Chapter Twenty One

Only a few hours of ill-gotten sleep later and Jon found himself wide awake staring up at the ceiling fan silently rotating through the still air from the tossed sheets of the bed. Surprisingly he seemed for the moment at least to be relatively hangover free, it seemed having a shower in the middle of the night had its benefits. Kicking the tangled sheets free from where they twisted around his legs and torso he rolled onto his side to grab his phone.

Seven am California time so Ten am Jersey time. Hmmmm

He wondered had Rachel gone running this morning. It was strange to think of her running around his neighbourhood without him, running alone would seem boring now that she’d come into his life. Swinging his legs over the side of the enormous bed so he could sit upright he stared at the phone in his hand thoughtfully chewing his bottom lip. Last night with Janelle had felt so wrong, so uncomfortable yet he’d been living this bachelor life with Richie for so long now it should have just been second nature. Sure his body may have responded as it was trained to do but his mind was a whole other different matter. And it was because of her – she was in his head on so many different levels he didn’t even know where to begin to process all the feelings he had for her or may not have whatever the case may be. He needed to talk to her, check she was okay. Hell if truth be known it was more for his own benefit, maybe if he talked to her he might be able to get her out of his damn head and maybe, just maybe actually get some work done while he was here.

07.06 am Hey just wanted to check you’re doing okay – give me a call when you get this. Jon

He stared at the phone for a few minutes after the message went on its way, willing it to vibrate with her reply. The phone remained silent, the minutes stubbornly ticking by with no response. Frustrated he finally tossed it on the bed behind him and ran his fingers over the grizzly stubble that was beginning to line his jaw; maybe another shower would get his mind under control.

A couple of hours later Jon was at the piano working out a melody for the song they had been working on the day before, his brows furrowed in concentration when a freshly showered and smug looking Richie wandered in.

“Hey my brother, how are YOU this fine morning?”

Jon lifted his eyes from the sheet he had been scribbling on to eye his friend warily.

“Not as good as you it seems. Morgan was in top form last night then huh?”

Richie grinned as he sauntered over to the piano to glance at the notes Jon had been jotting down.

“She sure was, that girl has ……how do I put it…….special talents if you get my drift?”

“Hmmph……..I heard your drift last night – ALL night.”

Richie chortled at Jon’s scowl and clapped him on the back. “You mean to tell me Janelle bailed on you?”

Jon sighed and flipped his pencil down onto the pad in front of him. Rachel still hadn’t replied and it was bugging the crap out of him, he was about two seconds away from firing the goddamn phone out the window before it burned a hole in his pocket.

“Nah, she just wasn’t doing it for me last night, figured my night would be better spent getting some sleep so we could actually get some WORK done today.”

Arms folded he glowered up Richie, his brows arched in annoyance at the late hour.

“You remember that little thing we do? You know the whole write a hit record, bust our asses on a worldwide tour and then roll around in the dollars thing?”

Richie grinned at the sarcastic scowl on his friend’s face and shook his head chuckling.

“Take it easy Boss, we’ve got all the time in the world! Coffee?”

Without waiting for an answer Richie turned and cheerfully made his way to the kitchen, his jaunty whistle bouncing off the walls and grating on Jon’s nerves even more. Sambora the morning after he got laid was a royal pain in the ass. Still frowning in annoyance Jon dug his phone out of his pocket and swore when the screen came to life showing no new messages.

Where the hell is she?

His fingers hovered over the screen, the phone taunting him to give in to the temptation to send her another message or better yet just call her. Maybe the text hadn’t delivered, or maybe she hadn’t checked her phone in a while? Yeah that was it, she was probably busy dealing with more builder shit with the house………..or maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe she’s still pissed at me………FUCK!!

Growling in exasperation Jon slammed the phone onto the polished surface of the piano, wincing when it skittered out of his hand and bounced off the hardwood floor with a loud crack. Great! Just fucking GREAT! Sliding to his knees he scrabbled on the floor for the injured phone, his heart sinking when he took in the slight crack just edging onto the top corner of the dark screen. He sucked in a breath when he pressed the button that should bring it to life and waited for what seemed an eternity before the screen flickered to life. He had to blink twice before his mind registered the small envelope flashing in the bottom corner – Holy shit! Fingers flying across the keypad he blew out a long sigh of relief when Rachel’s reply came into view.

11.56 Hi, I’m doing fine – in the city for meetings all day. Hope your trip is going well. Rachel

Well at least she wasn’t ignoring him, that was something. Fumbling in haste he tapped out a quick reply and shot it back to her.

11.59 Can I call you later?

Still poised on the floor Jon was unaware of Richie’s dark frame hovering at the door watching him in amusement. Leaning back on his hunkers he ran a hand through his tousled hair while he waited expectantly for Rachel’s response. A snigger from the hallway jerked his attention up and he rolled his eyes at his friend’s smirk.

“So Janelle couldn’t tempt you to your knees but your phone can? Too much work and no play makes Jonny a ……….” Richie trailed off as he crossed the room laughing at Jon’s position on the floor beside the piano to set two mugs of fresh coffee on the table. “So who is she?”

“Fuck you Rich!” Grumbling good naturedly Jon got to his feet slowly, wincing at the dent in his knees from the hard floor. Phone still clutched in his hand he took a small sip of coffee eyeing Richie speculatively over the rim of the mug. “Why does everything have to be about a woman with you?”

“Because I’m usually right and I know there’s a better reason for your piss poor performance last night other than jet lag so c’mon – tell Uncle Richie all!”

Grinning knowingly Richie propped himself up on the low piano bench Jon had just vacated and waited for him to kill his curiosity. He’d been best friends with the guy for the better part of his life and he knew him like the back of his hand, he’d tell him eventually but sooner would be better.

Before Jon could reply the flashing of his phone distracted him and a victorious grin stole across his features as he read Rachel’s message.

12.06 I’d like that. Have a good day – R

Touchdown!! Finally satisfied he slipped the phone which apart from the crack seemed none the worst for his temper tantrum back in his pocket and took another slug of coffee.

“How’s about instead of worrying about ME you pick up that guitar over there and work your magic on this little song I got going on here and maybe THEN I’ll tell you something.”

Richie rolled his eyes and raised his hands in mock disgust. “Fine, fine be a stubborn sonofabitch then. Although…….”

Lifting the pad to read over the lyrics Jon had scribbled down, his eyes lit up with a wry grin that reached his cheeks. “Looks like I can figure it all out by what you’ve got down here anyway………’I wish that I could be your superman’ huh?”

He shook his head laughing as he reached across for his well-worn acoustic guitar with an over dramatized exclamation, “Oh brother!”

Chapter Twenty

“So what time are the ladies showing up?”

Half-heartedly Jon speared a tempura prawn with his fork and pushed it around the square plate, his appetite waning rapidly. It was possibly a touch of jet lag that was making him so uninterested in the night’s proceedings but it was more like the night before that had been spent sitting up with Rachel was making his head spin with tiredness.

Richie snorted and cocked an eyebrow at his friend, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes.

“I didn’t arrange for any ladies to show up….” Patting his mouth clean with a napkin he grinned at Jon and checked his watch. “Our usual companions should be waiting downstairs for us, so if you’re done let’s get our asses down there.”

Jon drained his wine glass resignedly and nodded at the waiter for the check. Richie hadn’t had the easiest of times lately and he hadn’t the heart to tell him he wasn’t really in the mood for their usual shenanigans. Fuck it they weren’t kids anymore but somebody seemed to have forgotten to let Richie in on that little secret.

The chic bar in the basement of the restaurant was a hive of activity, the sounds of chatter and glasses chinking mingling with the soft dulcet music playing in the background. Richie led the way through the throng, nodding and smiling until they reached the red barrier that cordoned off the private section. The burly concierge smiled in greeting and lifted the rope to allow them access, Richie dropping a twenty into his hand in thanks.

The smaller room was quiet, only a few of the intimate booths occupied by guests murmuring to one another over their drinks. Hands in his pockets Jon scanned the room, unable to help the smirk that lit up his eyes when he spotted a familiar brunette laughing in a corner with her companion.

“Hey Janelle, long time sugar….”

“Jonny baby, it’s been too long!”

The tanned beauty pouted her perfectly made up lips at him as she uncrossed her long legs, the tops of her smooth thighs barely concealed by a tight red satin dress and scooted lithely across the seat to make room for him.

“How ya doin Morgan? Good to see you.”

Jon grinned at the fiery red haired woman sitting across from Janelle, her white teeth flashing a megawatt smile back at him before she wrapped her arms around Richie’s neck, squealing in delight when he slid her onto his lap.

“I’ve missed you………” 

Janelle purred into Jon’s ear, her scarlet tipped fingers sliding between his legs under the table and rasping their way to his crotch. Despite his earlier apprehension, the friction of her nails scraping over the denim of his jeans made his cock twitch, the desire glittering in her heavily lined eyes making its presence known from her touch.

Jon sucked in a breath, his arm reaching around to let his fingers brush the generous swell of her bust that threatened to burst from the tight strappings of the dress. These were high class girls, discretion was never an issue and they didn’t come cheap but they were worth it.

Richie in the midst of lavishing attention on his favourite red head caught his best friend’s eye and raised his brows in expectation. When Jon nodded and returned the smirk he chuckled and returned his concentration to the jiggling Morgan on his lap.

“Let’s have some fun people!”

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

A hazy mist swam in front of Jon’s eyes as he struggled to focus on the tousled waves of dark hair bobbing up and down in his lap. Somehow, through the course of several bottles of the finest wine LA had to offer the party had ended up back in Richie’s house. He was vaguely aware of his shirt hanging open, his stomach damp from the sticky residue of champagne that Janelle was currently licking off his navel. Groaning he let his head fall back against the headrest of the sofa, Richie’s living room only dimly lit by small table lamps casting shadows that merged into the darkness.

Janelle’s lips made a loud smacking sound as she sat up between his knees, her abundant curls of hair bouncing around her face. With a small laugh she locked eyes with him and began to unfold his belt, her fingernails lightly scratching the delicate skin of his abdomen.

“You wanna play Jonny?”

A grunt was all he could muster as Jon watched her pull his jeans and briefs off his hips, his ever dutiful manhood standing to attention once she released it from their confines.

“Oooh baby……it’s been so long since I wrapped my lips around you…….”

Her sultry voice dripped like honey over his brain, a gasp of pleasure escaping his throat when she began to stroke his cock with her long fingers.

“You want me to suck your dick Jonny, just the way you like it?”

Jon merely nodded and closed his eyes as he felt Janelle’s slick tongue snake its way down his shaft, her breath hot against his pulsing skin, the wet heat spreading from her mouth down to his balls.

“Mnnnn, you’re so hard for me Jonny………..I’m gonna suck you dry baby……”

The muffled words normally sent him wild with desire, he’d fucked this chick more times than he cared to remember but tonight they washed over him, her crassness grating against his senses. 

Shutting out the brunette’s mews of delight his mind drifted back to the woman who’d arrested his thoughts for much of the day. Images of Rachel laughing at his cooking in the kitchen, the smouldering fire that had set her eyes alight when he’d finally claimed her against that wall – God she was beautiful.

Janelle’s enthusiasm grew in intensity as did the pulsing at the base of his shaft. His fingers curled through the twists of her dark hair while her lips and tongue worked him through an ill satisfying climax. A deep throated groan rumbled from his heaving chest as he felt her swallow every last drop from him, her long fingers clamped tightly around his pulsing cock.

“Mmmmn you taste so good Jonny, just like always…….”

The girl sat back on her impossibly high heels, her fingertips delicately wiping the smeared lipstick at the corners of her mouth.

“You want to take this upstairs so we can play some more?”

Slowly regaining his senses Jon shook his head, for some reason unfathomable to his drunken mind he felt dirty and sordid, he needed to get this chick out of here.

“I think that’s enough fun for one night baby, I’ll call a car to take you home…..”

Ignoring her look of disbelief, he shifted in the chair to pull his jeans back over his hips and fumbled to flick on another lamp sitting on an ornate table beside him.

“But baby we only just got started……..c’mon let me show you a good time…..”

Janelle started to protest, her hands flying to her back to pull down the zipper on the dress that barely contained her billowing breasts.

“Don’t bother sweetheart, I’m an old man and I need my sleep.”

When she reached for him, Jon waved her away tiredly and got to his feet a little unsteadily, his fingers reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. Right now he’d have paid a small fortune to get her the hell out of here, the damn car couldn’t come quick enough.

A short phone call later and he was handing Janelle her coat whilst ushering her to the front door.

“You’re sure I can’t tempt you Jonny? I hate to think of you on your own in that big bouncy bed up there………”

Her dark eyes swirled with a mixture of hopefulness and anticipation, a long leg perched on top of five inch stilettos snaking its way around Jon’s left calf to hook his body against hers. Jon paused before he chased away any lingering doubts that may have been racing through his veins and firmly pulled their bodies apart to a safe distance.

“Not tonight sugar……. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“Richie’s not worried…..” Janelle looked to the ceiling above their heads where a faint thumping was leaking from the room up above before she eyed Jon speculatively. 

“Morgan and him are having a real good time from the sounds of it…….”

A ripple of annoyance snapped through Jon as he stood in front of her, his shirt still hanging open from where she had licked him clean. The girl had a persuasive talent, that was for sure. A flash of car lights at the bottom of Richie’s driveway signalled the arrival of Janelle’s taxi home and Jon held the door open for her before he could change his mind.

“Good night Janelle, thanks.”

Taking one final regretful look at him, Janelle leaned forward to brush his cheek with a kiss, her teeth taking a quick cheeky nibble at his ear lobe before she stepped out onto the porch.

“Call me Jonny, anytime.”

“I will babe…….I will.”

Once the door closed behind him with a firm click, Jon leant against it and breathed out a long sigh of relief. Or was it of frustration? He couldn’t tell the difference anymore and why the hell did he feel so damn guilty? Muttering to himself he flicked off the lights downstairs and trudged wearily up to the guest room, rolling his eyes as he passed Richie’s bedroom door. There was no sign of the activity in there slowing down and judging from history there wouldn’t be a change in pace in there for quite some time yet. The Moose was known to go all night long.

He was grateful for the darkness that greeted him in the bedroom, a hangover was only hours away judging from the dull ache beginning at the base of his skull. Shucking his clothes in a heap on the floor of the adjoining en-suite Jon stepped under a lukewarm shower, the stickiness of the champagne and the aftermath of Janelle’s handiwork sliding off his skin and down the plughole. What he couldn't wash away was the heavy ball of guilt that had settled in the pit of his stomach, the same one he’d had to deal with when he was still married to Dorothea only he was far from married now.

So what the hell’s the problem Jon??

Leaning his head back against the slick tiles he let the warm water cascade over him, his eyes closed against the torrent. He knew what the problem was and he knew where it was – he just didn’t know how to solve it.

Chapter Nineteen

Wispy clouds flew past the window as Jon stared down at the distant New York skyline from the thick glass window of the jet, the steady drone of the engines easing down from the take-off thrust as the aircraft began to level out. When the sleek wing tips broke above the thick bank of high altitude clouds he returned his attention to the newspaper spread out on the table before him. There was yet another large headline about the latest decline in the economy and the ever increasing rate of unemployment, it made for depressing reading. Sighing he skimmed over the article, his pulse jumping a little when he came to a paragraph detailing recent high profile real estate foreclosures. Rachel immediately jumped into his thoughts only having left her just hours previously. The printed words on the paper merged into one as he gazed past them to run his mind back over the previous evening. The thunderstorm had lasted hours, a spectacular display of nature unleashing its power that they had watched curled up on the sofa together. She had bared her soul to him last night and while his heart ached for what she had endured, his mind was uneasy. There was something about the California woman that itched under his skin, something that had made him reluctant to leave her, almost as if he was protective of her.

“Would you like some fresh coffee Jon?”

The pretty flight attendant politely interrupted his thoughts and Jon nodded gratefully at her as he scrubbed his tired eyes with his hands. Silently he watched her pour the steaming liquid into his cup and shaking his head at the creamer she offered let himself drift back into the knowledge he now possessed about his ……….well his what was the question really. He no longer just thought of Rachel as his new neighbour obviously, she was hardly in that league anymore but where exactly she fitted into his list of contacts he just wasn’t quite sure. The bright expanse of blue sky that stretched infinitely into the horizon offered no clues to ease his troubled mind especially when thoughts of his own kids merged with the horrific memories Rachel had of hers.

Christ………..

It just didn’t bear thinking about – how was anybody ever supposed to get over something like that? She’d talked most of the night, sometimes he had felt she wasn’t even talking to him rather just into the static air around them. He’d hated leaving her, even though the storm had long since passed and the sun had just been starting to rise off the Eastern fringe of the river but it was time to go to work.

August had flown by and his fingers were itching to create something new so he was heading over to Richie in California for a few days – something he’d neglected to tell Rachel. He wasn’t sure why but at the last minute he’d stopped himself divulging the details of where he was going instead leaving her with the short explanation that he had to go away for a couple days. In fact she hadn’t even seemed to care, just wished him well when he’d finally stood up to leave.

Jon didn’t blame her for distancing herself, he’d called her common for Christ’s sake, she was hardly going to leap into his arms and forgive him in one night. He’d hated himself leaving her that morning…actually the more he thought about it he hated to be away from her. Which was crazy but maybe it was just sympathy, nothing more than that.

That’s all it is, right?  Just sympathy….. or should that be empathy. 

Sure Jon, that’s all it is.

Lifting his coffee cup to his lips, he winced as the hot liquid scorched his tongue. This woman was making him crazy - a few days with Richie and he’d be back to normal, he was certain of it. 

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

Bright sunshine bounced off the polished chrome of a black Hummer that was parked in the basking heat outside Jon’s lead guitarist’s Calabasas home. Stifling a yawn as his car rolled to a stop under the shade of a pair of towering palm trees that guarded the front porch, Jon murmured a thanks to the driver and stepped out stiffly, his limbs sore and unyielding from the flight.

“Hey there my brother! Welcome!”

Richie greeted him enthusiastically, a wide smile lighting up his face as he strode through the front door and bounded down the steps to greet his friend.

“Hey Rich, good to see you man.”

The two men embraced, shoulders tight against one another. Richie clapped Jon on the back and took a step away, chuckling when he took in the tired lines on Jon’s face.

“You look like shit Jonny, holidays bored you that much huh?”

Jon scowled as he stooped to pick up his holdall that the driver had deposited at his feet before Richie claimed it for him, swooping it up in his long arms.

“Nah, just need to catch up some sleep, I’ve had a crazy few days.”

“Ohoh! Do tell brother………anything that’s kept you sleep deprived must have a story!”

Jon rolled his eyes and shook his head at Richie’s mischievous grin.

“No story Rich, I’m just getting too old for this shit s’all. Come on, I need a beer.”

Richie shot him a quizzical look, a bemused smile twitching at his lips but chose not to press him further. He knew whatever was keeping his friend up late at night was something he’d tell him in his own good time. Shifting Jon’s bag to his other hand he ushered the way up the steps to the house.

“Well I hope you’re not too tired for the plans I have for tonight. A little dinner out and a few drinks with our favourite California girls might perk you up.” Smirking he paused as Jon stepped through the front door into the marbled hallway, “Just the thing to get those ‘creative juices’ flowing if you get my drift……”

Jon chuckled despite his tiredness. He knew exactly what juices Richie was referring to and they weren’t the record making ones. Richie was incredibly good at finding ……interesting…… partners for their night’s entertainment and if previous encounters were anything to go by, tonight would be no exception. He made a mental note to remind himself to ensure his stock of condoms were in order, last thing he needed was a goddamn infestation crawling around in his nether regions or worse. These women may be hazardous to his health but they knew how to show a guy a good time and maybe Richie was right – a night of debauchery with his favourite hook up would shake off whatever it was that was bugging him and he’d be back to normal. Suitably cheered he followed Richie through to the kitchen, gratefully accepting the cold beer he was proffering.

“Sounds like a plan Rich, but let’s get some work done before we delve into the underworld huh? We need to get our shit back together.”

Richie grinned and chinked their bottles together.

“Thought you’d never ask! C’mon I’ve been doing some stuff, let me show you.”

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

The afternoon passed in a blur of the two men tossing ideas back and forth, lyrics and chords scribbled on sheets of paper soon littering the floor around them. Mentally exhausted Jon stretched out on a sofa, his guitar lying across his chest with his fingers idly strumming the strings. Images of Rachel crept back into his mind for the first time since he had sat down to write with Richie. That first day he’d caught sight of her struggling with those ridiculously oversized luggage cases, a sweaty dampness just beginning to rise up her neck – the memory made him grin. Fast forward to the flustered woman he’d encountered on their next meeting and how she’d instantly turned to stone when he’d called her ‘baby’ – he understood her annoyance better now given the hand she’d been dealt in life.

His fingers subconsciously started picking out a melody as more memories flooded his brain. The brief kiss they’d shared that evening on the dock, the feeling of her wiggling that ass on his cock as she slithered away from him, her shyness banished by her confidence when she talked business, fluently and as efficiently as any top class CEO he’d ever dealt with.

There’s something about you……..

Words began forming in his head, Rachel’s face floating in a mesmerising cloud through his half-closed eyes. The humour that had danced in her eyes when she’d asked did he negotiate all business deals in such a manner he had with her……….that night of mind blowing passion when she’d finally succumbed to his charms…….had it really only been one night? It seemed like a lifetime ago………the hurt and anger he had caused that morning – That was still very fresh………she hadn’t backed down….she hadn’t let him in until not even twenty fours ago on the sofa when silence had spoken volumes.

I wanna rescue……….

I don’t even know you…..

With a frown of realisation Jon jerked himself upright, his guitar nestled close to his body as he focused on repeating the notes along with the jumble of words he’d been murmuring. Richie looked across from where he had been bent over tightening a set of strings, a small smile spreading across his face as he listened to Jon softly sing.

“There’s something about you………I wanna rescue……..I don’t even know you so what does that mean?..........Maybe I’m cynical……..painfully logical……….you’re tragic and beautiful……..”

Nodding with approval, he picked up alongside him, the strains of the melody floating soulfully across the room.

This was it – the magic was back.

An Apology.......

Life as I know it changed here overnight last week and unfortunately Love For Sale has had to bear the brunt of my crazy time shuffling. Let me assure you all this story has NOT gone on hiatus - the next chapter is under way just finding the time to get it done is practically impossible at the moment. Your patience is truly appreciated and both Audra and myself are very grateful to you all for following our little story!

Check back soon - Chapter Nineteen is not that far away - promise!

Emerald xxx

Chapter Eighteen

“Why Jon?”

Rachel couldn’t understand his motives; they’d known each for practically five minutes. She was a nobody, he was a rock star with a string of beautiful women fawning over him on any given day – she presumed she just counted as another notch on his well-worn belt. She turned back to face Jon across the length of the kitchen where he still stood at the island watching her intently.

“Sounds like he was a good guy.”

He shrugged making no attempt to close the distance between them, his right hand casually cradling his empty glass and his left shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

“The best.”

Rachel confirmed his presumption with a suspicious nod, her lips forming a defiant line.

“Jon if you need to ease your conscience then FINE! I forgive you or whatever the hell else you want to hear, I’m over it.”

Her words stung the air, her arms exasperatedly questioning his interrogation.

“It’s not as if we were ever going anywhere so let’s just put this behind us and move on with our respective lives.”

Jon shook his head sadly, his voice lacking its normal confidence;

“I was hoping we could just put this behind us………”

“What do you want from me Jon? What can I give you that you can’t get elsewhere?”

Despite the alcohol warming the blood racing around his veins, Jon could feel his frustration mounting. He couldn’t even tell himself why he was here, why he was so intent on figuring this out.

“Normality………..hell I don’t know Rachel! I didn’t plan on this ‘thing’ happening!”

Rachel strode toward him, her arms gesticulating wildly before she grabbed her glass off the counter once more, filling it in one fluid movement from the near empty bottle.

“What is this ‘thing’ exactly? Because if today’s anything to go by I’d say we’re better off not finding out! Besides……”

Taking a swallow of tequila she paused. “……this is not what I moved over here for……”

“Why are you here?” Jon had it blurted out before he could stop himself, frozen he held his breath preparing for the mental walls she was surely about to build back up around herself.

She moved to the open door and stared out at the darkening sky, the ominous black clouds tumbling ever nearer from across the horizon. Her voice broke down, the earlier resentment and anger seeming to float away on the hot, still air.

“A fresh start, that’s all I wanted – all I needed.”

Jon moved to stand behind her, his heart ached to touch her, to comfort her in some way but his brain screamed NO – not yet.

“Tell me about him.”

The outline of her face softened in the dusky light, her head leaning casually against the door frame as Jon watched her travel to another time. She was silent for so long he was about to throw the towel in and get the hell out of there when she began to speak, her voice soft and moist.

“He was all I could have ever dreamt of – tall, handsome as the devil, drove a dangerously cool black car that always had ZZ Top pumping too loud from the speakers – exactly the kinda guy my father warned me about – but he made my world complete, just like when you finally get the last piece of the puzzle to fit – we just clicked.”

“Love at first sight huh?”

"I wouldn't have called it 'love' necessarily. I felt a little like lightening had struck me...the way he looked at me almost scared me.  I found out after we married that he had commented to his friends that first day we met at the mall ‘There's a little girl I'd like to corrupt’.”

A small laugh made her head shake slightly as she smirked into the emptiness of the garden.

 “….so his intentions were hardly honourable. As luck would have it, one of his friends was the brother of one of my friends and so I guess you could say I was lured in by a false sense of security." 

Jon relaxed a little as he watched the tension roll off her shoulders, he could have melted into the shadows and she wouldn’t have noticed as she continued to wind her way through the maze of memories.

"I was pretty naive...didn't have enough sense to realise he didn't have the purest of intentions. He offered to take me for a ride and I couldn't get in fast enough. We went back to a mutual friend’s house with everybody else and listened to music as kids do. A bunch of his friends were going to the beach the next day and he asked me to go with him. He was the perfect bad boy and I was smitten."

The shaky quiver was back in her voice as she dropped her head with a soft sigh.

“We got married on that same beach two years later.”

“He was pretty awesome then……” Jon made the comment awkwardly, he felt as if he had intruded on memories that weren’t meant for him.

“He was my rock……….my very own real life rock star.”

Jon bit his lip at her innuendo but resisted the urge to interrupt – she was finally talking. A low rumble of thunder barrelled from the bank of angry clouds overhead, a scattering of birds noisily taking flight from a nearby tree making them both jump.

Rachel blinked rapidly in an effort to rid her mind of the hazy fog of remembrance, a panicked and embarrassed blush rising in her pale cheeks.

“I don’t do this Jon……”

Unable to deter himself any longer Jon lifted his hands to lightly rub either side of her shoulders. She tensed under his touch, her back stiff and unyielding but she made no effort to push him away.

“You don’t do what?”

He leaned in close, her faint perfume wafting under his nose, sweet and innocent like fresh jasmine picked from the garden. She shook her head miserably, a dull ache searing across her forehead; the heavy air and tequila was finally making an impact.

“I don’t talk about this, I can’t talk about this.”

Another rumble of thunder, louder and closer this time rolled through the air prompting Jon to gently steer her away from the open door towards the soft leather sofa that was nestled against the wall in front of the empty wood burning stove. She allowed herself to be guided by him, a heavy blanket of exhaustion was rapidly wrapping itself around her body – she had no energy left to argue. As she curled up on the marshmallow like cushions, a glass of water materialised at her left hand.

“I think we’ve both had enough tequila for today – try this instead.”

Taking the glass from him, she gazed up at his face and smiled in silent gratitude. The ice cold water was a welcome change from the bitterness of the earlier alcohol and she drained half the glass before handing it back to him.

“Better?” He raised his brows, those blue eyes that she was becoming so familiar with smiling down at her. This was the guy she’d lost earlier, the one who’d been the first man to captivate her since – well just since.

“I’m sorry Jon, today was as much my fault……”

“Stop!” Interrupting Jon set the glass down on a nearby bookcase and perched himself on the sofa beside her. He fixed her with such a fierce look she almost winced.

“I’m the one that came over here to apologise to you, believe me you have nothing to be sorry for baby. I was a shit today, a complete and total shit and if I could kick my own ass I would.” He grasped one of her hands and squeezed it softly, “I just panicked a bit…….”

“It’s okay………I should have explained earlier………I just…….”

A lone tear slid down her cheek and before she could move Jon had softly brushed it away with his thumb. When she dipped her head into his touch he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close until she was snug against his chest. Rocking her gently he softly whispered in her ear.

“Tell me now then… it’s alright... what happened baby?”

Enveloped by his strong arms and firm chest Rachel let him support her weight, the steady beating of his heart magnified against her ear through the thin fabric of his shirt. Lulled by the soothing rocking she closed her eyes and let herself drift back to that dreadful day, the scenes flashing through her mind as vividly as if it had been yesterday.

“We were going skiing but I woke up with the flu and we didn’t want to disappoint the kids so Nick said he’d take them by himself.”

Jon’s heart stilled for a moment, his breath hanging on her every word.

So she does have kids.

Rachel’s low voice continued, Jon’s change in tension level going unheeded.

“They had a great day, spent hours up on the slopes while I stayed home and caught up on some sleep………….Nick called me before they left to let me know what time they’d be home at……..that was the last time I ever spoke to him………..” 

A hard lump formed in her throat as she fought to control her breathing.

“There was bad ice on the way back down from the mountain and the car spun out…………Nick could have driven his way out of it but there was a big rig coming up…………the sheriff said there would have been nothing he could have done to avoid it…………..”

Jon screwed his eyes shut in disbelief as he listened to her heart breaking story, it sounded like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster. He read about accidents like this in the papers all the time but he’d never actually stopped to think about them.

“I could have been with them, I could have seen the ice but I was at home………..” 

She choked on her words, tears freefalling from her eyelids.

Jon sat up sharply, his gentle rocking stopped by the horror unfolding in his brain. He looked down in shock at the tousled blonde waves of hair that were burrowed against his chest. She’d said the kids were with her husband………when she spoke again her words tore straight through his heart and shattered it in a million pieces.

“That was the day I lost my whole family, the day I lost everything.”

The thunder crashing overhead that reverberated through the whole house went unnoticed as Jon held her tight in his arms, his senses reeling from what she had just told him. Images of his own kids, from Stephanie with her golden hair and twinkling teenage eyes right down to his youngest son Romeo flooded his brain. They were his flesh and blood, the very reason he existed and he couldn’t contemplate a life without them.

“Jesus Rachel…….” He struggled to find words to express the shock, never in a million years had he envisioned anyone let alone someone he knew having to deal with something like this.

“That’s what everyone says.” Her quiet voice broke through the stillness in the room. “It’s what I would say if it were someone else……..”

Sitting up she eased herself from his arms, her hands automatically swiping the accumulation of tears from her eyes, strands of her tousled hair falling from the ponytail tied loosely on top of her head. With a deep sigh she looked over at Jon, the hollows of her eyes dark and red rimmed.

“This is why I don’t talk about this………there’s no point.”

Jon stared at her in disbelief, his mind whirling with a mixture of sympathy and confusion. How could she not talk about it?

“How long ago was this?” His voice was hoarse, his mouth suddenly dry and lined with cotton as he reached for the water he’d brought over for Rachel. 

“Almost two and a half years ago, some days it seems like a lifetime ago, other days it feels like yesterday.”

He shook his head slowly, willing his brain to absorb the details. It was no wonder she’d crossed the country but was that a solution? Somehow he doubted it. Tipping his head back he drank down the last of the water, washing away the cloudy dust that seemed to be coating all his words. Rachel sat beside him tiredly staring at the panelled wall behind the stove that sat across the floor in front of them, her hands clasped between her knees.

“You know what so many people said to me at the time? Only the good die young.” She half laughed at herself before she looked sideways at him. “To this day they have NO idea how angry that made me – how angry it STILL makes me.”

Jon watched as a fire reignited in her eyes, a grim determination stretching the features of her pale face. Remaining silent he let her continue, this woman had been wounded more than bone deep in ways he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“They also said time is a great healer – have you ever noticed that ALL the people who are so ready and willing to give advice are only able to do so from afar?” She bitterly spat the words out, a deep blush rising up her neck before she quietened down and took a deep breath, regretfully twisting her fingers together.

“Sorry…..it’s been a long time since I talked to anyone about any of this.”

A brilliant flash of lightning cracked through the darkness outside, the accompanying crash of thunder just seconds later shattering the heavy silence. Jon hesitated for a moment before he gently prised her hands apart and turned her to face him, the soft leather of the sofa yielding beneath them.

“Rachel I’m not gonna tell you how sorry I am, or how to fix it because truthfully? I wouldn’t know where to start. I’ve been pretty lucky in life so far in that I haven’t had to go through a tragedy like yours but babe………..you gotta start talking.”

Soft blue eyes held her gaze steady, his hands softly caressing her wrists soothing and reassuring while he spoke. Another flash of electricity streaking across the sky lit up the room, illuminating her tear streaked face.

“I’m tired of being a widow Jon, I miss my family but more than anything I’m tired of being alone.”

Her lower lip trembled and the words tumbled from her lips as she finally admitted it more to herself than anybody.

“I want my life back.”

Chapter Seventeen

With hands that trembled more than he’d like to admit, Jon sloshed a generous amount of his favourite scotch whisky into a heavy crystal glass. Without a moment’s hesitation he set the bottle down and knocked back the contents of the glass in one gulp. The fiery liquid burned a trail to his stomach, its warmth spreading through his troubled veins like a numbing anaesthesia. Suppressing a short cough from the kick of the drink, he poured himself a refill and sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk.  He was rattled, his gut still clenched when he replayed the conversation – if it could be called that – with Rachel just minutes earlier.

Had he really called her common? Jesus!

As usual he hadn’t thought things through and had barged headfirst into a goddamn train wreck. Taking another sip from his drink he leaned back in the comfortable chair and mulled things over. So as a result of being a jackass he now knew she was a widow, why the hell hadn’t he thought of that? 

Growling in frustration he lifted the glass to his lips once more. His heart rate was slowly returning to a normal pace but the scotch was helping to ease the flips of his stomach every time the image of her distraught face floated back into focus. She said she’d been married twenty years – his marriage to Dorothea had lasted just over seventeen years before they’d finally called it a day. The hand that wasn’t cradling the scotch idly scratched at the light grizzle forming on his jaw, no matter what had gone on in the past his world would shatter if anything ever happened to the woman who used to be his wife. He frowned when he thought back to Rachel’s description of her deceased husband, she’d said something about him being a father – so she has kids? Maybe they were his kids, from a previous marriage maybe – surely if they were Rachel’s they’d be here with her.

There you go again wise ass – jumping to conclusions just like she said – Fuck!

A short knock at the door jolted him from his musings, the whisky sloshing in the glass as he swivelled abruptly in the chair to face the doorway. Alice stood there, methodically drying her hands on a towel, a disapproving look on her face when she spotted the alcohol in his hand.

“I’m finishing up – you want me to fix you some dinner before I go?”

Jon shook his head tiredly, “No thanks, I’m good – you head home.”

Alice nodded and turned to go before pausing in the doorway to look back at him.

“You know that won’t solve anything right?” She looked pointedly at his drink before silently disappearing down the hallway.

Jon looked ruefully at the amber liquid that swirled comfortingly at the base of the heavy glass. She was right – as usual. However while it may not solve anything it sure as hell was gonna make his next job easier. Leaning back his head into the soft leather upholstery he threw the remainder of the measure down his throat, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as the slow burn once again started its descent. He needed to go make things right.

Dark clouds gathered at the fringe of the sky’s horizon partly blocking the sun’s grand finale to what had been another scorcher of a day as Jon made his way up Rachel’s driveway. The grounds looked like a construction site, bags of cement and sand stacked at the far edge of the house and rows of potted plants and shrubs silently waiting in the shadows to be planted. Stopping at the porch, Jon momentarily weighed up his options – if he rang the doorbell it was highly unlikely she was going to answer and even if she did, the chances of her slamming the door in his face were running at an all-time high. Stealth was his best plan – he needed time to at least get a few words in before she went kamikaze on his ass. Which judging from their last encounter was quite likely, her eyes had flashed with all the ferocity of a tiger when he’d demanded to know where the husband was – you stupid fuck Jon!

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he made his way to the rear of the house in the dusky light, relieved to see a small light spilling out onto the deck from the open kitchen doors. The air was heavy and humid, even the crickets seemed smothered by the low lying heat of the day. Sidling close to the door he caught sight of Rachel faced away from him at the fridge. The familiar clink of ice cubes and corresponding gurgle from the built in ice maker told him he wasn’t the only one that had been hitting the liquor tonight. He followed her movements across the kitchen with his eyes to where she slid onto a stool at the marbled island and poured an indiscrete amount of a pale liquid from a yellow labelled glass bottle. When she lifted the glass to her lips Jon’s eyes widened in surprise at the healthy swallow that consumed most of its contents. Rachel still facing away from him coughed sharply, the liquor obviously making an impact before she tilted the bottle back towards the glass once more.

Softly clearing his throat, Jon stepped lightly into the softly lit kitchen, its décor much improved since the last time he had visited. Bright green leaves of foliage sprouted from plants placed delicately amongst the kitchen shelves and cupboards, the vivid colour in stark contrast to the dark oak furnishings that themed the room. Ornate picture frames hung majestically from the stone roughened walls, a barometer and other ornaments adding to the rustic feel.

Rachel’s shoulders stiffened briefly at the sound he made to indicate his presence but she made no effort to turn around. Instead she concentrated on downing another half measure from what Jon could see to be a rapidly emptying bottle.

“Tequila huh?”

Walking over, Jon picked up the bottle of Cazadores and pretended to examine the label, the palms of his hands sweating slightly as he awaited her reaction. To his surprise there was no outburst from the woman who sat slumped before him, her hair pulled into a loose pony tail making the dark shadows tinging the underside of her eyes all the more noticeable. Instead she merely blew out a long breath, her eyes tiredly looking through the highball that was administering her poison.

“Go home Jon…..”

Her words were barely more than a whisper but the quiet desperation within them leaked into Jon’s heart. He had caused this. Silently he twisted the cap off the bottle and poured another albeit slightly smaller shot into her empty glass.

“This is pretty hard core stuff for a Tuesday night…..” He let his words hang lightly in the air, her quietness unnerving him.

“It’s been a pretty hard core day.”

Her words hit home as he regretfully dipped his head in silent acknowledgement. Sensing he needed to steer this conversation in another direction fast he chose not to reply, instead moving to the row of glass fronted cabinets that lined one wall of the large kitchen. The array of sparkling glasses stacked within clinked noisily in the silent room when he lifted one down and returned to the centre island. 

Rachel made no effort to stop him when he poured himself a shot and after a moment’s pause to grimace at the sharp odour of the tequila, threw it down his neck, his nostrils flaring as the alcohol seared its way to the pit of his stomach. The heat that raced through Jon’s body made his eyes water, the earlier scotch that he had drunk reacting strongly to the arrival of its alcoholic cousin. Nose twitching, he glanced at Rachel as he poured himself another shot of the evil drink. She remained still and silent, her eyes never faltering from their sombre gaze to the glass resting on the marble in front of her.

“Rachel…………” He hesitated and swallowed hard, his heart searching for the right words to fix this.

“I’m sorry…….”

After what seemed an eternity she finally lifted her eyes to meet his, the emerald depths devoid of emotion.

“I’m sure you are Jon but you know what? Right now I couldn’t care less what you or anyone else has to say.”

She seemed to look straight through him, her voice even and measured. When she reached for the bottle to refill her glass, Jon held it slightly out of reach, his eyes imploring her to listen.

“I was a royal jerk.”

She glared at him for a moment before shrugging and holding her glass up for him to pour another shot into.

“That’s something we both agree on then.”

Sighing Jon relented and tipped another small shot on top of the slushy ice mix that was lining the bottom of her glass. He had expected shouting and screaming and possibly a tear or two but not this. A woman's quiet rage was not something he knew how to handle. Silence settled around them like a suffocating blanket, the muffled chirps of the crickets outside the only noise that wafted in from the open doors of the kitchen.

“Those things I said………if I could take them back I would.” It was his turn to stare down at the swirling stonework of the marble island, his fingers nervously tracing the textures of the polished surface. “But I don’t think I can find the words to do that…..”

Rachel took a more measured sip of her drink and chuckled drily.

“Hard to imagine THAT coming from a guy who makes a living writing words to songs the whole damn world sings.”  

She lifted her glass to him in a sarcastic toast,“Maybe you can write a song about it someday, something else for me to remember you by.”

With a heavy sigh she threw back the final dregs of the tequila and pushed her glass away from her and slid off the stool, her feet unsteadily supporting her.

“I presume you can find your way out the same way you came in – good night Jon.”

With a final resentful glance in his direction, she turned away and tiredly began walking to the hall door. A lead stone sank to the bottom of Jon’s stomach as he watched her walk away, he couldn’t leave things like this – this wasn’t how he rolled. In desperation he frantically thought of the only thing that just might make her stop and talk to him.

“Tell me about him.”

He scarcely dared to hope when she stopped mid walk, her head turning in his direction. For the first time that evening she looked directly at him, her eyes looking questionably at him as he fought to keep her from shutting him out.

“Tell me about your husband – tell me about Nick.”

Chapter Sixteen

Rachel’s eyes dropped to gaze at the rings nestled safely in her hand, their familiarity soothing yet unnerving her at the same time. She didn’t want to explain their existence, they were a part of her history and history was meant to stay in the past – right?

Jon watched as she silently stared at the rings he’d just handed over, his pulse quickening when she made no attempt to answer his question. God damn – he knew he should leave it, it was none of his business yet there were mysteries surrounding this woman that he wanted to solve. Also if he was messing around with a married woman he needed to know about it – the media would have a field day with it.

“Listen Rachel, I’m gonna be pretty blunt here.” He fixed her with a grim look. “If I’m screwing around with some guy’s wife then I need to KNOW that. I get enough shit written about me already without being blindsided by some pissed off husband going to the press about me fucking his wife blind." 

The blood drained from Rachel’s face as she blanched at his direct words. So here was the impetuous rock star in all his glory. A red hot anger surged through her veins.

“Through twenty years of marriage I never ONCE even THOUGHT about being unfaithful to my husband!”

Venom dripped from her words as she gripped the side of the kitchen island defiantly.

“Can YOU say the same?”

Ice cold blue eyes clashed against hers as Jon felt his temper rise to meet the one that was simmering just in front of him. A flashback to the woman he had first met on that dusty side road materialised in his brain, he hadn’t imagined her after all.

“My marriage is obviously no longer a concern – you should know considering you ‘Googled’ me.”

Shrugging he returned the glare she was pinning him with.

“I don’t have the advantage of being able to look up YOUR private life on the goddamn internet!”

Rachel stared into his angry eyes for a moment longer, her brain slowly registering the validity of his words. How would she feel if at the touch of a button her life and all its trouble were instantly accessible? She dropped her eyes to the floor, her shoulders quivering no longer with anger but with regret.

“I’m sorry……… but you should learn not to jump to conclusions……….”

“I generally don’t have much time to do anything else. My life is pretty fast paced at the best of times, I roll with the punches.” 

Jon’s tone was still icy and unrelenting, he wanted an explanation and he wanted one now.

“You said in twenty years you weren’t unfaithful to your husband – where is he now Rachel? Why isn’t he living over there with you…..?”

He gestured angrily out the window to her house in the distance.

“.... Maybe you’re morally opposed to actually WEARING your wedding ring while you fuck me senseless...it's somehow more palatable if you strap it around your neck? Guess I should be grateful you were hot enough for ME that you gave up on your twenty year run with monogamy.”

He cocked his head sideways, a cruel glint shining from the frosty depths of his eyes. 

“I can't imagine your better half would've been too thrilled with your rings, or you, winding up in my bed which makes you a real piece of work judging ME about my marriage...you know what? Why don’t we give him a call - maybe he and I can compare notes while having a beer."

Rachel whipped her head back, her eyes burning with such intensity he nearly flinched. How had she been so blind to even think she could ever have another relationship with anybody, let alone a world famous rock star whose ego was apparently as big as the house they were currently standing in. Her voice was dangerously quiet, the smooth lines of her face clenched in temper.

“You know something? You go from Prince fucking Charming to the ghetto with remarkable swiftness! This is NONE of your business, I don’t care who the fuck you THINK you are but I know now WHAT you are – an egotistical, self-obsessed, self-serving bastard!”

She paused for breath, hot and angry tears falling freely from her eyes. 

“Have no fear Mr. Bon Jovi – the press won’t hear about this from me, you can keep your precious slate clean!”

Jon felt his heart skip a beat at her outburst, he knew he’d been crueller with his words than he’d meant but his blood was up. He couldn’t help himself and he’d be damned if he’d stand here in his own kitchen and take crap from a woman who up until about ten minutes ago he’d thought of nothing more than a sweet, uncomplicated seduction. He'd only asked a simple fucking question for Christ's sake.

“Touché baby……." His lips curved into a thin sneer, “YOU went from being irresistible to 'common' also with remarkable swiftness.” He shook his head wryly. “It never ceases to amaze me how fast a woman is willing to shed her precious wedding ring to jump in the sack with me and THEN I’ve got the goddamn husbands wanting to tear me apart all because their beautiful wives couldn’t keep their panties on!”

He couldn’t figure out whether the look in her eyes was conveying hurt or disgust but he carried on regardless, his temper in full Bongiovi swing.

“So I’m presuming the husband in question must be arriving shortly huh? Considering you slinked back here to reclaim your lost symbols of fidelity in such a hurry.”

Jon reached behind him to pop the muscles in his neck, grimacing when he felt the familiar tension pop down his spine. The inscriptions in the rings that he had puzzled over this morning flashed back through his brain provoking another mocking outburst.

“Always my Hero? Yours Until My Forever Ends? What a crock of shit! So what time can I expect the mysterious Mr Braden to come banging my door down to fight for your honour? I’ll be sure to have the beers in……”

Rachel’s face was stony and pale but her eyes were swirling in a tumultuous storm of rage. Quietly and calmly she cut across him, her words effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“My husband is dead Jon.”

Her words slammed into Jon like a tornado, his brain whirling inside his head. His mouth dropped open in shock as she continued on her quiet but volatile rant.

“And, just for the record, he didn’t sell a hundred million records or make People Magazine’s list of sexiest men alive.  He didn’t sell out football stadiums or fly with Presidents on Air Force One. Nobody interviewed him asking about his hair or his ‘mega-watt smile’…or refer to him as the ‘charismatic front man’ of a rock band.”

The extent of her research amazed him, clearly she’d thought about this before giving in to his advances. He stared dumbfounded at her as she continued.

“I always thought of Nick as a bad boy, only slightly domesticated….” Rachel gave a small laugh, the storm in her eyes abating momentarily at the apparent memory, “…. and he was a man who saw in me something MORE than just ‘common’ as YOU put it. He took to fatherhood like a duck to water in spite of the fact he had a terrible role model in his own father…he relished it.”

“I adored him and I saw stars every time he touched me. I respected him but most important to me, was that HE respected ME.   In my ’twenty year run with monogamy’, as you so eloquently put it, he would never have dreamt of treating me like you just did – like some common groupie whore!”

Her lips quivered with anger as she spat the words out at him, her face contorted with such fury that when Jon made to speak with his shoulders slumped in regret she stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Not ONE more word from you! I think you’ve made it QUITE clear what you think about me.”

Jon's face fell as he listened to the coolness of her words, the tears that had been trickling down her face no longer in sight.

“No doubt you’re relieved that the husband of your most recent married conquest won’t come looking for you and for that matter, neither will I.”

With those final damning words Rachel marched around the island across the floor back to the door she had come through. Lightning bolts of anger and hurt jolted her body as she stumbled onto the patio, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. She should have known this was never going to work out, who was she kidding?

Jon stood rooted to the spot, his heart banging in his chest at the knowledge he now possessed. Lifting his head he dumbly watched through the window as Rachel walked swiftly across his lawn once more, her shoulders straight and her golden hair floating behind her with every defiant step that took her further away. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, how could he have been such a cruel bastard? 

He couldn’t recall an argument that vicious between himself and Dorothea even when they had been on the verge of divorce. He swore silently to himself as he lifted a shaking hand to run his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Way to go Jon, you complete fucking asshole……….