery soft skin against his as he observed, “I think you really did miss me.”

“You know I did,” she panted, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and her heels into his buttocks.  “Now move!”

Hard fingertips burrowed into soft hips and he plowed into her with everything he had.  “Like that?”  He pounded again, grunting, “That what you want?”

“Yeah.  Ohmigod, yes!”

It took about three hard pumps before sweat started to bead on his forehead.  Three more buried-to-the-hilt dives before she screamed and nearly turned inside out with her orgasm.  He should’ve been right behind her, but he couldn’t seem to find that peak.  Maybe he just couldn’t get his fill of her, but he was too lost in the sounds of their flesh meeting, the breathy little moans that she made in the aftermath of her release, the sweet scent that he only found when they were together, the erotic sight of her bouncing breasts beneath him. 

It was overwhelming yet… Not enough…

“Come for me, baby,” she commanded uncharacteristically.  She gave as good as she got in bed, but she was never domineering.  Her fingers knotted in his hair and she pulled his face close, nipping sharply at his bottom lip.  “You know you want to lose it all inside me.  Let it go.”

The inside of his eyelids lit up like the fourth of July. 

“Oh fuckkkkkk…..!”

                                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jon stretched contentedly, his muscles feeling looser than they had in days.  His leg kicked out to Rachel’s side of the bed, but couldn’t find her.  Squinting one eye open, he rolled his head to look for her.

Now where the hell is she?  She should know I’m gonna want her to take care of my morning wood.

He grunted and swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed.  There, he used both hands to scratch his head before shaking the cobwebs away and going in search of his wayward Nubian.

A pit stop later, he followed his nose downstairs and to the kitchen.

“You were gone when I woke up,” he accused when he found her tinkering at the barista machine.

She turned with a smile, her eyes sliding down his naked body to the part that wasn’t quite so wood-y anymore and smirking. 

“Good morning to you, too,” she drawled amusedly.  “I see it’s a clothing optional day.”

“You got a problem with lookin’ at my dick?”

Her laughter made him smile almost as much as the steaming cup of coffee she passed to him.  “Not even a little bit.  You’ve just never strolled into my kitchen naked before.”

The truth was, he’d left his bag downstairs and hadn’t felt like putting on his travel clothes.  He probably could’ve gone rummaging for the workout clothes he’d left here, but he couldn’t remember which drawer they were in.  Besides, a man shouldn’t have to be fully dressed in the privacy of…  Well, not his own home, but close enough.

“Guess this is startin’ to feel like home,” he observed, dropping a kiss against her mouth before dropping his bare butt on a cold kitchen stool and imbibing his second favorite beverage in the world.  “Mmm.  You’re gettin’ pretty handy with that barista machine, Rach.  This is almost as good as mine.” 

“When you weren’t here to make it, I had to learn,” she reasoned taking a sip from her own mug and propping her elbows on the counter.  “I’m glad to know it meets the standards of a coffee snob such as yourself, though.” 

“Almost.  I said it’s almost as good as mine,” he corrected with a chuckle.  Truthfully, the coffee was a cherry on the top of a damn fine morning.  And to think… he had another week of naked coffee time to look forward to before the rat race started all over again.  Even then, it would be only a couple of weeks until she spent the entire month with him in London.

There would be much naked coffee in London. 

“Then you make the coffee tomorrow.”

“Alright.  I will.  That is, if you don’t get up first and leave me naked and alone in bed.”

“Get your very fine ass up before ten o’clock and I won’t.  Now…  are you continuing this nudist fest or do you want to get some clothes on before I give you gifts?”

“I’d consider it a gift if you joined the nudist fest,” he informed her with a dirty chuckle. 

“I’ll take that as a no on getting dressed,” was her assumption from his remark as she straightened and came around the counter to grab his hand.  “Come on.  You can tie the ribbon around your pecker after you open it.”

His loud guffaw startled even him.  “And here all my friends think you’re a lady.”

“I am,” she spoke over her shoulder while walking toward the doorway.  “Ninety-eight percent lady anyway.  The other two percent was in hiding until you came along.  Or maybe I’ve just spent too much time in New Jersey.”

“No such thing,” he assured her, jerking on a pair of shorts from his bag at the foot of the staircase as she mounted the first step.  When the elastic settled at his waist, he reached up to pat her backside with a wicked grin.  “Ooooh!  Now I’m officially excited about this gift of yours, ‘cause anytime you drag me upstairs for a surprise…  Well, you know how that ends.”

Her hips found an extra wiggle as she climbed the stairs, assuring him that this time wouldn’t be any different.  There would be debauchery in the master bedroom this morning, and his morning wood began to sprout anew. 

Damn.  I wasted my time puttin’ on these shorts, but I ain’t complainin’.

 

Except…

Except, instead of taking the right turn into the master bedroom that he expected, Rachel veered to the left.  His forehead furrowed with confusion, he nonetheless followed along behind her, past first the open doors of Tyler’s bedroom and then Lauren’s.  Both were meticulously kept and he thought they probably looked a lot like they had left them back on that fateful day. 

But Rachel didn’t even glance at them as she led him past those to the bonus room.  He’d been in here a few times using the limited training equipment – a treadmill and light weights – and the door usually stood open like the others.  Today, however, it was closed and there was a huge red bow in the center. 

“Damn, baby…  That’s a lotta ribbon.  Nice to see you think so highly of my dick’s magnitude.”

“Oh my word,” she said on a laugh, turning to face him and cross her arms.  “You’re certainly feeling your oats this morning.”

He smiled widely.  Yes, he was. 

“I got laid last night and fully expect to spend the entire day and night in bed repeating the process.  My oats are pretty damn happy.”

“Sorry to ruin your plans, baby, but we’ll need to schedule an intermission.  Tonight is dinner with Robin and Rick.”

Well, hell.

His first reaction was disappointment, but then he reevaluated his position.  Rachel’s sister had been barely civil when he’d last seen her at the wedding.  Seeing as the two sisters were close, it wouldn’t hurt his cause to try and warm her up a bit.  Maybe one of his coveted bottles of vino that was sitting beneath the bar downstairs would help put him in a more favorable light.

Making sure she drinks her fair share of it should work even better.  Unless she’s a mean drunk.

Chuckling silently to himself, he regarded the sister who stood before him, waiting patiently for his response. 

“Intermission is good.  Absence makes the dick grow fonder and all that.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” she exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.  “Do you want this gift or not?”

He loved it when she acted all appalled, when she was anything but.  Something about it amused the hell out of him.  So much that he couldn’t resist pushing a little further.

“Lay it on me baby.  Or lay me.  Whichever.”

“Argh!  You’re ruining this moment.  You realize that, right?”

Jon bit the inside of his mouth to control the smile and laughter.  She was giving him a gift.  He should show proper appreciation and attention and all that. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he apologized sincerely, leaning forward to kiss her piqued mouth.  “I’d love to see what you took the time to pick out for me.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You’ve already ruined the mood for the heartfelt accompanying speech,” she huffed with faux indignation.  “So, quite simply, I wanted you to feel as much at home here as I do in New Jersey.  Everything beyond this door has been declared your domain, so…”  She flicked the handle, gave the bedecked door a push and stepped to the side.  “See what you think.”

Looking past her expectant face, Jon found the room a little more fully stocked than the last time he’d seen it.  In fact….  He stepped inside and took a closer look.  It held all the same state-of-the-art workout equipment that was currently sitting in his Jersey house.

“Heeeeey…this is niiiiiiiiice!”  A thought occurred to him, and he turned to Rachel with a puzzled look.  “How the fuck did you pull this off on your own?”

Rachel shrugged nonchalantly, even as her eyes twinkled with pride.   “I had a little help.  Dean made it effortless by taking care of all the arrangements for the order, layout and installation.  I hope it’s everything you need to work out this perfect body of yours.”

“It’s perfect, Rach.  Thank you.” Jon snaked his arm across her shoulder and kissed her temple.  “But the real question is… can I work out on you in here?”

“I swear you’re the horniest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

“That’s your own fault,” he murmured, his hand creeping down the front of her body. “You built me the perfect man cave, and it needs to be properly christened.” 

“I tell ya what,” she countered silkily, her own hand taking a turn at creeping down the front of his body.  “Indulge me for a few more minutes and we’ll christen anything you like.”

“Define indulge,” he countered her counter, having just a little too much politics in his blood for him to be comfortable in blindly accepting anything, even if it was from Rachel. 

“I have one more surprise for you, but it’s back downstairs.”

“Geez,” he grumbled when she latched on to his wrist and towed him along behind her.  “I’m not gonna need to work out with all the running up and down the stairs.”

“Oh hush.” 

With  no more than that tepid admonishment, Rachel led him into the formal living room, where the piano lived.  The same grand piano that he’d used to start writing “Superman Tonight”.  The same piano that now served as a musical backdrop to a copy of his favorite guitar resting in a stand beside it.

“What the hell?”

She beamed that proud, twinkly smile again.  “I figured a guy who makes a living playing guitar probably needs a guitar here, so I asked Matt to send one.”

Jon grinned at the joy Rachel was so obviously feeling, touched by the gestures that had required a lot of work on her part – just to make him feel completely at home in her world.  “It almost feels like you intend to keep me, Ms. Braden.  Is this your way of accepting my marriage proposal?”

“Geez.”  Rachel rolled her eyes and twirled away on the ball of her foot, sashaying back toward the family room as she spoke over her shoulder.  “Do you always have to twist everything around to suit your needs?”

Jon laughed and enjoyed the sway of her hips as he watched her from behind.   He’d get her sooner or later.  Jon Bon Jovi was nothing if not persistent. 

“Maybe,” he conceded, calling after her.  “Because I know right now I’d like to twist you around to suit my needs.”

Ch 49 ~ Cranky Pants

Rachel frowned curiously at her ringing cell phone, wondering why Jon’s brother Matt would be calling her.  She hadn’t seen or talked to him since the band departed for this leg of the tour, while she went home to work obligations. 

Leaning back at her home office desk, she put that work aside and answered the call of the youngest Bongiovi. 

“This is Rachel.”

“Jesus, I hope so,” he snorted.  “Because if you didn’t answer your damn phone I was gonna commit a felony.”

Rachel laughed in bewilderment.  “Uh… okay.  Then I guess it’s a good thing I answered since I’m a real estate agent, not a lawyer.”

“Whatever you are is a huge pain in my ass right now.”

This phone call was getting stranger by the minute. “Gee…  I’m really sorry to hear that, but is there something I can do for you?”

The big man chuckled without humor.  “Yeah, you could come go on tour with a rock band before the guy in charge drives everybody crazy.”

Well that cleared things right up.

“I will assume you’re talking about Jon?  What’s the problem?”

He hadn’t seemed out of sorts when she’d spoken to him last night.  Or the night before.  He might have mentioned the fact that he was in Texas, teasing that he’d come halfway across the country and she could at least meet him halfway, but it was nothing of note.  They missed each other, but there were grown up responsibilities to be taken care of on both their parts. 

Besides, he was coming next week to spend an entire week with her.  Their separation wasn’t desirable, but it wasn’t an issue and they were finding time to talk a couple times a day. 

It couldn’t be an issue.  The tour was likely going to be extended to promote the band’s Greatest Hits release and that meant another world tour.  And that meant even longer periods of time away from home. 

“Home” itself was a relative term, too.   Even if he was “home” in New York or New Jersey, Rachel was “home” in California.  Things had changed from the early days of their relationship when they’d virtually lived together, spending nearly every night cuddled up in bed together. 

He was a rock star and she had a more normal job.  This was just the way it was going to be.

“The problem is that he’s a dick.  He’s pissy and bored out of his mind, so he’s working us like a friggin’ slave driver to keep himself occupied.  ‘Move this, change this, put it back the way it was’.”

She still wasn’t connecting the dots in a way that made any sense.  Matt didn’t seem like the whiny type, so why was he calling her to complain about Jon’s workaholic tendencies?  Surely it wasn’t the first time it had surfaced in twenty-five years?

“I’m sorry, Matt, but I’m not getting it.  What does that have to do with me, specifically?”

He huffed, clearly annoyed that she wasn’t seeing what was right in front of her face.  “Specifically… can’t you get away from work for a coupla days and come see him?  So his grouchy ass will leave us the hell alone?”

Her head fell back and a boisterous laugh bubbled free.  “Isn’t that a little bit like screaming for your mommy when somebody picks on you?”

“No.  It’s using all of your available resources to their full potential,” he reasoned.  “If you’re here in his room doing… whatever it is that you do and please God don’t tell me… then he will be happy and content with the perfectly organized tour that he is determined to tinker to death.”

She couldn’t control her giggling.  Matt was a big man – bigger than most, in fact – and he was asking her to come and drag the bully away by his… ear?  Absolutely hilarious!

“Seriously?” she gasped between gales of laughter.  “You have got to be kidding me.  Pull your gun on him or something.  You’re security.  You carry a gun, right?”

“Jesus Christ.  I thought I might get some sympathy here, but noooo…  You gotta be all logical on me or somethin’ when Jonny in this kinda mood is anything but logical.”

Rachel smothered a new batch of giggles and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes as she sniffled.  “I’m sorry.  Truly.  But do you not see how funny this is?”

A soft snort came over the line.  “Yeah.  I guess.  But, damn…  Desperate times call for desperate measures and I figured this would be an easy fix.”

“Unfortunately, I have a job that needs me right now,” she told him, a lingering titter squeaking out.  “But if he’s being that much of a pain, I guess I can…  I don’t know.  Call him or something.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he declined gracefully.  “I really called to see if you got your delivery, but I decided to take a shot in the dark first.”

A grin curled the corners of Rachel’s mouth.  “It arrived this morning, thank you.  I appreciate your help.”

“No big deal.  I’m sure you’ll be in a position to help me out someday.”  He gasped like a badly portrayed soap opera character.  “Oh, wait!  Like now, maybe.  You could help me out now by hopping on a plane and soothing the annoying ass beast you call a boyfriend.  I’ll give you the hotel info, just like I did last time.  Which, coincidentally enough, is another time I helped you out.  It’s starting to sound like you owe me, Rach.  Don’t ‘cha think?”

Blonde locks shook along with her shoulders as laughter consumed her once again.  “I probably do owe you, but I’m not paying up just yet.  Suck it up, Matt.  I’m sure you’ve lived through worse.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it,” he grumbled before ringing off. 

Rachel tapped the disconnect button on her phone, marveling at the absurdity of it all.  Because she wasn’t there, Jon had become such a slave-driving taskmaster that his personal security was calling her to whine about it?

Seriously?

Jon isn’t that bad.  He can’t be. 

Despite the fact that Matt had told her not to bother calling, Rachel couldn’t help herself.  She had to hear this from the horse’s mouth. 

Checking the clock and calculating the time difference, she pressed the icon that represented Jon’s cell phone.

“Hey,” he answered, sounding a little distracted. 

“Hey, yourself,” she returned, propping her elbows on the desk and crossing her ankles under her chair.  “Are you busy, or do you have a minute?”

“Just finished sound check, so I’ve got a minute.  Hold on.”  His voice became muffled when he said, “No, let’s go back to the way it was in the first place.  I think that works better.”

A smirk found her face as she recalled Matt’s complaint about this very thing.  But still….

“Sorry, baby.  I’m all yours now.  What’s up?”

“Well…” she drawled bemusedly.  “A little birdie told me you were being a Grade A asshole, so I thought I’d call and see what’s up with you.”

“What the fuck?” he asked irritably.  “Why would somebody tell you that?  Who was it?”

“More importantly, is it true?”

“What?  No!  I’m working just like I always am.  I got nothing better to do since you’re not here.”

“Same as always, huh?  Not finding busywork for you and everybody else?”

He blew out an agitated breath, and she conceded that maybe Matt wasn’t being a drama queen after all.   Much.  “I dunno what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Spill, Jon.  Why are you annoying your employees?”

“Fuck ‘em if they’re annoyed!” he spouted belligerently.  “I pay ‘em well enough to be annoyed when the need arises.”

“Jon….”

“What?  What?!  So I’m a little more hands-on at the moment than I usually am.  What’s the big friggin’ deal?”

Rachel sighed softly.  Maybe Matt wasn’t being even a little bit of a drama queen.  She hadn’t seen Jon this touchy in…. She couldn’t honestly say she ever remembered seeing him this touchy, but she didn’t usually have her nose in his work, either. 

Now she just had to figure out how to approach the situation.

“Honey...” she began tentatively, “I don’t mean to butt into your work life, but - ”

“Then don’t,” he interrupted sharply.  “Instead, tell me you’re at the airport and will be in a posh Tampa hotel waiting for me when I get there after tonight’s show.”

Her eyes grew wide at the realization that she’d just been put in her place.  Or had she?  Maybe, instead, she’d discovered the real reason behind his mood... attitude... whatever.  Not only had Matt not been a theatrical drama queen, he’d also been right??

“Is that the problem?  You’re bent out of shape because I’m not there?” she asked incredulously. 

“I’m not ‘bent out of shape’,” was his firm denial.  “I’m working.  Granted, I don’t understand why real estate is more appealing than being in my bed...  and while we’re on the subject, I also don’t understand why you just don’t quit.  It’s not like you need the money anymore.”

Her head dipped to the side like a confused cocker spaniel and her eyes narrowed.  “Are you kidding me?” 

His voice was cold and flat when responding, “Do I sound like I’m kidding?  I just gave you two bottomless credit cards, and I’m pretty sure you have a nice nest egg tucked away besides that.”

“Okay, just stop right there,” Rachel ordered, torn between being dumbfounded and furious.  “I’m going to do you a favor and ignore all that money stuff, because...  Well, because it makes my head want to explode.  Jon, I thought you, of all people, would understand responsibility.  To my clients, to my employers-“

“What about your responsibility to me?”

“What about it?  I’m no further away than your phone or computer anytime you need me, day or  night, just like you’ve agreed to be for me.  We’ve discussed that.  And if this is a physical thing...”  She snorted with disdain.  “Contrary to urban legend and the women of Seattle, blue balls aren’t a terminal illness.  You can survive abstinence relatively unscathed.” 

“Now I’m going to do you a favor and pretend you didn’t just fuckin’ bring up history that’s supposed to be dead and buried.”

“Fantastic, thank you.  Because I’d much rather you tell me why a man who has spent more time on tour than in his own home – and self-admittedly requires an independent woman – is now suddenly needy and whiny.”

“I’m not whiny, goddammit!”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she informed him haughtily.  “You’re sounding pretty whiny to me.”

“Yanno, Rachel,” he growled.  “I haven’t hesitated to give up everything – to make the changes you wanted me to.  What have you changed?  Huh?  What have you given up?”

His accusation hit her with the force of a bullet train, taking her breath and catapulting her into a stunned silence.

Holy mother.  Of.  Pearl.

What had she given up?  What had she given up??  Why, she had...  She’d given up....  Something, dammit. 

“Marriage,” she finally sputtered.  “I gave up marriage.”

His laugh was loud and humorless.  “Bullshit.  I’ve offered you marriage more times than I can count.  That’s on you, not me.”

“That’s not true!  I gave up on marriage because you’re offering it to me like a thing...  Like the house or the car or the credit cards.  You aren’t asking because it’s something you want so much that you can’t stand not sharing it with me.”

“Oh for God’s sake...!”

“I’m not complaining, because I’ve consciously chosen the path we’re on.  I’ve accepted that you’re more important to me than having the marriage I want, but make no mistake that I gave up that ideal for you.”

“Fuck!”  The noise he made was somewhere between a growl and a frustrated snarl before his tone turned to one of resignation. “Let’s dial this back about three steps, because I sure as hell don’t want to fight with you.  I just want you to be in my bed.  I miss you, dammit.”

The forlorn sigh that followed his confession soothed her raised hackles.  A little.  “I miss you, too, but I can’t just walk away from all my obligations just because you get a wild hair or a little horny.”

“Logically, I understand that, but that doesn’t mean I like it,” he grumbled. 

“You don’t have to like it, you have to live with it,” she rebutted with far more kindness than her tumultuous thoughts carried. 

He had bent over backward since turning up on her doorstep.  And, while she made a concentrated effort not to bicker or be argumentative, she hadn’t done much more than give him a hard time.  Was there something she should be changing?  Would he tire of all the concessions he’d made?  Would he someday grow weary of the man she’d “forced” him into being?

The questions troubled her and she didn’t like being trapped in a troubled place, so Rachel deliberately took them back to a place she did like being.

After he grunted with begrudging acceptance, she put a lightness in her tone that she didn’t feel in her heart.  “Just think...  In just one short a week, you’ll start a seven day tour of my bed.  I’ll have you so relaxed and sated with orgasms, that you won’t even remember being irritable.  You won’t even remember what irritable means.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll lay there for a solid week with your legs spread and your lips puckered, like a Nubian sex slave?”

She chuckled softly, nearly ashamed of the arousing jolt that shot through her.  “We have dinner plans with Robin and Rachel one night, but other than that...  Maybe.”

“You can wear a dress with no panties and I’ll fuck you in their bathroom though, right?”

“Ewww!”  Her nose wrinkled as she protested, “That’s so white trash tacky, Jon!  I’m not going anywhere without panties.”

“I dunno about that, I can remember a night you went without them.  But I can meet you in the middle...thong, then,” was his gracious concession, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Negotiable.  We can talk about it when you get here.  And,” she added.  “I should probably send them back, considering what an ass you were to me, but I’ll have a couple of surprises waiting for you.”

He snorted carelessly.  “Only surprise I’m interested in is the color of your lingerie.  I haven’t seen you in that white sequined thing I bought you in Vegas, yanno.”

“That’s because you were too impatient to let me put it on before you ravished me,” she teased. 

“Your fault for looking better naked than dressed.”

And that’s why I love this man....

48 ~ Italian Cream

Jon smiled at Rachel as she dabbed her finger into the remaining crumbs of pistachios and mini chocolate chips, and licked the tip clean of Sal’s world famous cannoli.  He’d been surprised that she was so adamant about wanting to Sal’s Pizzeria when he asked her what she wanted for dinner, but he didn’t question it.  There had been more than one late night when he found himself calling the local parlor, haunted by visions of sausage, garlic and onions. 

Who was he to question anybody’s thirst for Italian?

But then she had gone at her meal like a starving truck driver.  It was crazy.  This perfectly refined, subdued woman was shoveling pizza in her mouth like she’d spent the last month on a boat from Darfur – and when that was gone, she’d ordered cannoli.  Not one, not two, but three of the damn things.

This was something she wasn’t going to live down anytime soon.

“Thank you,” she said with a happy sigh, blissfully rolling her eyes and leaning back against her side of the booth. 

“You’re welcome,” he returned with a cocked eyebrow.  “I think I dropped a chocolate chip over here in the floor if you want it, too.  Or a piece of pizza crust.”

Her wadded napkin bounced off the end of his nose and onto the table as she stuck out her tongue at him.  “Jerk.  It kills me to admit this, but pizza and cannoli are just not the same in California, so I’ve been craving this exact meal ever since I left.  Yanno, I had serious dreams about Sal’s sausage.  Woke up fantaszing about the perfect blend of pistachio, chocolate and mascarpone….”  She crossed herself in a move reminiscent of his old Sicilian aunt.

“So that’s a yes on the chocolate chip, then?” 

She bumped his ankle with her toe in a lazy, half-hearted kick as he bent over to and seek out the stray sweet.  Finding it only slightly fuzzy from being on the floor, he snatched it up and flicked it onto her side of the table, careful to keep his fingers clear for fear they’d get bitten off when she went for the chocolate.

“I am so content that you’re almost amusing,” she informed him, wrinkling her nose at his dirty offering before squashing the hairy chip inside a napkin and lightly dropping it into her empty plate.

“Yeah, but the question is, whose cream is responsible for that contentment?  Mine or the cannoli’s?”

She laughed out loud and immediately slapped one open palm over her stomach, her face scrunching in pain.  “Oh!  Stop it!  I’m so full, it hurts to laugh.”

“Serves you right,” he decreed loftily.  “Havin’ your wicked way with me, then tossin’ me aside like a used rubber to get your jollies from a pastry.”

Her smirk was as much evil as it was sexy as hell.  “Oh, honey,” she purred.  “Never a used rubber.  More like a vibrator, because I intend to use you again.  And again, and again….”

It was his turn to laugh out loud.  Smut talk was something completely out of character for his girl, unless she was on the brink of an orgasm, so the unexpectedness hit him as funny. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re in afterglow of a food-induced orgasm.”

“But, baby,” she purred, sliding her foot up his calf.  “You brought me here.  So it’s like you gave me permission to… yanno.  And you were right here with me the whole time, so – technically – you’re responsible for the afterglow.  Twice in one afternoon.  You should be proud.”

“Double your pleasure, double your fun?”

“True story,” Rachel agreed with a wide grin.  “Sex with you followed by Sal’s pizza and cannolis… Doesn’t get any better than that, baby.”

“Huh,” he grunted thoughtfully, catching that wandering foot and pulling it into his lap.  “I’ll bet you’re so appreciative of me and all my afterglow-inducing efforts that you’d do just about anything for me right about now.”

“I would.”  Her head bobbed in immediate agreement and Rachel didn’t even attempt to stifle the grin that had gone from sexy evil to wholly evil.  She was clearly enjoying their playful banter as much as he was.  “Whatcha got in mind?”

Jon sat back a little further in the booth and rubbed the skin left bare by her sandals.  It was unseasonably warm for April and she’d been lotioning herself even more than usual, making the tops of her feet like velvet.  It kind of reminded him of the skin on his –

Jon shifted in the seat and wiggled his eyebrows at her.  “What are my options?”

“Tell me what you’ve got in mind,” she countered, wiggling her toes.  “I’m feeling pretty generous right now.”

“You do realize my ego isn’t fragile enough to be dented by a cannoli, right?  No matter how good its cream is?”

She snorted softly, biting at the corner of her smile.  “I’ve never been worried about your ego. Giving you limitless options wasn’t an attempt to soothe it.” 

“Limitless?  My happiness is that important to ya, huh?” he teased, tweaking her big toe. 

The smile she’d been nibbling on got swallowed.  The playful light that had been dancing in her eyes had been dimmed by a cloak of somberness and when she told him simply, “I’d do anything to make you happy, Jon.”

Jon’s heart went a little soft. 

She would do anything to make him happy.  He knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt, because he’d do the same for her. 

The only difference was that he was bastard enough to take advantage of this tender moment in order to fulfill his own agenda.  Hopefully, his agenda would make her happy. 

Eventually.

“Well, well, well…  That works out beautifully, because I have the perfect opportunity for you to prove it.” 

Her eyes went from soft and doe-like to a sharp curiosity as he released her foot to lean forward and pull a small envelope out of his back pocket.  He slapped it on the table with a wide grin, keeping his palm over it for the time being. 

“What would make me happy is for you to open this and accept it without any hassle.   In fact,” he went on.  “What would make me very, very happy is for you to actually be excited by this little token of my affection.  Think you can do that for me?”

“Of course I can.  I adore your tokens of affection – especially the ones that come with a tennis court and swimming pool,” she teased with her own wide grin as she extended an open palm and waggled her fingers.  “Hand it over, baby.”

Jon, knowing that this wasn’t going to be as easy as all that, placed the envelope flat in her hand, cautioning as she curled her fingers around the edges, “Remember… happy.  Excited.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” she shushed him, shaking the little packet until its contents spilled onto the table.  She cocked her head and studied the “tokens” silently:  a set of car keys and two credit cards. 

The car keys he didn’t think would earn him too much grief.  The credit cards, however…  Jon had arranged for her to have a Visa and a black American Express – both embossed with her name and drawn on his bank account.  There was a better than average chance that Rachel was going to throw a fit over those.

Start easy…

“So, yeah.  Remember when you left for California and I told you I’d take care of getting your car back to the dealer?  I didn’t take it back.”

“I see.  So you stole it?”

“No, wise ass,” he chuckled, shoulders relaxing as he lifted his wine glass and cradled it in his hand.  “I bought out the lease and kept it.  It’s been sitting in your garage since the day you left.”

Her head tilted even further and her eyebrows knit together as she looked into his heart.  “Why?”

“Because I’m a pansy at heart?”  Jon mused with a self-deprecating chuckle and shrugged.  “Lame, maybe, but it was a tie to you.  So many ties had already been severed, that I couldn’t handle any more.”

As a general rule, he tended to keep his sentimental side to himself, but the truth was the truth.  It had been devastating to watch her climb on that plane and fly away from him, knowing she wasn’t coming back.  Devastating enough that he really didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of her never coming back, so he practiced vehicular denial. 

That car sitting in her garage, just next door…  It had been a motivator.  Positive imagery or whatever those swami-guru types called it. 

Whatever it was, it made coming back to his ghost-filled house tolerable.  The memories of Rachel didn’t taunt him, they were just reminders of what had been and what would be again. 

“I don’t have words for how sweet that is.  How sweet you are.”  She swallowed hard, and he thought her voice might have threatened to break as she blinked eyes that could have been just the tiniest bit misty. The brightness of the smile that she used to break through them was like a ray of sunshine, though, when she said cheerfully, “Thank you, baby.  I always did like that car.”

The corner of Jon’s mouth tipped up affectionately.  Thank God, she wasn’t going to make this into some sappy Harlequin moment.  It was just a car, after all. 

“It suits you.”

“I always thought so.  Now…”  She puckered her mouth and gave him a pointedly accusatory look.  “Care to explain the credit cards?”

Ah, fuck.

He’d known the car would be the easy part.  The credit cards, however…?  Jon would be lucky if she didn’t try and rip him a new ass.

“Excited, Rach.  Remember?”  The haughty tip of her head told him that she remembered, but she still wanted her explanation and it better be a damn good one. 

Honestly, testosterone was the reason.  Every guy wanted to provide for the woman he loves.  It didn’t make a tinker’s damn whether she was financially independent and successful.  She was his woman, even if she hadn’t accepted any of his forty-eleven marriage proposals, and he was going to take care of her as such.  Whether she liked it or not. 

If she let him. 

Fuck that shit.  This is not optional. 

It wasn’t cheap to live his life, or to be a part of his life.  He was going to need her to fly away with him on a whim, or to pull together a dinner party, or wear a designer dress to a function, or any of a thousand other money-sucking things demanded by the celebrity lifestyle.  She damn sure wasn’t going to foot the bill for it all. 

This might get bloody, but he was up to the task.  She was going to keep – and use – those damn cards. 

“Fine,” he acquiesced, leaning his elbows on the table and meeting her suspicious gaze.  “I wanna make sure you’ve got any and everything you need.  In an emergency, for the house, whenever, whatever.  Period.”

“Period?”  Her eyebrows slid up on her forehead, as though she couldn’t believe he would dare dictate to her. 

Oh, you better believe it, baby.

“Yes, period.  Don’t fight with me on this, Rach.” 

“So…”  She tapped the plastic rectangles on the table.  “You don’t think I can take care of myself, or you want me to be a kept woman?”

“Your self-sufficiency has never been in question,” he snorted. 

“Kept woman, then.”

He lifted a shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant, even as he mentally girded himself for battle.  “Not in any way that would be insulting, but yeah.  A guy isn’t a man unless he can take care of his woman, and trust me, honey…  I’m all man.”

She squared her jaw and lifted her chin, giving Jon every reason to resign himself to an argument until he caught the twinkle in her eye.  “That you are, baby,” she confirmed with a grin and curled her fingers possessively around the cards.  “My very own black American Express card!  Do you know there are women all over the world would sell their mothers for one of those?”

Relief replaced resignation in one whooshing swoop.  If they weren’t going to fight over this, then they were invincible, as far as he was concerned.  It left him feeling pretty cocky as he winked at her and drawled, “Lucky for you, I don’t want your mom.  All I’m interested in is your body.”

“My body in exchange for the house, the car, the black American Express AND the Visa?” she clarified, the sparkle in her eyes now dancing like Fourth of July fireworks.  “That’s the deal?”

“That’s it in a nutshell,” he confirmed as the waitress put the check beside his elbow.  “Seems you’re making out like a bandit to me.”

Without responding, Rachel reached over and snatched the check, offering it back to the girl with a flourish – and her newly acquired Visa as Jon shook his head with a smirk. 

“Trust me, lover, this body can’t be bought,” she informed him saucily after the waitress had departed.  “But…  as long as that black American Express has plenty of credit on it, you may consider me leased.”

Ch 47 ~ Feels Like Home

“I’m sorry.  Are you on LSD?  Because it sure as hell seems like you’re tripping.”

His belly laugh echoed throughout the entryway as he gestured for her to follow him inside, which she did only reluctantly.  Primarily because she was… curious. 

Or at least that was the justification she pulled out of the yarn basket of knots her brain had become.  In reality, she had no idea as to why she was blindly following along, aiding and abetting in a trespassing charge.  Rachel wouldn’t do well at the county jail when they arrested her for breaking and entering.

The door closed behind them and Rachel discovered that the formal living and dining rooms were as empty as the day she left. 

He took her hand and led her behind the main staircase and into the family room, where she found that it, too, was exactly as she remembered.  The contract had specified all the furniture and furnishings be left in the house, so the family room with its sofa, chair and other accessories were still there.  In the exact same spots she had left them in almost a year ago. 

But even more surprising than that....  There was a fire happily crackling away in the fireplace, warming the room while a bottle of wine chilled in a bucket on the coffee table. 

“Make yourself at home, baby.”  Jon released her hand to plop down on the edge of the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, a silent invitation for her to join him.  Yet she simply stood and stared as he uncorked the wine bottle and filled the two accompanying glasses. 

“What… is this?” she asked, gesturing dumbly to the romantic setting.

“This?”  He put the bottle back in the bucket and offered her one of the glasses.  “It’s a lovely glass of wine in your family room.  Sit down and enjoy.”

She accepted the wine and took a deep swallow.  “Could you please be a little more specific?  My family room?  How is that possible?”

He grinned that million dollar smile, leaning back and crossing his legs and looking quite pleased with himself.  “Family room, living room…. Bed room.  It’s all yours, Rach.  When you put the place up for sale, I figured I’d buy it and give it to you so you’d at least stay near me.  That was supposed to give me time to figure out a way to win you back.  Trouble is, you left before I got a chance to give it to ya.”

Rachel sat down next to him and dropped her hand to his leg.  “You bought this house?  For me?”

Smiling, he rested his hand on top of hers and squeezed.  “Welcome to the party, baby.  That’s what I’ve been sayin’ for ten minutes now.”

She was so dumbfounded that she didn’t even flinch at his smart ass remark, and it was hard for Rachel to pinpoint exactly why she was so flummoxed.  She’d always known he was a generous man, but this…  The fact that he’d bought her the beautiful house she’d been so heartbroken to leave – without her knowing it…  Well, it was a tangible monument to how bad their communication skills had been.  

“And you kept it even after I left?”

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else living here,” he said simply before shrugging and taking a sip of wine.  “Sometimes I’d come over here and wonder where it all went wrong.  Other times I’d remember all that went right.  I had moments where I wanted to burn it to the ground, but mostly I just missed you.”

Before that moment, Rachel would’ve sworn it was physically and emotionally impossible for her to love this man any more fully than she already did.  But he had just proven her wrong.   She could feel the spiral of affection he so often brought out in her, but this time it was spinning at warp speed.   The memories they’d built and shared inside these four walls weren’t lost forever!  They’d merely been put on the shelf to be brought out at the moment she’d least expected it. 

Rachel curled up next to the tanned, unshaven man next to her and fingered the bounty of hair at his neck, pulling him closer for a simple, sweet, tender kiss.  "I missed you, too.  And this house.  And all the times together we had here, both good and bad.  I...  I can't believe that you did this, but I'm so glad you did.” 

Looking around the room, a wave of wonderful, nostalgic memories rushed through her mind. There were so many good times in this house, but Rachel was practical to a fault.  That meant, no matter how good the memories, she was mortified at the three million dollar price tag on this ‘gift’. 

“But, Jon…. What on earth are we going to do with it?  I mean...it’s too expensive to just let it sit here, and you already have nearly twenty thousand square feet next door!”

“I don’t give a shit what you do with it so long as you don’t sell it,” he responded without concern.  “You told me once that this place could be a beautiful home.  Personally, I’d like to see you make it one, but that’s up to you.  If you just wanna make this our secret love shack…”  He grinned that lecherous grin she adored.  “Hey, I’m cool with that, too.” 

“This place doesn’t have the ghosts that my house has,” she pondered out loud, after giving him a gentle elbow in the ribs.  “Or the ghosts that your house has, for that matter.   The memories here – whether good or bad – they’re ours and that tickles me.  I love the idea of a home that’s just ours.”

“Then make it home, Rach.  We’ll use the other house for formal events and when the kids are here.”

“But Jon…” she protested out of practical obligation.  “It’ll cost a small fortune to furnish this place.  And the maintenance?  Geez…the taxes alone are probably more than most people make in year.”

“It’s only money,” he shrugged. “I’ll just go make more.”

“But…” Rachel was overwhelmed with a gazillion thoughts bouncing around her brain.  Should she keep stressing about the financial obligation the house carried with it, or ask what color Jon wanted in the master bedroom?  Practicality won out again.  “But I want to be able to contribute.  To carry my own weight.  I don’t want you to bear the financial burden…”

Jon set his wineglass on the side table and a single swift movement that any panther would be proud of, laid her between him and the back of the couch.  Before she could do more than open her mouth to take a breath, he was kissing that breath right out of her and effectively interrupting her rant. 

“Baby, shut up, will ya?” he murmured, his mouth barely grazing hers as he spoke.  “Don’tcha think – after everything we’ve been through – you can let the money shit go?”

His mouth so close to her was a definite distraction, but Rachel was used to being an equal partner and the mere thought of Jon supporting “their” home couldn’t be made palatable, even by those perfect lips of his. 

“I don’t want to be one more financial responsibility for you.”

“Rach,” he sighed, clearly nearing the end of his patience for this topic.  “Maybe you could just let me win this fight without goin’ ten rounds, huh?  Because the God’s honest truth is that I don’t care if you never make another dollar.  It’d suit me if you decided to walk away from that job and just come home.”

It was a beautiful gesture, while she’d bludgeoned it within an inch of its life, Rachel didn’t have the heart to kill Jon’s obvious delight in presenting her with the property she’d come to love.  This was one of those times she knew she should make a conscious effort to be a gracious receiver and not steal his thunder.  He wanted her to have this, so she would. 

Before she could voice her acceptance, Jon slid a heavy hand up her thigh and dug his fingers in, putting her libido on high alert.  The teeny-tiny fine hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention when his lips skated along the underside of her jaw, tickling the flesh there with his soft chuckle. “Or, you could just marry me.  Would that make you feel better about the money thing?”

Amusement trumped arousal, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.  His whole marriage proposal shtick had become more of a habit than a true desire to get married, but she gave the guy kudos for his persistence – and for presenting her with an easy out. 

“If I shut up about the money will you do the same about marriage?” she giggled around a soft moan, when he sunk those perfectly even teeth into the fleshy part of her shoulder.

“That’s all it’ll take to hush your sexy little mouth about money?” His hand pushed under the hem of her top, spanning the thin flesh at her ribcage with his heated palm.

“Mhm.”  She rolled her head back into the sofa with a happy sigh.  Sex in this house.  With him.  On this couch.  Rachel never thought it would happen again, and she was blissfully squirmy at the notion.  “That and your promise not to bitch about the outrageous dent in your bank account when I start decorating this place.”

“I already told you, spend whatever you want.”

Rachel slipped her leg between his and lightly kissed his mouth as her fingers pushed into the hair above his ears.  It was quite possible that she had a legitimate fetish about his hair.  There was something about the feel of it sliding between her fingers that turned on the sprinklers in her panties.

“Makes me kinda glad I used one of the other bedrooms and kept the master staged for showings,” she purred, watching the varied shades of blond sift through her fingertips.  “Because that means we’ll finally have a bedroom that’s just ours.    No ghosts.”  She snickered softly under her breath and her eyes slid over to connect with his fiery blue irises.  “It’ll be like we’re Ghostbusters or something.” 

“Just don’t go calling me the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” Jon growled, his hand flicking open the back of her bra while he thrust his arousal into her thigh.  “Because I ain’t ever soft around you.” 

“And that’s just the way I like it,” she purred, sliding her leg back and forth against the hardness she would love to have buried deep inside her.  But, while the idea of having sex on the couch was wonderfully nostalgic, she’d much prefer to make love with him someplace a little more comfortable.  “Is my bed still here?”

Jon nodded even as his hand slipped around and covered her breast. “Yeah.  May be a little rumpled from the last time I slept here, but other than that, it’s just like you left it.”

Rachel’s hand covered Jon’s, making him stop the teasing and tugging that he was so intent upon, and she drew her eyebrows down into a frown.  “You slept here?” 

“Slept.  Got drunk.  Wallowed in my misery.  Being here was the closest I could get to you.” 

Oh my word.

She had never let herself imagine that he’d been as decimated as she was during that time.  That he’d been in as much pain as much as she was.

No longer caring about a bed, Rachel slid her hand into the hair behind Jon’s ear and around to the back of his head.  The blue eyes she was so familiar with gazed back at her simmering with a vulnerability she wasn’t familiar with. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his mouth, her physical need now fully consumed by a more powerful emotional need.  “For all the times I hurt you.  I’m sorry I was so consumed with myself that I didn’t see you were hurting, too.”

Shadows shifted through Jon’s eyes a split second before his mouth was drawn to hers like a fierce magnet, his lips carrying all the angst of their time apart.  His fingers dug into her hip as he hauled her against him, and Rachel was overwhelmed by the emotional urgency that was rare between them.  Mouths melded.  Tongues desperately sought one another – sought solace, forgiveness, closeness and… commitment.

Rachel’s free hand slid under the hem of Jon’s shirt, kneading the muscles at the small of his back while the time continuum became blurred. 

Clothes were pushed away as she was lost in the first time Jon showed up at this house with a bottle of wine that they’d ended up sipping on his dock.   Visions of countless other times that their clothes were scattered here and there – the staircase, by the pool, the kitchen, the sofa, the fireplace. 

They’d planted the seeds here.  In this house. 

On this very couch, they’d loved, fought, made up more times than she could recall. 

Now, as the spring air touched her skin with a caress as intimate as her lover’s, Rachel felt as though they’d come full circle.  This is where it had begun, where it thrived, where it struggled, where it crumbled to pieces…  And now – as their hands roamed over each other’s naked bodies, needing to come together as one beautiful living, loving soul – Rachel was struck at how very right it felt. 

Home.  It feels like home. 

He finally slid inside her, filling her body as full as her heart, and Rachel felt a tear slide down her cheek.  Life was…  Perfect. 

“I love you, Jon… so much.”  

He kissed away the tear without a sound, using his body to speak where words insufficient.  There was no talk filling the air around them, but there was the familiar sounds of the love they shared. 

That love – their love – filled the empty halls to brimming.  It exorcised any lingering ghosts of the past.  It promised a better, brighter future. 

It brought a beautiful home back to joyous life. 

Ch 46 ~ Trespassing

In Rachel’s opinion, Navesink River Road had never looked as beautiful as it did on this sunny April afternoon.  Anybody who thought New Jersey was an ugly, factory-laden state had never been to the area Jon called home.  The curves along the road were as familiar as though she’d driven them yesterday instead of all those months ago.

Being here with Jon was wonderful and exciting, but she was really curious to see what the new owners of “her” house had done with the place.  She imagined that it would be similar to the way she left it, seeing as they’d requested all the furnishings, but one never knew.  There had been many unexpected renovations and remodels in her real estate career.

I wonder if the pool is open yet.

Her knee bounced with anticipation and, when they passed the stone dolphin holding the neighbor’s mailbox, she thought she might actually jump out of her skin with excitement.  It would have been her old house they were passing if he hadn’t gotten a hankering for Crazee’s ice cream.  Because of that, they came across the bridge and from the opposite direction than they usually did.

A gentle left turn and the car glided through Jon’s open gates, past the engraved address marker reading “High Point”.  The instant the bumper was inside the perimeter wall, the enormous house loomed in front of them and a satisfied grin filled her face at the sense of being “home”.  If she craned her neck to the right, just beyond Jon’s studio she could see the tip of the roofline of the house where she had once lived. 

Another left at the front of the house took them through an alcove and the SUV stopped in front of the family entrance.  It was here that Rachel unsnapped her seatbelt and flipped the door open, the sweet smell of the Navesink River instantly filling her nose. 

While Jon was busy talking with the driver and pushing their two bags into the house, Rachel directed her footsteps back through the alcove and toward the driveway.  She walked beyond the side of the house, her face splitting into a contented grin when she caught the full view of the river’s beauty. 

There were so many pleasant memories here, and she paused to let them dance through her mind like a childlike kaleidoscope of happiness.   

“You know it’d be really hard to put a price on this view.”

Rachel sighed contentedly as she sat on the edge of the wooden pier dipping her feet in and out of the cool river water. Dusk was beginning to settle and the sky was streaked with pink and purple pastels as the sun continued its nighttime descent.

“You’d be the expert on that!” Jon spoke from beside her, slouching comfortably on his side idly twisting the stem of his wine glass between his thumb and forefinger. The half empty bottle sat in a cooler beside them, beads of condensation running freely down its side.

Rachel smiled softly and shook her head wistfully. “There are just some things in this world that can’t have a price put on them.”

It had been only minutes afterward that they’d shared their first kiss on the very dock she was looking at now.  That kiss was one more of those priceless things in the world.

As if sensing her thoughts, Jon appeared at her side and hooked an arm around her neck, pressing a kiss to her temple.  “Whatcha doin’?” he mumbled, his breath heating her cheek.

“Just reminiscing a little.”

“Good memories or bad?”

“It’s odd,” she laughed, unable to tear her gaze away from the frolicking ghosts of Relationship Past. “I don’t remember anything but the good.  I look at the dock and find myself reflecting on boat rides with the kids, sunsets, and wine right there on that little bench.   That’s where you kissed me for the first time, remember?”

“Only two things I really remember about the first kiss,” he confessed like the true ‘guy’ he was.  “Looking down your shirt when you bent over to put your shoes on and trying to walk back to the house with a hard-on you weren't going to relieve me of.”

Rachel couldn’t do anything but laugh and shake her head.  “I’m lost in sweet memories and all you can manage to recall is your perpetual hard-on.”

“I’ve just spent a week trying to have quiet sex because I was trapped on a boat with my ex-wife, her boyfriend and my kids.  Gimme a break, will ya?”

“It wouldn’t matter if we’d spent the last week naked and alone on a deserted island.  You’d still only remember looking down my dress.”

Jon unwound his arm from her neck and twirled her around to face him, sliding his hands down her arms.  “Not true,” he countered, settling his hands onto the curves of her hips.  “I also remember how you got so into that kiss you slithered up onto my lap.”

The joy spouted from Rachel in laughter that bubbled from her very soul.  It was so perfectly perfect to be back here with him. 

Her merriment was interrupted by a soft tap to her behind, and Jon’s fingers locked into hers with a gentle pull.  “C’mon.  Let’s take a walk.”

“You’re dragging me off to the pub to get me drunk enough to have your way with me, aren’t you?” she teased, yet followed willingly along.  There was no place on his estate that she wasn’t eager to see, touch and smell – to revisit and remember.

“Please.” He rolled his eyes and towed her along the pathway that separated High Point from the neighboring property.  “I’ve never needed alcohol to get you outta your panties.”

“No, you were potent enough all on your own, Jonny,” she agreed, a beautiful spring breeze filling her nostrils as his pedestrian gate came into view.  Through the gate was the easement road between his property and the house that she’d lived in, which had been well traveled during their time in New Jersey.

It seemed as though he intended to make the familiar trek when he punched the correct sequence on the security pad at the gate.   She followed him through and down the little blacktop lane that separated the properties, eager to take a peek into the yard next door.   Loosely intertwined fingers swung between them as they walked, until Rachel was finally able to see the house she’d called home when she’d lived in New Jersey. 

“Look, Jon!  The gates are open on my house.”

“Fuckers didn’t work right half the time,” he snorted disdainfully.

Rachel laughed for what felt like the millionth time since arriving, reveling in the lightness of the Jersey air.  His words instantly transported her to that hot summer day when she’d found herself stuck outside those very gates – because they weren’t working right.  She never would’ve been able to get them open on her own.  It was only because of Jon, who had just happened along, that the monstrous iron barriers had been pried apart just enough to get her suitcases through the gap. 

“C’mon, Rach… Let’s take a walk around.  For old time’s sake.”

He was hauling her down the driveway even as she tried to dig her heels into the pavement.  She wasn’t big into the whole trespassing thing, and she knew nothing about the current occupants.  They may be even less into it than she was. 

“Jon, we can’t just take a leisurely stroll over the grounds.  Somebody lives here now, and they might not appreciate it.”

He paid her no heed and continued to tug her along behind him, toward the front door.  “Maybe
we’ll run into somebody and they’ll invite us in for a drink.” 

“Jon…”  Her voice was perfectly reasonable when trying to rationalize with him, but reasonable flew out the window of mortification when his fingers closed over the front door handle.  He was going to go in there! 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, jerking her hand free of his.  “You can’t strut in there like you own the place!”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong baby.”  He glanced over his shoulder with a cocked eyebrow and pushed open the door in spite of her objections.  “I do own it.  Technically.  Until you sign the papers, at least.  Then it’ll be yours.”

He…  Who…  How…  What in the…  WHAT?!?