Ch 37 ~ Change Of Plans

“Jon Bon Jovi, as I live and breathe!”  Rick Gordon slapped Jon on the back with a hearty laugh and extended his hand.  The men were currently adrift in the northern California boutique wineries that was hosting all of the wedding events.  Rachel had just left Jon in the separate room that had been set aside for the rehearsal dinner while she went to see what was left to be done and, apparently, her sister Robin had shooed her husband in this direction as well, because Rick was alone.  “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Jon warmly grasped the hand of Rachel’s brother-in-law and radiated a genuine smile.  He’d liked Rick from the moment they met him and, despite the fact that they hadn’t spoken in months, he considered the other man a friend.  A comrade-in-arms, if you will.

“Hey, if it isn’t the father of the bride!  Last minute change of plans.  I surprised Rachel by coming out last night.” 

And, honestly, it had not been one of his better ideas. 

When he’d heard the weariness in her voice the night before, he’d been unable to resist swooping in on his friggin’ white stallion of an airplane to make it all better.  That’s what men did when they were wooing a woman, right?  Well, while it all sounded good on paper, what he had forgotten was that the “damsel in distress” in question was a card-carrying-gun-toting member of the National Rifle Association – and she’d almost blown his head off when he snuck in the bedroom door. 

“Oh my word, you dumbass!” she had scolded once he dropped his bag and threw his hands up in the air, yelling at her to put away the damn gun.  “What are you doing here?”

“At the moment, trying not to get fuckin’ shot,” he drawled, his heart beating faster than he would admit to as she stowed the firearm in the nightstand drawer. 

“Then you shouldn’t be sneaking around in the dark when I’m not expecting you!”  The fear of an intruder put to rest, she slid her arms around his waist and smiled up into his face.  “Now what are you really doing here?”

So he’d confessed that he couldn’t stand the thought of her facing her disapproving family alone at the wedding.  She, of course, told him that was ridiculous and that they were her family, not a band of Middle Eastern terrorists, but he ignored her sarcasm and dragged her to bed.  At that time of night, they were both more interested in sleep than sex, but it had still been good to have her in his arms. 

There’s always tonight.

He didn’t have to be in Fargo until tomorrow evening, which meant that they had all night to execute any dirty deeds he could think of between now and the end of a short dinner. 

A guy could hope, anyway.

He figured there was an outside chance since the rehearsal itself had been mercifully short.  In fact, with the exception of the violinist’s feeble attempt at “Can’t Help Falling In Love”, it had been pretty much painless, as far as Jon was concerned. 

Even the babysitting gig. 

As Rachel’s “significant other”, Jon had walked down the aisle behind her and her groomsmen escort and sat on the end of the first row.  When Hunter, Rachel’s eighteen-month old great-nephew acting as ring bearer, had toddled his way down the aisle, Rachel swooped him up and the two of them joined Jon.  

The kid was cute, having the same blonde hair as the rest of his family, and he happily wiggled on Rachel’s lap as the rehearsal continued around them.  Only occasionally did he whine and reach for his mother, who was also in the wedding party, and even that stopped when he spotted the black beads of Jon’s necklace.  His mama became a distant memory as the little guy fought with every breath to wrap his chubby hand around that necklace and, by the time the rehearsal was over, he was gazing at Jon with an adoration that rivaled all those women who were lucky enough to have Bon Jovi pit seats.    

The rest of her family, he couldn’t exactly say the same of. 

Her parents, sister, niece and nephew had honestly tried to put their best foot forward, they just weren’t all that successful.  Robin was the one who kept trying to cut him to ribbons with her eyes, even as she smiled appropriately. 

Jon didn’t hold it against her.  He appreciated the effort for Rachel’s sake. 

Overall, and with only the exception of a few whispers behind their hands, they’d all pretty much been as warm as ever toward him, but Rick was the only one whom he felt truly comfortable with. 

At least until he dove head-first into the cesspool of crap that Jon had no desire to swim anywhere near.

The guy’s grin was pure evil as Rick shook his head, and they both lifted wine glasses from a passing waiter.  “Dude, you must have balls of steel to voluntarily take on this crowd when you had a get out of jail free card.  I’m impressed.”    

Jon helped himself to a sip of the local wine offering before putting on a smile and pretending there was no subtext behind Rick’s comment.  “What?  You think I could pass up on the chance to see your pansy ass cryin’ like a baby when your baby girl walks away a married woman?”

“Rat bastard,” Rick swore around a swig of his own drink and then scowled.  “I’m not losing a daughter, I’m gaining a son.”

“Who is gonna knock up that daughter.  You know how that happens, right?”  He couldn’t resist grinning as the slightly older man flipped him the bird.

“You are a real dickhead, yanno?  I hope I’m around when your daughter gets married, so I can give you graphic visual images of what the groom is gonna do to her on their wedding night.”

“No and hell no!” Jon chuckled.  “Stay the hell away from my daughter’s wedding.”

“Fine, fine.  On one condition…”  Rick wiggled thick, dark eyebrows and nudged him with an elbow.  “You gotta tell me about this hot little threesome you cooked up, buddy.”

Jon cringed and surreptitiously glanced around to make sure no one else was within earshot.  “Ah, Christ, man, do you hafta ask?  I’m sure you read plenty.”

“I wish!  I’ve seen pictures of the women, but Robin slapped the magazine out of my hand when I started drooling.  I didn’t get to read the juicy details.”

That explained why Robin had been the least friendly of the bunch.  She had a tendency to look at Jon like he was a disease-infested rodent even as she was smiling. 

“I’ll smuggle you a copy, but don’t lemme get caught talkin’ about it.  I’m gonna be doin’ hard time on that one for a while.”

“Oh c’mon!  Let a guy live vicariously would you?  I mean, I did the threesome thing back in high school but I was so drunk I woke up with a couple girls in my bed and didn’t remember a thing.  Tell me what I missed!”

“Yeah, well…”  He pulled a frown and rolled his eye.  “You don’t wanna live vicariously through my ‘whoring around like a 20 yr old’, as Rachel puts it.  I’m lucky I can still get it up after the way she ripped my ass.”

Rick all but doubled over in laughter, gaining him a punch in the shoulder from Jon and a wicked glare from his wife, Robin.  He dropped his voice to a taunting whisper as he waved congenially his wife.  “Well, you don’t have to worry about getting it up tonight, because Rachel volunteered to keep Hunter.  Don’t teach the boy anything you refuse to tell me about.”

“What?  Wait.”  Jon grabbed the other man’s elbow when he would’ve gone to his assigned seat.  “When did she do that?”

Rick shrugged.  “I just know that since Hunter’s parents are in the wedding party, they’re pretty tied up this weekend and Rachel said it was no problem to watch the baby tonight and tomorrow.”

Jon bit back a growl of frustration at having his one night with Rachel stolen away.  So much for his list of dirty deeds…

Just.  Fucking.  Great. 

Ch 36 - Size Matters

In the days after Jon and Rachel’s appearances in Las Vegas, the press published dozens of pictures of their time in Sin City.  The most popular were the ones that had been surreptitiously snapped during Cher’s show.  Those were…  revealing, even in her eyes.  There was no denying the emotion between her and Jon, and it was particularly evident in one photo.  The photographer had been somewhere behind them and caught a silhouette shot that, even without analyzing the background, she knew was taken during “After All”.  Why?  Because she looked positively besotted and he didn’t look any less so. 

Fickle as they were, though, some of the media outlets overlooked those and went directly on to speculating that they’d gone their separate ways.  That’s what happened when the press caught wind of Rachel returning home after Bon Jovi’s Denver show, while he carried on with the tour.  Little did they know it was only his charming ways after the Cher show that lured her into going as far as Denver in the first place. 

The story of “them” was deemed credible enough to escalate past the level of “gossip” and surpassed the level of grocery store rags.  More credible publications like People Magazine and US Weekly had both picked up the story and printed the accompanying photos.  The “Seattle Slew”, as she had come to think of Jon’s tawdry threesome, had died down in the wake of legitimate news. 

At least in the public eye. 

With the her niece, Lauren’s, wedding now only days away, Rachel thought her family would manage to overlook the Seattle Slew in the flurry of preparations.  No such luck.   When she joined them for a mid-week “girl’s day out”, the very same magazines that were being hawked at the grocery store checkout stands were prominently displayed at the salon.  It gave them both the glorious opportunity to question (grill) Rachel and discuss (at length) the soundness of her decision to move forward in a relationship with Jon.

It left Rachel weary, and the work she’d used to successfully immerse herself in so many times wasn’t providing any respite this time around.

The girls in the office had known absolutely nothing of her connection to “the” Jon Bon Jovi prior to the media hailstorm.  Now everyone in the office knew and found a thousand ways to casually ask questions about her intimate relationship with fame.  For the most part, they were easily satisfied and easily brushed off. 

However, once James got wind of it…

“Rachel, could I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, stepping inside her office and closing the door.

“Of course, James,” she immediately agreed, naively assuming he wanted to discuss her problematic client that was still trying to back out of a sale.  “What’s up?”

Parking himself in one of her guest chairs and crossing his legs, he regarded her solemnly.  “I think you’re making a mistake.”

“I’m sorry?  Do you think I should have handled Josie’s situation differently?”

“No, no,” he waved off the concern with a flick of his wrist.  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the sleazy putz who is splashed all over the tabloids.”

Oh great.  Here we go…

She arched one eyebrow at him.  “I’ll assume you’re talking about Jon and not me?”

“Of course I’m not talking about you!  Rachel, how can you seriously think this guy is better for you than I am?  You hate being the center of attention, yet I can’t go to the grocery store without seeing your face on a tabloid.”

James was right.  She could mix and mingle with practically anyone, but she’d much prefer being able to blend into the woodwork after she did so.  Putting her life out there for the world to digest wasn’t something that had exactly been on her bucket list, but life didn’t always work out the way it was planned.  If nothing else had come of her “grief counseling”, she’d learned that much. 

“That’s true.  I certainly wouldn’t have chosen to be hounded by photographers, but sometimes you have to make a sacrifice for the greater good.”

“Well, you know, a life with me wouldn't put you in a position like this.”  

“James, I thought we’d already had this discussion…”

“No, no,” he protested, holding up a hand.  “Hear me out.  You’re a refined, elegant woman who likes her privacy.  He’s out wielding his dick as if he’s on the ark – two by two – and advertising it to the free world.  I mean, seriously, Rachel…  How can you possibly feel good about that?”

She rubbed subtly at her temple, where a headache was starting to form.  The temptation was to tell him to go fuck himself and get the hell out of her office, but there was a fine line that had to be walked. 

Firstly, she liked to think of herself as loyal and James really went above and beyond when she’d come back emotionally bruised and hurting.   He’d held her hand while she healed and held reasonable expectations that she might eventually pursue a life and future with him.  Truthfully, he’d been pretty gracious about stepping aside when Jon reappeared.

And then there was the fact that he was her boss… 

But if she looked at it in that light, he was crossing the line – big time.  Her personal life was irrelevant to her work life unless it affected performance.  Considering the deals that she’d managed since Jon had returned, she reined in her annoyance – to the best of her ability – and managed to sound only moderately condescending when replying, “I know you’re not playing the man whore card here, because you bought and dealt that deck when you cheated on me the first time around.  That pretty well took away your authority to pass any kind of moral judgment, as far as I’m concerned.”

“That’s different,” he protested leaning forward in his chair.  “I’ve told you time and again I was just a stupid kid when that happened.  I grew up.  He clearly hasn’t.”

Neither have you, if you can’t accept my decision and move on.

She sat up perfectly straight in her chair and met his gaze dead-on so that there could be no misunderstanding in what she was about to say. 

“James, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but this is truly none of your business.  If you’d like to discuss something related to work, then my door is always open.  If you want to second-guess my judgment in my personal relationships, please don’t bother even knocking.”

A thundercloud darkened his handsome features as he pushed to his feet.  “If I’d realized you’d be so open-minded to a threesome, I would’ve made that proposition long ago.”

She knew he was only striking out because he was hurt, but it took a deep dip into her pool of restraint to keep Rachel from leaning across the desk and slapping him.  Her voice remained incredibly calm when she requested quietly, “Please leave.”

He was already halfway to the door, turning back to her with his hand on the knob.  “I won’t pick up the pieces for you this time, Rachel.”

“There won’t be any pieces this time.  He’s the one that makes me whole.” 

The door shuddered behind him when he slammed it, “silently” venting his displeasure with her parting shot.

Okay, so that last little bit was her just being bitchy, but she still managed to deliver it in an even and civil tone.  That deserved at least three gold stars from the etiquette books on successfully managing a personal life in the workplace.  Maybe four.

All in all, the two days she’d been home had been hellish and by the end of this particular day, she wanted a glass of wine and a long, luxurious soak in the tub.  Feeling especially self-indulgent, the glass she chose was one of Jon’s favorites – the really big ones that held almost half a bottle of wine each. 

By the time her bubbles had dissolved and the water went tepid, she had come to share his appreciation with the oversized stemware.  In fact, she appreciated it so much that she took a second glass to bed to ensure that she would either get the most fantastic night’s sleep ever, or pass out. 

She wasn’t opposed to either, but when her phone rang around eleven o’clock she was glad she hadn’t passed out.  Considering the late hour – and short of an unexpected family emergency – the caller had to be Jon, and she didn’t want to miss a minute of their time “together”.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hi, baby.”  He sounded tired, but his voice still carried a smile and that, in turn, made her smile.  “How’s my girl tonight?”

“I am currently in awe of your wine vessel wisdom.”

“Is that code for ‘drunk off your ass’?” he asked on a quiet chuckle.  “Because only a drunk could make sense of that.” 

She scooted down into the bed, snuggling into the pillow.  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, how complicated is it?  I decided you’re right.  The big wine glasses are the best ones.”

“Ahhhh…  So you are drunk.  Looks like I have some catchin’ up to do.”  A noisy slurp rattled over the line, followed by a quiet belch and a contented sigh. 

“You’re a pig,” she laughed, pathetically amused by his blatant “manliness”.

“Mebbe.  I know I wouldn’t mind porking you….”

“Oh my word, you’re awful!  Moving on…!   How was tonight’s show?  You’re in…. Omaha, right?”

“No, that was night before last.   We played Wichita tonight.”

“I get all those corn places mixed up,” she lightly admitted.  “Regardless, I’m sure you rocked ‘em all, right?”

“You know I did, baby.” As much as she hated to admit it, his arrogance was a teeny-tiny bit hot.  Or maybe she was just hot because of the wine’s influence.  She fanned her face as he hesitantly changed topics.  “So…  Paul showed me the magazines.  You doin’ okay?”

Oh, honey.  Can we talk about anything other than those damn magazines? 

But she wouldn’t voice the inward groan.  Any penance that was due, he’d already paid, so she didn’t feel the need to heap anymore fuel onto a fire that she wished were extinguished.  It was nothing he didn’t go through every day, after all.

Well, except for that whole “open to a threesome thing” with James.

She was momentarily tempted by the devil on her shoulder to replay that whole scenario for him.  If nothing else, the sheer entertainment value would amuse her to no end, but seeing as he’d had a long day already, she passed.

“I’m fine.”

“What about your family?”

No, actually they’re giving you shit.  They don’t think I can think my way out of a wet paper bag.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He emitted a drawn-out sound of skepticism.  “Not crazy ‘bout the sound of that, sweetheart.  They givin’ you a hard time?”

“It’s fine, Jon,” she sighed, reaching for her wineglass and sipping.  “Everybody is just a little hyper this week with all the last minute wedding preparations.  After that, things will settle down and get back to normal.”   

Jon scowled at the television screen, blind to whatever national news CNN was running at the moment.  He knew they’d handled the situation in the best possible manner.  The “good” press was out there in abundance, but it didn’t erase the “bad” press in the public’s eye, much less her family’s.  He was sure they were doing everything they could to convince her to dump his ass because of the questionable behavior that had gone viral. 

And he was leaving her to deal with it on her own. 

He scowled more deeply.  It seemed like he should be defending himself, or at least defending her decision to be with him.  He wasn’t a social fucktard who was going to get caught whacking off in a porn movie theatre.  Or pay for a whore.  Or…  well, anything that related to sex without relating to Rachel.  

He was a decent guy.

Then do the decent thing.

Jesus, he hated weddings. 

But the truth was that, by air, he was only a few hours away.  There was no show the next night and he could leave right after the wedding on Saturday with enough time to make it back to North Dakota and sound check. 

This embarrassment was caused by him and while he didn’t much care what anybody thought, including Rachel’s family, he also didn’t want her to have to face her entire circle of family and friends with this hanging in the air.   If he was going to prove to her – and everyone else – that she was THE priority in his life…  It was time to put his money where his mouth was. 

Ch 35 ~ I Found Someone

The VIP lounge was pretty quiet tonight, Jon thought as he got Rachel a tequila and himself a glass of wine.  There were a couple of people he vaguely recognized, but no one he felt compelled to talk to.  Considering that he had his hands full with Rachel, it was a plus. 

“Now where the hell did she go?” he mumbled to himself, looking around the room that wasn’t much bigger than a basketball court.  Could he have seriously lost her in the time it took him to get a drink?  Had she had enough of the press bullshit and made a break for it?

She probably went to powder her nose or something, dumbass.

It took another couple of seconds, but he finally spotted the beautiful blonde in the sexy black dress.  He also discovered why he didn’t see her in the first place.  She was being blocked by a woman with a towering head dress.

“Well, hello, Jonny Boy,” Cher greeted him in her famously husky rasp, offering her cheek for a kiss. 

Jon passed Rachel her tequila, noting that she looked a bit starstruck.  He grinned to himself, wondering when the celebrity thing would get old for her.  Right now, it was pretty cute to watch her try and reconcile an album cover photo to the real live person standing in front of her. 

“Cher,” he returned the greeting and delivered the expected Hollywood-style kiss.  “How are ya, baby?”

“Oh, you know… Same shit different decade.”

“Oh how well I know,” he agreed with a laugh.  “I see you met my girlfriend, Rachel.”

Rachel swallowed her sip of tequila and stuck her hand out.  “We hadn’t exactly gotten around to exchanging names, yet.  I’m Rachel Braden.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms….?”

“Oh, it’s just Cher, honey.”  The diva waved away the proffered hand and gave her a light hug, air kissing near her cheek.  “Jonny Boy and I go way back, so anybody who can put up with his shit enough to be called a girlfriend…  Well, we should definitely be on a first name basis.”

“Now, you…”  Jon waggled his finger at her.  “Don’t you start bad-mouthing me already. This is why I made you quit hanging out with my guitar player.”

The woman’s snort was just short of being delicate.  “What’s this ‘made me’ shit, Kemosabe?  And speaking of which, where is your infamous Tonto?”

“He had other plans tonight.”  Jon turned to Rachel, mentioning, “I don’t know if you know it or not, but Richie and Cher had a thing back in the late eighties, early nineties.”

“I believe I do recall something like that,” Rachel murmured politely.  Whether she actually did or not, Jon had no idea. 

“Yes, I was his sexual muse.”  She gave a quiet, throaty chuckle.  “And he was my boy toy.  And lemme, tell ya, honey…  he was one helluva toy.”

“Hey now,” Jon interceded.  “My lady has no need to know anything about Sambora’s toys.”

Rachel’s eyes glittered with wickedness.  “Oh, I don’t know.  That might be fun information to have.”

“I will spare Jonny Boy from knowing any more gory details than he already knows.  Besides, I think it’s your toys making the headlines lately.  Got caught with your pants around your ankles, did ya, Bongiovi?”

He couldn’t exactly give one of the biggest divas in history the Jersey salute, even if it was his first reaction.  Quelling the desire, he ducked his head with what could be construed as embarrassment, but Jon wasn’t that easily embarrassed.  Especially by Cher.  He’d outgrown his embarrassment around her while she was bopping his buddy.  The woman had zero modesty.

No, the evasive maneuver was more to buy himself a moment.  Too bad a moment was longer than it took Cher to carry on.

“No answer necessary, but Jesus, son.  When are you gonna get tired of that shit?”  She tapped Rachel’s arm with the backs of her fingers.  “Am I right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Rachel agreed with a wide grin.  “My sentiments exactly!”

“Okay, okay…  Cut it out.  I get it, already.”

Cher’s inky arched eyebrows lifted cattily.  “If I were her, you sure as hell wouldn’t be gettin’ it.  If you aren’t careful, that thing’s gonna shrivel up and fall off one of these days.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.  “Retract your claws already, would ya?”

An elegantly bare shoulder slid up in a careless shrug.  “You’re using me and my show to pimp your image.  I feel like I’m entitled.”

Rachel’s eyes went big and she immediately brought her glass up for a drink.  She was obviously afraid they’d been busted for a tacky impropriety, but Jon wasn’t concerned.

For good reason.

“Rachel,” Cher said with a nonchalant flip of her wrist.  “Don’t be mortified on my account.  He’d be a dumbass if he didn’t take advantage of every good bit of press he can get.  It would be nice if were at least a little embarrassed that he needed it, but eh…”  She shrugged again.  “You can take the boy outta Jersey, but you can’t take the Jersey outta the boy.”

“I can’t say that I’m too upset about that,” Rachel inserted.  “There’s something about that Jersey-esque-ness that kinda appeals to me.”

The woman of the hour threw her head back in a wide, open laugh.  “You and half the free world, honey.  You and half the free world.”

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

By the third song, Rachel recognized the difference between Jon’s “show” and what she would call a true show – such as Cher’s.  The two performers were electric and you couldn’t take your eyes off either one, but the experience was completely different.

With Jon, it was an actual concert.  They way he performed on the stage garnered the atmosphere of an intimate – albeit very large – party.  Cher, on the other hand, took her role as a “performer” to heart.  There were enough set, costume and cast changes to rival any Broadway production and she was the leading lady in all her grandeur.  Both were incredibly engaging – just in two completely different ways. 

“She needs all that shit because she can’t run all over the stage and jump up and down in those goddamn heels,” Jon revealed in Rachel’s ear with a sage nod.

“Oh, hush,” she chastised him with a light tap on the arm.  “You’re just jealous that your posture isn’t good enough to support a Las Vegas headpiece like that.”

There was one notable likeness between the two concerts, though.  Like Jon’s show, Rachel found she was familiar with most of Cher’s setlist and recognized the songs after only a few notes.  As soon as the piano started playing the fourth song and Cher made her entrance dressed as a pirate, Rachel excitedly gripped Jon’s thigh and squealed, “Ooh!  I love this one!”

Somebody, somewhere

Turns out the lights…

Somebody, all alone

Faces the night….

And you’ve got to be strong

When you’re out on your own

‘Cause sooner or later … we all sleep alone.

Jon grinned and tried to smother a cocky smile, but he didn’t do a very good job of it.  His tone carried more than a bit of pride when he leaned over to put his mouth at her ear and revealed, “I wrote that song.”

Rolling her eyes, Rachel slapped his leg. “You did not.”

“I did.”  He laughed and held up his right hand as though he were taking an oath.  “Swear to God.  Produced a couple songs for her and wrote one for another album of hers.”

“Well aren’t you just the talented one?” 

Rachel was undeniably impressed.  To know he wrote songs to perform for his shows was one thing, but to write songs for a superstar like Cher.  Not that Jon wasn’t a superstar…  Crap!  She had just dug herself a hole, making her glad she hadn’t spoken the thoughts aloud. 

She rubbed her hand guiltily over the spot she had just slapped.  “Let me listen to this song and I’ll see if it’s good enough to give you the benefit of my talents….”

He folded his hand over hers with a grin.  “Oh it’s good enough.”

Nobody, nowhere

Holds the key to your heart…

When love’s a possession

It’ll tear you apart

You may have lovers, wherever you roam

But sooner or later, we all sleep alone, 

Don’t make no promises that I can’t keep

I won’t be no prisoner of somebody’s needs

And you may have lovers wherever you roam

Well, but sooner or later… Ooh, we all sleep alone.

That selection ended and another recognizable hit began, tugging at Rachel’s curiosity.  She put a gentle elbow into his side and leaned close.   “Did you write this, too??

“Nah.  Michael Bolton, I think.”

But he was pleased that she’d asked.  She could tell because his chest actually puffed out a bit.  It made her giggle inside.

“Well, I’ve always loved this one, too.”  Rachel was captivated by the whole experience.  The glitz, the glamour, getting to meet one of the greatest divas of all time and now knowing that Jon had at least a small hand in it.  “I’m glad we came tonight – even if it WAS supposed to just be for press.”

“See?  You’re GLAD I created this mess, aren’t you?” he gloated with a teasing wink.

“No comment,” she replied dryly, bumping him with her shoulder and smiling.  “Did you see what I did there?  ‘No comment’.  It came out just like second nature.  I’ve learned how to swim in shark infested waters.”

His chuckle warmed her as she settled into his side and turned her attention back to the elaborate stage presentation and became so engrossed that, mid-way through the show, she’d completely why they were there in the first place.  It was good for them to just relax together, with no thought of the recent chaos or the ominous tick-tock of their time together.

She wasn’t used to that.  Things were different when she’d been staying in New Jersey and he didn’t have so many work commitments.  They had spent virtually every night together and Rachel was missing that freedom a bit.  Tomorrow night she would be sleeping alone, just like the Cher song, because he was continuing on with his tour while she went home to work and family obligations.

Worry about tomorrow only robs you of today’s joy.

And – despite the drama that unfolded while she was here – it was a joy being with him again, she thought as the enormous screens filled with images of Cher in her various film roles.  The melodious tinkling of piano and flute filled the room and immediately enchanted Rachel with its delicate lilt.  The very first lyrics held her entranced. 

Well, here we are again

I guess it must be fate

We've tried it on our own

But deep inside we've known

We'd be back to set things straight

Rachel’s heart soared as goosebumps danced along her skin.  The lyrics were nothing short of…  prophetic?  No, not prophetic, but if ever there was a song that was “theirs” – one that told of their journey together – it would surely be this one. 

She had just begun to chastise herself for the silly romanticism, feeling certain that she must just be caught up in the bigger-than-life moment that had been created on stage, when Jon’s hand reached for hers.  He squeezed lightly and leaned just a bit closer into her. 

Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was making the connection between life and lyrics.   

I still remember when

Your kiss was so brand new

Every memory repeats

Every step I take retreats

Every journey always brings me back to you

After all the stops and starts

We keep coming back to these two hearts

Two angels who've been rescued from the fall

And after all that we've been through

It all comes down to me and you

I guess it's meant to be

Forever you and me

After all

When love is truly right (this time it's truly right)

It lives from year to year

It changes as it goes

Oh, and on the way it grows

But it never disappears

Rachel’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears and her soul overflowed with love as she tore her eyes from the stage to Jon.  There were no words exchanged, but when Jon turned his face to hers… their eyes spoke volumes.   

I fell in love with a man, not a fairytale prince.  A man who makes mistakes like any other, but who has goodness in his heart.  A man who loves me enough to wade through hell and high water to get me back.  No matter what the tabloids bring, I am grateful beyond belief to have him at my side.

He grinned at her tears and swiped at an errant one that tried to trek down her cheek.  There were no ministers, rings or flowers, but there were thousands of witnesses to a moment in Rachel’s life that was as solemn and meaningful as the day she had actually gotten married or given birth to her children. 

With a simple, “I love you, Rach,” Jon puckered his lips and leaned into her for a kiss that sealed their future.

After all the stops and starts

We keep coming back to these two hearts

Two angels who've been rescued from the fall

And after all that we've been through

It all comes down to me and you

I guess it's meant to be

Forever you and me…

After all

Ch 34 ~ Smooth Talker

“Happy,” Rachel muttered, flipping through the closet in the master bedroom.  “In love.  What the hell does one wear that screams happy and in love to a bunch of paparazzi?  That’s appropriate for the ‘woman’ of a rock legend to wear to another rock legend’s concert?  In Las Vegas?  Ugh!”

Whatever it was, she had not packed it. 

Sure, she’d been photographed the last two nights on Jon’s arm, but those had been largely accidental situations.  Whatever photographer had been skulking in the area snapped a pic.  This time there was a choreographed agenda, so that made it feel different in her mind. 

If she were being truthful about it, Rachel wanted to look her best for the woman in Seattle selling her stories to the press.  She wanted that woman to know she was firmly in the past.  Forgotten.  It was a little obnoxious to think that way, and she knew it, but whoever the She-Devil was that had needed a friend’s help to satisfy Jon… well, she had it coming to her. 

At least that was the story Rachel told herself.  It had taken two women to keep his mind off of her that night.  That was the most positive spin she could put on it and still retain her sanity. 

Since she had no outfit that would flip that woman the proverbial bird, Rachel told Jon she was going shopping.  Like any good man who found himself in the doghouse, Jon dutifully dug out his wallet and passed over a credit card that she had no intention of using. 

But he didn’t need to know that. 

She accepted it with a smile, blew him a kiss, and headed for Crystals.

Drifting in and out of name brand clothiers, Rachel couldn’t find anything that spoke to her.  She didn’t want to look trashy-sexy, but she didn’t want to dress too dull either.  Since she was the “woman” of a rock star, and it was Las Vegas, she assumed there was a little leeway that she wouldn’t normally have.  Classically tailored and timelessly elegant was not necessarily appropriate or required.

But I’m not buying new shoes.

Whatever she found would have to go with the sexy snakeskin sandals that were in the suite. 

“Ooh,” she murmured to herself, spying a dress in the window of a little shop.  It was flowy with long-sleeves and a modest neckline, but it wasn’t conservative.  The free-flowing minidress hit at mid-thigh and the sleeves were cut out all the way down, only coming together at the wrist and the shoulder.  And it was black.

“Perfect.”

It had even more of an edge when she slipped on the shoes from Miami, she thought spinning in front of the suite’s bedroom mirror.  Those shoes just did something for her.  Gave her a little extra boost in the self-confidence department.  Given that she felt a little like the proverbial lamb being led to slaughter, a little extra boost in the self-confidence department was not a bad thing. 

She took a final look in the bedroom mirror and quickly ran over the advice Jon’s public relations manager had gone over with her earlier in the day.  He’d primed her to be ready for reporters saying all sorts of ugly things in order to get a response from her, but all Rachel had to do was smile and tune them out. 

No problem.  I can do that, right?  With Jon by my side looking good enough to eat, why should I care what anybody says or thinks?

“Stop frowning, Rach.  You look beautiful and there’s nothing gonna happen tonight that I can’t handle.  I promise.”  Jon’s voice interrupted her emotional mini-seizure.  When he stepped behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, she actually believed him.  “I’m really sorry I created this mess and, in case I haven’t mentioned it, I appreciate the way you’re handling it.”

Turning in his arms, Rachel brushed the mussed hair off his forehead and finger combed the hair behind his ears.  It was habit, she thought, for her to have her hands in that caramel-y head of hair she so loved, especially when offering him comfort. 

“Let’s not keep on with the ‘I’m sorry’ crap, okay?  You apologized and I accept.  I don’t need a pound of flesh on top of it.”

Jon’s eyes squinted completely shut and he briefly bit on his own lip trying to contain his thoughts from turning into actual words… but he just couldn’t help himself.  “Can I have your flesh on top of me?”

Rachel was tired of being a bitch.  She was tired of missing the easy affection and comradery that made them “them”.  And he was so adorable she didn’t want to resist him another second.

So she pulled his head down so he was close enough to kiss, without actually touching his lips.  “Let’s get through this public appearance thing before we talk about what we’re doing afterward, ‘kay?”

“Ooh!”  His eyebrows shot up toward his perfectly mussed hair and a spark brightened his shuttered eyes.  “So that means there’s hope I’ll actually get that ninety-eight pounds of Rachel flesh?”

“Oh, honey,” she purred with a wink.  “Ninety-eight pounds?  You are a PR genius.” 

                                                              

********************

Ken Sunshine had set up a path out of the hotel that would allow the absolute most exposure and opportunity to be seen, Rachel discovered.  The previous two nights when leaving the hotel, she and Jon hadn’t gone through the lobby or used the main entrance.  That was not the case this night, and they were definitely being noticed. 

Most of the cameras clicking away were embedded in cell phones that belonged to hotel guests and casual photographers, but the moment they stepped out into the night air, the true professional paparazzi were easy to spot.  With their enormous cameras and obnoxiously loud voices bellowing out an array of offensive questions, they weren’t exactly subdued.  In fact, they were aggressive as hell.  

“Good grief!” Rachel exclaimed, sinking into the backseat of their hired car.  “And I thought the trip to New York New York was bad.  That was insane!”

Jon squeezed her hand.  “It’s like I always say, babe:  being famous is a by-product of my job, but being infamous is a choice.  The celebrities who play it low key and go about their business like normal, everyday people have lives that aren’t so different from anyone else.  The ones you see splashed all over the news and tabloids every other day…  Well, that’s because they purposely get mobbed by the photographers.  They want to be seen.”

“And tonight we want to be seen,” she sighed. 

“Yeah, we do.”  He leaned over and kissed her cheek.  Whether by accident or design, Rachel was glad he left her lipstick intact as the vehicle pulled up to the entrance of Caesar’s Palace.  “Now brace yourself.  This round is going to be a little crazier.”

He wasn’t kidding. 

While it played into Jon’s game plan, the crush of photographers that circled them the minute they stepped out of the SUV was more than Rachel had anticipated.  Apparently, many a famous actor, musician or politician made their way to Caesar’s for Cher’s nightly show, and it was an easy buck for paparazzi who were willing to bide their time and stake out the limo stand. 

Two steps was all it took for her to feel ill at the vile things the press was shouting trying to get a response from Jon or her, and she found herself squeezing his hand in a death grip as he led her through the crowd.  He smiled into the cameras and she automatically followed suit, doing nothing more than that until they reached the elevator. 

When the doors slid shut, blocking the vultures away, they were momentarily alone, except for Matt, who was handling Jon’s security.  Even then, she didn’t speak, just slowly blew out the breath she’d been holding since they got out of the car.

Jon chuckled softly and crooked an arm around her neck, pulling her into his side.  “You did great, babe.”

Still frazzled, Rachel nodded mutely and follow him out of the elevator – where they were unfortunate enough to run into a new set of media.  This time, though, instead of being the traditional paparazzi, it was a reporter and camera crew from Entertainment Tonight doing a segment on Cher’s residency at Caesar’s. 

They were caught.  Jon could do nothing but stop and acknowledge them. 

Rachel reattached the smile to her face as she stopped just behind Jon on his right.  She expected him to release her hand and let her blend into the woodwork while he did his bit for the camera, but that was not the case.  His grip only got tighter and he used it to subtly pull her forward so that she was standing directly at his side.

Just in time for the reporter to start gushing into the camera like a used car salesman. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, look who just showed up in the belly of Caesar’s Palace!  Rock God Jon Bon Jovi himself!”

Rachel mentally rolled her eyes, but her expression never faltered as Jon flashed his press smile.  Now knowing her place in this exchange, she gave his hand a quick squeeze so that he could extend it to the reporter. 

“How ya doin’, pal?” 

Pal, she knew, was Jon’s ‘go to’ when he couldn’t remember someone’s name and he didn’t care enough to be reminded.  She’d heard him use it several times on this trip alone, while they were out on their FunFest. 

The two men spoke briefly of Bon Jovi’s tour, Cher’s longevity and finally….

“So, Jon… after nearly 30 years in the music business, women are still throwing themselves at you.  I wouldn’t think it would ever get old, but how does your recent sex-capade compare to those back in the day?  Is it still as exciting as it once was?” 

Jon’s acting background must have taken root in his subconscious, because Rachel found him to be flawless in both his body language and response. 

“The most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time is this lady right here.”  He turned and smiled down at her, bestowing an affectionate wink before turning back to his pal.  “Anything else comes in a distant second place.”

“What about the Viagra rumors?” the reporter pushed, digging into his sleazy bag of questions.

Again, Jon had no reaction other than the perfect one.  “I hear stock is up,” he quipped, his perfect smile returning to play.

“So, you’re denying the use of Viagra?”

“Listen, man…  I’ve got the number one tour in the world and I’ve got the number one girl in the world.  If you wanna talk about either of those, I’m your guy.  Viagra I’m not qualified to speak about.”   

He bestowed a quick pat on the reporter’s arm, granted him another flashy smile and uttered a “Good to see you, pal,” that would pass for sincere.  With that, he ended the ‘interview’, dismissing the man with the same flair he’d handled the obnoxious question. 

Matt immediately put out his arm, clearing the way for them to proceed down the passageway.  It was only a few feet before he pulled open a door and ushered them into a blissfully quiet VIP lounge, where Rachel finally felt safe to let out a sigh of relief. 

“Is the worst over?” she asked, angling her face upward with hope brimming in her eyes. 

Please let it be over.  I need a break and a shot of tequila.

“Probably,” he murmured with a soft smile and lightly brushed his fingertips over her cheek.  “You handled yourself like a pro, Rach.  I’m proud of you.”

Ch 33 ~ Game On

Even in the early morning hours, Las Vegas was hot.  Running in the heat, combined with the excessive amount of liquor and the lack of sleep the night before, left Rachel cranky, sweaty and thirsty.  All she wanted when she returned to the hotel room was a cool shower and a huge glass of icy water.

Instead, she got Ground Zero for Bon Jovi PR damage control. 

She found Jon deep in conversation with Paul and Ken Sunshine, his public relations guru, and she didn’t have to question the topic they were discussing.  None of the men looked happy.  

Well, they weren’t the only ones who weren’t happy.  The reminder of Jon’s stupid behavior was made fresh all over again and, despite her exhausting run, Rachel was instantly tense and irritable.  That irritability was fed by her mother’s distinctive ringtone pealing from Rachel’s phone charging on the counter. 

“Rachel, you need to join this conversation,” Jon instructed her loudly, to be heard over the ringing. 

Irritability escalated into downright bitchiness as the hounds of media hell snapped at her heels from every direction.

“In a minute, Jon.  Right now my mom’s ringing my phone off the hook, probably because she’s heard about your Seattle shenanigans.  I can only deal with one acid rainstorm at a time,” she barked, snatching the phone from the counter and stalked to the bedroom while swiping the screen with a sharp flick of her wrist.  “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey…  How are you?”

Rachel wasn’t in the mood to play the polite game, even with her mother.  She’d rather get to the point and move on. 

“I'm fine.  Did you need something, Mom?”

“Well, yes, actually.  Your cousin, Tanya, sent Robin and me some stories that are floating around on the internet about Jon.  Have you seen them?”

“No, I haven’t actually seen them, but I’m aware that they exist.”

“So this is just tabloid fodder?  There’s no truth to it, right?  That’s what I told-”

Of course her mom would assume it was made up drivel.  Who wouldn’t?  Things like this didn’t happen in real life and, if they did, she naturally assumed Rachel wouldn’t be in a relationship with a man who would do them. 

Me either, Mom.  Me either.

She couldn’t let her mother parade around her staunch convictions that Jon would do no such thing when he had, so Rachel cut her off in mid-sentence, “They’re true, Mom.  Well, mostly anyway.  There may be a detail here or there that isn’t accurate but for the most part, yeah… they’re true.   I don’t like it, but it was while we were apart and we’re dealing with it.”

“Oh my word...  You’re dating a man who sleeps with two women at a time.  That’s so far removed from our world that I don’t even know how to process it.  What do you buy someone like that for Christmas?  Extra condoms?”

For the first time in the whole fiasco, Rachel laughed.  Throughout her lifetime, she’d had many a frank conversation with her mother.  Dear old Mom wasn’t a prude and she had no problem addressing the taboo with a simple forthright approach, and this debacle was no different.

“He did that, but he’s not someone like that.  Or he’s not anymore.  How we handle this… situation… is between Jon and me, and we’ll work through it.  I agree it’s distasteful, but it happened while we were apart, so that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“You’re sure about this, then?  About him?  After… this, you’ve thought about what kind of life you’re setting yourself up for?”

“He’s not perfect, but neither am I.  The difference is my mistakes are of no interest to the rest of the world.  I love him and I’m committed to a life with him, so if a little rain falls on me in the building of that life, I plan to shake it off and keep going.”

“As long as you’re sure….”

“I am.”

The remainder of the call was brief, but before hanging up, Rachel made it clear the topic wasn’t going to be open for further discussion with Tanya or Robin or anyone else.  Case closed, end of discussion.  Her mother agreed and said she was looking forward to seeing her at the wedding that weekend.

Even more wrung out now than she was when she walked in the door, Rachel decided that Jon and his associates would just have to wait a few more minutes.  If she was going to have any chance of chaining her inner bitch, she needed a cool, refreshing shower before joining them.  Then, of course, there were the typical post-shower activities – hair, moisturizer from head to toe, finding some comfy clothes…

Finally, she’d stalled as long as she reasonably could and resigned herself to joining the three men.  They were no longer in the living area of the suite, but seated at the large dining table at the opposite end of the room.  From the looks of things, they’d decided to have lunch brought in while she was showering.

“I ordered you a salad with chicken,” Jon informed her peevishly over his own salad as she pulled out the chair at the end of the table closest to him.  “And iced tea.”

His tone immediately rubbed her the wrong way.  He could be peeved all he liked, but she was still put out with him and had no inclination to jump just because he snapped his fingers. 

Guess I could’ve skipped the shower.  The bitch is running free anyway.

“Thank you.”  Leaning forward, she reached for the plate he had indicated and removed its silver cover, managing to stifle the urge to slap it onto the table with a clatter.  She deliberately took her time drizzling a bit of dressing over the greens and then squeezed the lemon into her tea before she met eyes.  “So.  You said I needed to be in on this conversation?”

“That was thirty minutes ago,” Jon muttered under his breath, pushing his plate away and tossing the napkin into its center.

“Well, I’m here now, dear.”

The air crackled with tension as their gazes clashed in a silent duel.  She would almost say she saw a spark of it light the air between their faces, and she knew this was a defining moment.  Things could go ugly within a heartbeat if he chose to take that path. 

But he didn’t. 

New Jon was in the house and he seemed to pick up on the vibe that it wouldn’t do to cross her at this moment.  Had they been alone, maybe he would have chosen differently, but here in the presence of others he backed down with an agreeable nod.

“So you are.  I assume your mother has heard?”

Rachel forked a slice of grilled chicken and popped it in her mouth before answering, “Mm hmm.  Have I told you about my cousin Tanya?  The card-carrying member of your fan club with social media connections that your own PR people would be envious of?   Yeah.  She was kind enough to share the news with my sister who naturally shared it with my mother.  Lucky me.”

“There’s one in every family, babe,” Jon replied in a softer tone.

“I asked my mom not to discuss it with anybody – family or otherwise – and told her it was between us.”

“That’s great in theory, but it’s obviously become a public thing that could, hypothetically, take on a life of its own.  How we handle it will determine how soon it goes away.” 

While Paul remained most interested in his lunch, but, as the man responsible for PR, Ken picked up the ball that Jon handed him and ran with it.  He put a sheet of paper beside her salad plate and spoke directly to her, sharing what she assumed the men had already discussed. 

“We’ve secured an advanced copy of the woman from Seattle – Lynne’s – story.  After analyzing what they’re running and our prospective responses, we believe we’ve identified the most expeditious way to kill the interest in this story.”

 “And that is…?”

“You and Jon are going to need to make a couple of well-planned public appearances.  This will cement your relationship in the public eye and capture the interest of the media, leaving this woman and her tale as yesterday’s news.”  He smiled at her, clearly pleased with himself.  “The timing was actually quite fortuitous because Las Vegas offers us many excellent opportunities for the two of you to be seen out and about.  With barely any effort at all, the news of Jon’s new love will trump the tabloid rumors.”

She had barely begun skimming the story copy Ken had provided before she ran across the woman’s account of her night with Jon, and the phrase “he said he likes a woman who lets her body do the talking” jumped off the page with the intensity of every light on the Vegas strip.   Those quoted words body-slammed her with the power of a heavyweight professional wrestler, maybe not in the literal sense, but certainly the figurative one, because Jon had uttered those very same words to her just a couple of nights ago. 

The exact same words. 

She could picture the scene vividly, seeing as she was straddled across him in the chair not twenty feet away.  The thought of him in the same situation with another woman made Rachel ill.  That nausea, combined with the contrived way of handling the matter all hit her in the worst possible way and made her feel not particularly cooperative.

“So you’re pimping me out to displace the slut.”

Ken looked uncomfortable for a moment, glancing back and forth between her and Jon. 

“Rachel…” Jon besought quietly. 

“Uh…”  Ken plodded bravely onward despite her obvious displeasure.  “Tonight we’ll have press in place at Caesar’s Palace to chronicle the two of you at the Cher concert.  Tomorrow, there will be another cadre of press here at the hotel to document your departure for the airport.  Another contingency will be in place when we land in Denver.”

She wasn’t going to Denver, but that was irrelevant for the time being.  Right now, there were hotter topics to address than her travel itinerary.

“Just suppose I don’t feel like being on display, Jon?  Hmm?” she asked cattily, pushing the offensive page away as though it carried a distasteful disease.  “I don’t exactly relish the idea of putting on a phony show for photographers, and I certainly don’t want to sit in some theatre tonight so everybody in the room can have a crack at us.”

“It’s the best way to put out the fire, babe.  Ken will make sure you’re prepared for paparazzi.”

“I have to get ‘prepared’ for photo snipers?  It’s not like I haven’t dealt with it since we’ve been here.”

He shook his head firmly.  “It’s a different ballgame now.  They might say any-damn-thing to try to get a comment or revealing bit of information out of you.”

“Jesus.”

It’s the nature of the beast,” he told her simply, picking up her hand and folding it in his.  “ – and a part of my life you’re gonna have to get used to.  I’m sorry we’re in this position, but the sooner we get out there as a normal, loving couple, then the sooner it will fizzle out.”

“So you’re going to take me out in public for the sole purpose of being photographed with me gazing adoringly at you, is that the game plan?”  Rachel snatched her hand away with a scoff.  She was just plain irritable and didn’t feel the least bit compelled to disguise it.  “How romantic.”

Paul & Ken both politely pretended to be engrossed in their sandwiches as he leaned in and spoke in a low voice, “Let me explain something to you, Rachel.  This isn’t a single situation we’re dealing with, it’s two completely separate ones.  One is how this affects us on a personal level and, while I get that you’re pissed, we’ll handle that behind closed doors.”

She pursed her lips and fixed him with a look that assured him they would handle it. 

“The second part is the public side of the equation.  And let me tell you that – in public – we will be the loving, committed couple.  Period.  You can bust my balls all you need to in private, but publicly this deal is done.  That is how the game is played, and you need to be aware of your role in it.  If you can’t handle the two personas that are required…  Well, then, I need to know that right now, because it’s all part of a life with me.”

Rachel lifted her chin and met his gaze unblinkingly.  They silently exchanged a steady stare, each willing the other to back down first.

Her man knew he was in the dog house, but he wasn’t going to let the public know he was in the dog house and that was the bottom line.  As a ‘star’, he had two separate lives – the public one and the private – and they didn’t always coincide.  Nor did they have to.  He’d been around the block enough to know that and now it was Rachel’s turn to learn it.  With his little monologue, he had essentially dared her to rise to the occasion.

With a silent sigh, she relented and was the first to blink in their wordless showdown.  Jon had once again earned her admiration.  She begrudgingly acknowledged that he knew what he was doing, even if she was loathe to admit it to him. 

It was time to put her big girl panties on and take her place beside her man. 

“What time should I be ready?”

Ch 32 ~ Moving On

After finishing her final drink last night, Rachel had stiffened her spine and stalked silently away to the bedroom, and Jon let her go.  She needed her space and, to be honest, so did he.  The way she had visibly been clutching her dignity like a lifeline left Jon mentally replaying the entire scene and doing some heavy-duty soul searching. 

He was afforded a couple of uncomfortable epiphanies in the process and needed to extend apologies to Rachel.  She wasn’t going to be receptive that night, so Jon wordlessly crawled in bed next to her.   He knew she didn’t want to talk, and she sure as hell didn’t want him pawing at her, but he needed a little physical contact.

Far on the other side of the bed, Rachel was on her back with one arm flung over her head and the other – the one closest to him – just lying at her side.  He scooted to the middle of the bed and carefully positioned his hand so that the outsides of their palms were just touching.  A deep-seated peace swept through him when he felt the heat of her skin on his when she hooked their pinky fingers together.

Forgiveness.  We’ll find forgiveness in each other’s arms tonight.

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

He may not have slept well, dozing only fitfully, but  he wasn’t worried about “them”.  This wasn’t a deal breaker.  They were going to be okay, but he still needed to figure out how to make it right.  That unease had him rising well before Rachel the next morning. 

Jon was slumped down into the sofa, dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans when she emerged from the bedroom.  He had coffee in one hand, paper in the other while CNN rattled quietly in the background.  Covertly skimming his eyes over her fresh-scrubbed face and comfy yoga clothes, he attempted to gauge her mood before setting his mug aside.

“Mornin’ baby.  Want some coffee?”

“I got it, thanks,” she returned, her voice as quiet and demure as his own.  

And that was it.  Five minutes later she was still sitting in the oversized chair across from him, sipping her coffee in complete and total silence.  He endured it for another two before Jon sighed, tossing the newspaper onto the cushion next to him and picked up his coffee for another slurp.   She clearly had nothing more to add to her comments from last night, but Jon had been working on his own commentary for better than an hour. 

“Rachel…”

Her eyes lifted to meet his over the rim of her cup.  She wasn’t interested in talking, but seemed receptive to listening.  That was good. 

“I thought a lot about what you said last night and I want you to know you were right.  I didn’t ask about your relationship with James because I didn’t wanna think there was something between the two of you.” 

Unwilling to endure the emotional or physical distance between them any longer, he got up from his spot on the couch and stood before the chair, indicating with a fluttering of his fingers that he wanted to sit with her in the wide chair.  She regarded him solemnly for a split second and then held her coffee aloft to prevent it from spilling and scooted over to make room for him.   Angling onto one hip, he draped his customary arm over her lap and, while she might have given him a warning look, Rachel didn’t push him away. 

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” he apologized quietly.  “And I’m sorry that the whole fuckin’ world knows I embarrassed you.  Your… distaste got me to thinking, though and – even though it might not make a difference to you – I’d like to explain the reason for my behavior.”

“Alright.”

“Well…  The simple truth is that I was runnin’ around with women I had no real interest in because they distracted me from missing you.  Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”

She knit her fingers together around the coffee mug, intently watching the liquid swirl inside the cup, and shook her head.    

“Rachel, the only reason this tour started in Hawaii was because I thought you were going to be living there and I’d be able to reconnect with you,” he revealed.  “The minute you set foot on that plane when you left New Jersey, my mind started laying the groundwork to get me back in your world.  I was so damned excited to get there, but, when I did, you were already gone...”

Jesus he sounded pathetic, even to himself, but if that’s what it took…

“Hawaii was fuckin’ miserable and then Seattle was five times worse because it was that much closer to California – and I was still without you.  By that time I was climbin’ the fuckin’ walls, about to lose my mind and when that girl looked at me with ‘fuck me’ in her eyes… Hell, I was nothing but a miserable man looking to get lost in something – or someone – for a few hours.  The only reason I was with those women, or any of the other women – and you may as well know right now that there were more – was because I couldn’t stand knowing the girl I loved didn’t want me anywhere near her.  I was lost without you.”

It felt like Rachel had been holding her breath during Jon’s entire speech and, when he stopped talking, she slowly exhaled.  “That’s supposed to make it better?”

“Better or not, it’s the truth and, well… I was hopin’ that it might not make hangin’ around seem like a death sentence.”  He poked her lightly in the side with his thumb and smiled.  “Or at least keep you from wanting to cut off my balls and sell ‘em on eBay.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she warned him with the ghost of a smile before sighing.  “I’m not going anywhere, Jon.  I told you before that I wouldn’t let go this time, and I meant it.  I know you did, too, so whatever comes our way… we’ll deal with it together.”

“The best thing to come out of all this was knowing – deep, down honest-to-God knowing – you weren’t gonna leave me.  Marry me, Rach.”

His arm tightened around her and rough, unshaven cheeks nuzzled into her neck and he nipped her affectionately.  They’d deal with it and they’d kick its ass.  They could kick anything’s ass together.

Although right now, with the additional lighthearted relief coursing through him, he’d rather bite her ass.  Or spank it.  Or something…

Rachel pulled her neck away from his nibbling mouth and looked down her nose, square into his eyes.  “Hey.  This isn’t ‘kiss and make up’ time.  I’ve still got hip-waders on to get through the rest of this shit.  As soon as I reinforce myself with a little more coffee, I’m going for a run, then I have to face the music and call my parents before they get wind of this little escapade of yours.  At my age, that shouldn’t be a nerve-rattling prospect, but it is, so I’m not happy about having to do it.  That means…”  She finally pushed his arm away so that she could stand.  “The sexual charm you ooze from your nearly-invisible pores isn’t enough to separate me from my panties yet.  So back off, or your balls will say ‘Buy It Now’ within the hour.”

Damn how he loved a woman who knew how to take charge.  Loved her, period.  She knew his shortcomings, accepted them, dealt with them and moved on.  No hysteria and minimal drama.  She was perfect.

“You are so fuckin’ hot right now,” he murmured, sneaking a hand out to run up the outside of her thigh and around to her ass.

She wanted to be pissed at him.  God, she wanted to be pissed.  He could see it plain as day on her face, but she laughed out loud in spite of herself.  “Your perversion knows no bounds,” she snorted, pushing him away.  “I’m gonna go for a run.  See if you can stay out of trouble while I’m gone, please.”