Ch 10 ~ The Right Touch

While Rachel walked his nemesis to the door, Jon’s mind whirled like a kaleidoscope on speed. 

For the first time, he wondered exactly what had happened in the months since she’d left New Jersey.  Of course he’d thought of Rachel and speculated on she was doing – in abstract terms.  He’d never gone to the extent of imagining... hospitals.

Jimbo’s bluffing. He has to be.  Rachel’s too strong for that shit.

As much as Jon wanted to sink his teeth into that argument, he knew deep down in his heart that he couldn’t.  The guy had been waaaay too confident to be spouting out anything but the truth.  And if that was the truth, then maybe – just maybe – the cocksucker was right about Jon never being enough to make Rachel happy.

That had Jon spooked more than anything. 

His mind was still trying to absorb all that had been laid out in front of him when Rachel came back in the room.  Flustered and uncertain, instinct took over and he pounced aggressively as soon as her foot crossed the threshold. 

“You’re going to Miami with him?  Tonight?  Didn’t you just wake up with ME this morning?”

Disgust rankled in the sigh she subjected him to as she put coffee cups in the dishwasher.  He didn’t deserve any slack considering his bull-in-a-china-shop attitude, but she cut him some anyway by offering him a calmly factual response. 

“We’re going to Miami for business, Jon.  And if it were more than just work, that would be none of your business.”

Maybe that’s what you think, but I guarantee that good ole Jimbo has porn music playing in his head.

Jon took a wide stance beside the dishwasher, folded his arms and gave her a look of pitying condescension. 

“Don’t be naïve, Rach.  They guy’s got more on his mind than business.  He just told me he intends for you to be his wife and the mother of his children for chrissakes!”

Glassware rattled as she slid the top rack back into the dishwasher and purposefully closed the door.  Green eyes sizzled through the curtain of her hair as she fixed him with a sideways look of annoyance.

“I am not having this conversation with you.  In fact, I think it’s probably best that you leave now.”

He shook his head resolutely, because Jon wasn’t going anywhere.  If he walked out that door now, he knew – just knew – that anything they ever had together would remain a part of history.   There wouldn’t be any future for them if he tucked-tail and ran now.

Besides, he wasn’t much the ‘tuck-tail and run’ kinda guy...

“Don’t wanna have that conversation?  Fine, but I’m not leaving.”  His lock on her eyes was pointed and direct, meant to convey that his presence here was non-negotiable.  “We can talk about something else.  Like your nervous breakdown or what-the-hell-ever it was.”

“Also not open for discussion.”

His first instinct was to loudly declare that they would discuss it and they would discuss it until he was good and damned well ready to not discuss it.  The instinct lasted long enough to witness the green sizzle of her eyes fade away to a dullness that transformed her into that woman he didn’t know – a woman that he had apparently made her. 

His heart grew uncomfortably heavy at the thought.  She’d been through hell and back before he stepped foot into her life.  Now, when he thought all he’d done was love her, it turned out he may have sent her on a similar journey.

Find out what the real story is before you castrate yourself.

“Rachel...”

Lines furrowed at the corners of her mouth, but her spine still held straight with pride as she pivoted on her heel and walked from the room. 

He sighed, his eyes falling shut for a brief self-lecture. 

Keep your shit together, Bongiovi.  Just because you’ve been an ostrich, you can’t go off half-cocked once your head gets pulled out of the sand.  Stop making this about you.  It’s about the woman you love, so act like it. 

Jon followed the faint sound of a closing desk drawer toward Rachel’s office.  When he paused in the doorway, he noted that there was a file open on the blotter before her, and she was popping the lid on her laptop.  The lines were still etched around her mouth and her eyes weren’t so much dull as shuttered.  She was keeping her emotions sequestered and ignoring his presence. 

His heavy heart picked up another five pounds. 

He couldn’t take back the past.  Whatever had happened...  happened.  All he could do was let her know he was sorry and that he was here now – to fix it.  So far words hadn’t gotten him through her barriers.  That meant it was time for a different approach. 

Without speaking, Jon slowly entered the room.  His bare feet were silent on the cool hardwood floor as he padded softly behind the desk.  She went still at his presence, as though bracing herself for a fight.

No fighting, baby.  Just...  love.

The words were only articulated in his mind, so she was clueless as to his intention.  That meant that, the instant that his fingertips pressed into the softness of her sweater, she went forcefully rigid under his touch. 

“Jon, don’t.”  The voice that had haunted his dreams night after night was rough, as though she’d just woken from a deep night’s sleep.

“Shh.”  He used the tips of his fingers to knead into the muscles that were fraught with tension.  “I need to make it better, even if it’s only for a minute.  Just let me, okay?”

Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction with her slight nod, causing Jon’s to relax as well.  Digging his fingers lightly into the column of her neck, he soothed away the knots that were intermittently dotted along its length and simply enjoyed touching her.  The smell that wasn’t a scent, but was uniquely Rachel wrapped around him like a favorite, familiar blanket as he worked his way along the curve of her right shoulder.

I need you in my life, Rachel.  When something this simple makes my day perfect, I can’t walk away a second time.  I won’t.

That meant – no matter how much he wanted to pepper her with questions until she provided answers – he was going to command some sort of inner Zen and accept her mandated silence.  It was questionable as to whether or not he possessed that Zen, but, like so many other things he had desired in life, he would will it into being.  Jon was going to simply appreciate her nearness without asking for anything else.

He had just found the curve of her left shoulder when his self-restraint was rewarded.

“I didn’t have a nervous breakdown,” she stated softly.  It was so softly, in fact, that he wasn’t even sure he’d really heard the words or willed those into being alongside the Zen.

“Oh, yeah?”  Jon determinedly kept his tone quiet and calm, so as not to scare the Zen away, even though he was subconsciously planning when to thump James-the-lying bastard’s ass.  “I’m glad to hear that.  Very glad.”

“Mmm...”  He must’ve hit a particularly good spot, because another level of tension seeped from her muscles.  “Strange as it sounds, I guess I should thank you for helping me finally hit rock bottom.  It forced me get help – something I probably should’ve done a long time ago.”   

Rock bottom.  His fingers stuttered in their ministrations while his stomach clenched almost to the point of rejecting the coffee inside it.  James had been telling the truth. 

Don’t look back.  Guilt isn’t going to help either one of you. You can’t fix the past; you can only make a better future.  

Easy to say, but the image of Rachel in so much pain was as heartbreaking as anything he’d ever known.  “Rock bottom” conjured up mental images of a woman broken and alone, huddled into a ball and sobbing.  That wasn’t his Rachel, yet he had made her some semblance of that woman.

If only he’d known. 

If only, what?  What would you have done?  You weren’t any use to yourself.  What makes you think you could’ve helped her with what she went through?

Without a doubt Jon had suffered his own devastation after she left, but instead of cleaning up his mess he made new ones.  Whereas she had chosen self-help, he’d all but wallowed in self-indulgent self-destruction.  The only help he got was extra helpings of wine, women and song. 

It’s not about you, dumbass.  Focus here.     

Besides, she had said “a long time ago” – as in before Jon.  That meant he hadn’t been the sole source of strife; he’d only compounded the problem.

Only.  Jesus, like that’s better.

“Well that explains all the psychological lingo you’ve been using since I got here,” he remarked lightly, resuming his impromptu massage.  The touch was now mainly to reassure himself that she was whole and unbroken.  That he hadn’t broken her.  “Has your ‘help’ given you any great revelations?”

Her head tipped back so that she could catch his eye with a wry grin.  “Yes, as a matter of fact and you’re going to like this.  It turns out you were right.”

 There.  There she was.  His Rachel. 

Some of the dead weight in his chest shifted and he returned her grin with a small one of his own. 

“Well, yeah!  You know how I love to be right.  Wanna feed my ego and tell me which thing I was right about?”

The grin dwindled and she righted her head, so that he was faced with the top of it again. 

“About me always running away.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but I ran away after Nick and the children died, too.  Not physically, just emotionally.”  She gestured to the laptop and file in front of her with the wave of an open hand.  “I dove into work and never really coped with their deaths.”

He squeezed her shoulders supportively.  If his being a prick had been the catalyst to her finally dealing with that loss, then he was prepared to shoulder the blame for the greater good.  Collateral damage, as it were.

“And then with... the death of our relationship, I did the same thing.”  She shrugged under his hands.  “The great revelation is that I don’t ‘do’ loss very well.” 

“Are you better now?” he quietly asked.

“It’s a process, but yeah.  You know me; whatever I’m doing I throw myself into it a hundred percent.  So, once I realized I needed help, I went balls out.  Psychiatrist, life coach, yoga, meditation… you name it, I’m doing it.”

“I’m sorry, Rach.”

She turned slightly in the chair, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as though trying to gauge the genuineness of his words.  Whatever she found must have given the proper assurance, because her right hand slid up and inside his for a warm grasp of appreciation. 

“Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a quiet moment, connected in the way that only they had.  Jon was savoring it, savoring what he had missed.  It pained him that he had to disturb the sweet harmony that had missing from his melodious life, but he had to know...

“What about James’ prediction that you’ll marry and have more kids with him?”

Please tell me that’s never gonna happen, was his silent prayer as the question left his mouth and shattered the tranquility.

Rachel’s hand slid back into her lap and her focus fell to the open file folder.  “I’m aware that’s what James would like.  We’ve talked about it, but he understands I already have so many emotional irons in the fire that I can’t go there right now.”

His prayer had gone unanswered, which was fine.  It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last, but it obligated Jon to point out the obvious. 

“But… James?  I mean, the guy pretty much screwed you over, and now you’re thinking about marrying the jackass?”

The set of her shoulders went taut again and she turned in such a way that forced his hands from her. 

“James knew me before I was married and had kids, and before life kicked my ass.  We used to have a lot of fun together, and frankly, Jon… I need some fun again.”

Fun?  They had talked about getting married, having kids and she thought he was ‘fun’?   That represented a few too many tick marks on the Everywoman’s Bucket List of Life to suit Jon.

Each one of those tick marks made it crystal clear to him that, if there was a chance in hell of winning her back, he needed time with her.   He needed time to talk with her, reason with her, show her he was fun, for God’s sake! 

A sense of urgency overwhelmed him and Jon’s heart beat as hard as it did when he ran ten miles instead of five. 

He needed time to get back into her heart before it really was too late for them – and that time had to start now.

“Rach, I don’t have a show until tomorrow night.  Cancel your trip to Miami and stay here with me.  We… well… we need to be able to talk without watching the clock because one of us has a plane to catch.”

Her blonde hair shook with instant denial and she flipped the file folder closed.  Rolling backward in her chair, she forced him to sidestep away to avoid having his toes run over. 

“First of all, I’m going to Miami for business, not pleasure…”

It didn’t matter to Jon what was going to come out of her mouth next.  All that mattered was keeping her away from Miami, and more importantly, away from Jimbo the Mercedes Man.  With that foremost in his mind, he desperately interrupted her in mid-sentence, reaching for her hand as he did so.

“I can’t explain it, Rach, but I know if we walk away from each other right now we’ll never have another shot.  I feel it in my bones.”  His eyes locked onto hers, all but begging her to see this from his point of view.  “All I’m asking is for you to just give me this one day.  When I leave tomorrow, if you still don’t want anything to do with me, I swear to God I’ll respect that.  I’ll leave you in peace to marry James and have a houseful of kids with the guy if that’s what you really and truly want.”

Rachel swore silently and tried, albeit not very hard, to extract her hand.   When he looked at her with earnestness and candor brimming in his eyes, she was all but lost.  There was a touch of little boy lost in there that just...  did something to her. 

But she couldn’t just let him come charging back into her life, running the show and calling the shots.  That wasn’t acceptable to her new way of life.  Not really...

“Jon, my business commitments are every bit as important as yours.  You can’t show up here in the middle of the night and then expect me to bail on my meetings in Florida because you have some gut feeling.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair, that’s why!  It’s not fair to make me question whether or not there still might be some glimmer of hope for us.”

“But you are questioning it, aren’t you, Rach?”

His lopsided grin materialized like a ray of sunshine, beseeching her to return the smile.  Her lips twitched as she resisted.  She’d just nailed her own coffin shut, as it were.  Her choice of words left no doubt that she was wavering.  Dammit, she wanted to believe there was hope!

She closed her eyes and shook her head before feigning an annoyed glare at the man who could charm a nest of angry rattlesnakes, if he were so inclined.  “You’re absolutely relentless.”

“S’true,” he chuckled, without remorse. 

She’d missed him.  So much.  She’d grown, she’d healed – to a certain extent.  What would it hurt to spend a little time with him?  It shouldn’t take long to find out if he had changed or was going to fall back into the same old routine.  The old Jon wouldn’t have apologized.  That was something, wasn’t it?  

You’re not sleeping with him.  Be... friends. 

“Well, I can’t blow off Miami.  I have an introduction there tomorrow afternoon that’s crucial to my future business.  I’m sorry.”

His grin flattened into a frown, but he nodded.  “Okay.  I get business obligations.  Tell me when I can see you again.”

Immediate acceptance.  Another point in his favor. Maybe he has changed a little, but still...

She tipped her chin up, narrowing her eyes in rebuttal to his cocky assumption.  “What makes you so certain I’ll agree to see you again at all?”

Talk about cockiness! 

He exuded it from every pore as he leaned forward and stroked her cheek with the side of his thumb.  Heat rushed through Rachel as his lips hovered beside hers, so close, but not quite touching them.  He was so near that she felt his breath scorch her skin as he murmured, “Because you’re a brilliant woman who makes brilliant decisions.” 

“And you’re an arrogant, arrogant man.”

His chuckle was sexy beyond all belief as his thumb traced the side of her neck, across her throat and down the front of her chest.  “Not exactly a newsflash, baby, but I don’t think it applies here.  Determined is more appropriate.”

The graze of his thumbnail over her flesh sent goosepimples dancing down her spine.  His lips were tormenting her by hovering so near.  Rachel could almost taste his kiss and the image of it had her strangling like an asthmatic that couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.  He was too damnably intoxicating for her own good.

“And you know why?”

Her mind was all but fried with anticipation as he reversed direction and retraced the path up her neck.  “Why what?” she whispered absently .

“Why you’ll agree to see me again...”

Right.  He was trying to convince her to give him another chance.  Rachel closed her eyes for a long second, greedily inhaling his breath before she cleared her throat to speak.

“Why?”

“Because...”  His fingers snuck under the curtain of her hair, curling around the nape of her neck.  “Even though you won’t do it, you want to kiss me right now.   In fact, I’d wager to say you’re hoping I force a kiss on you.  But it’s not gonna happen, Rachel.” 

“It’s not?”

“No, baby.  Things are gonna be different this time.  Our next kiss is all on you.  It won’t happen until you make it happen.”

Holy mother of pearl!  I can’t decide if I want to knee him in the nuts or fuck him on the desk.

Just about the time Rachel’s eyes dilated and she swallowed hard, he pulled away, gloating at her from his superior height.  “You’ll agree to see me again because you don’t really believe I can keep my hands off you and you want to prove yourself right.”

Rachel Braden loved being right, but damned if she didn’t hate it when he was.