Chapter 60

Why can’t anybody do their job right the first time?

Rachel had spent much of the day finishing up the desserts Carol Bongiovi had asked her to bring for Thanksgiving.  Their earlier holiday festivities with Rachel’s family and the subsequent cross-crounty flight back to New Jersey to join Jon’s family for the actual holiday had left her a bit tired, but still looking forward to seeing his parents and family again.   The goodies were loaded in her SUV and she would have been at Jon’s by now and completely unloaded, warming her hands by the fire with a glass of wine standing by…if the damned gates to her house weren’t stuck.

Again.

Now, she was sitting in her driveway cooling her heels while she waited for Jon to come get her and fuming at the thought that she would be unable to get the gates repaired, or open enough to get her car out,  until after the long Thanksgiving weekend.  As if that little annoyance weren’t enough, Jon was still pulling out all the stops trying to persuade her to hide out in his New York apartment while he spent Sunday evening decorating Dorothea’s Christmas tree with his parents and children.  

Rachel was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t even see him pull up and park on the opposite side of the gate until he was already punching in the numeric code to the pedestrian entrance while she sat there trapped like a rat.   Naturally, he looked amazing.  They’d had the same amount of sleep, which wasn’t much, but he looked ready for a photo shoot while she’d had to apply an inch of spackle just to cover the dark circles around her eyes. 

She made her way to the back of the SUV and Jon’s hand cupped her rear end when he joined her there as she was bent over to retrieve the box of desserts stashed in the rear cargo hold.

“The last time I rescued you from these gates, you took your clothes off for me.  What’s in it for me this time?”

“Pumpkin pie.”  Rachel pivoted and passed off the box to Jon.  “And cookies.”

Accepting the box with a kiss to his lady, Jon offered up a modest pout.  “And the naked part?  When does that come?”

“Not today, love.  Your house is filled with parents and kids and that’s a ‘no-play zone’.

“But… come Sunday night I’ll be all alone in that big apartment.  No kids.  No parents.  And a raging hard on.  Wouldn’t you hate to see it go to waste?”

His wink was meant to be charming, Rachel was certain of that.   She would try to keep her mood lighter than she actually felt the topic merited.  “You’re relentless!  I’m worried about not being able to get my car out of these gates all weekend and your only concern is what you’re going to do with your pecker.”

“Oh, I know what to do with my pecker, baby.  It’s just a matter of convincing you to let me do it Sunday night.”

Later that afternoon, the jammed gates temporarily forgotten, Rachel had finally convinced Carol to take a break and let her tidy up the kitchen before the finishing touches to their holiday dinner were due.  She and Jon were feeling playful with each other while she unloaded the dishwasher and he…"helped"…. mostly just by pawing her every time she bent to remove the clean dishes from the bottom rack.    

“Why is it I’m the one doing the dishes, exactly? 

Jon tugged her against his chest and slid his hands down her back to rest on her bottom.  “Oh no you don’t.  These are your rules.  You do the dishes because you’re the girl, remember?  And I unload the car because I’m the guy.  You make the bed, I take the trash out.” 

He had just slipped one hand under her ass and between her legs when Dorothea walked in, kids straggling in with her along with an unknown man whom Rachel assumed was the new boyfriend, Ted.

It was not how Rachel planned on meeting the woman for the first time.

If she’d been a betting woman, Rachel would’ve put her money on Dorothea feeling the sting of walking into her former home, to find her former husband pawing his new love in her former kitchen.  That guess was based on the flash of a grimace the former Mrs. Bongiovi tried to get under control before she smiled sweetly and chastised her ex-husband.  “Maybe Daddy needed a reminder call that the kiddies were coming over.”

“Maybe Mommy needs to knock.”  Jon offered Dorothea his ‘rock star smile’ before he released his hold on Rachel, but the  presence of his former wife had created a noticeable tensing of his body.  Rachel would bet on Jon being every bit as uncomfortable as she perceived Dorothea to be. 

Romeo rushing into his father’s arms was a merciful distraction from a potentially tense exchange between the two parents.  Jon picked the boy up with an enthusiastic hug and kiss to his cheek.  “Hey there, buddy!”  Then a hand was graciously extended to the dark-haired man accompanying his ex-wife.  “Hi.  I’m Jon.”

“Ted Hunter.  Good to meet you.”

The two men shook hands and Romeo began to scurry down Jon’s leg, no longer content to be confined in his father’s arms.   Jon ruffled the boy’s hair before returning the polite greeting and introducing the couple to his new love.   “Good to meet you, too.  This is Rachel Braden.” 

The women exchanged politically correct pleasantries with Rachel complimenting Dorothea on her children, which she figured was always a good way to go.   Dorothea had assured Rachel that she’d ‘heard great things’ about her.  She assumed Jon’s ex knew her story, it would seem logical that Stephanie had told her of the death of Nick and their children.   The meeting was painless and brief, with Ted explaining they were just dropping the kids off before heading to his family’s for the holiday and needed to be on their way.

While Jon walked them to the door, Rachel was left to ponder her own thoughts.  She looked out the window above the kitchen sink and considered the two people who had designed and built the house she was now considering home.   There was something unusually sad about the demise of the marriage between the two high school sweethearts.  She wondered if Jon ever thought of the dreams and years he had shared with Dorothea and if it seemed as sad to him as it did to her, beyond the splitting up of their family. 

And then there was his ex-wife….Rachel couldn’t help but notice the irony in the fact that the man who brought her so much happiness had been the same man Dorothea had thrown away. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jon’s chin on her shoulder and hands on each of her hips.  “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Head dropping back to his shoulder, Rachel placed her hands over his before answering.   “Mm….I was thinking it’s true what they say about one man’s trash being another man’s treasure…..”

Jon stood still for several minutes, content to simply feel the warmth of Rachel’s body while he absorbed her words. 

His mind reminisced over the Thanksgivings he had shared with Dorothea, many in this very house.   The good memories with her were abundant, that was a certainty.   She had been an important influence on his life – so much of who he was as a man was formed by her.  When he looked back, he didn’t know if they had actually shared the same philosophies or if they had just grown together so much they were without knowing who they truly were as individuals. 

Jon reflected on their young beginning, the promises they’d made and the bond they shared.  Their breakup in the early years of his career had ultimately led him to women who didn’t share the same basic foundation he shared with Dorothea.  After so many years together, he knew what to expect with her and he hated change.  There was no doubt he had loved her deeply, and would always love her deeply.  But their relationship was based on the feelings they’d had as kids.  Time and maturity had changed them both, enough that neither of them were completely satisfied with the other.  

And now… Now he had Rachel.   She’d gotten under his skin from the first time he saw her.  There was a fragility about her that was intoxicating when meshed with her strength and Jon couldn’t get enough of her.   He’d never get enough of her, he was sure of that much.

His hands slid from her hips to wrap around her waist and he pulled her tightly against his chest.  “I love you, Rach.”  His quiet words were followed by a brush of his lips against her neck. “And maybe that will somehow be enough… maybe if I love you, like I know you love me, you’ll be able to focus on all that you have, and not all that you’ve lost.”

For a guy who made a living putting words to music, Jon wasn’t always the most eloquent with his sentiments when it came to love.  He was more the kind of guy who showed his love rather than spoke of it outside of lyrics to some song.   He wanted to be the guy that swooped in and rescued her heart from the mangled mess her life had been when he found her.

And she couldn’t even be bothered to return the effort by meeting his small request and join him in the City after he decorated a silly Christmas tree with his kids?  How could she deny him such a simple thing?  More importantly, why would she want to?

Wrapped up in her own thoughts without realizing his, Rachel didn’t trust herself enough to speak what was in her heart.   Instead, she wrapped her pinky finger around his and squeezed hard for a few seconds to gather her thoughts while his words hung in the air

Rachel turned in his arms, seeking the reassurance she always found in his eyes.  He needn’t have spoken the words, everything she needed to know she found when she met his gaze.  It was Thanksgiving, and there was so much to be thankful for.   Life was short, uncertain.  Why would she willingly spend one moment away from him?

Stepping up on her tip toes, Rachel took his face in her hands and clung to his neck before kissing him.  “I think Sunday night with you in New York City sounds like a beautiful way to spend an evening.”

Chapter 59

The last time she’d left San Francisco under the blanket of night, Rachel was headed for New Jersey, as she was now.  Only then she’d been broken and hanging on by the hair of her chinny-chin-chin, so to speak.  The months-ago red-eye flight that ultimately led her to Jon – and  a whole new life – hadn’t been nearly as luxurious or as pleasant as the flight she was now sharing with him.

  

As soon as they were safely in the air, Jon had slipped away to use the bathroom.  Rachel was left alone with her thoughts as she watched the twinkling lights of the Bay Area fall away beneath them as the plane continued to climb into the clouds.

“What are you thinking about?”

His return had interrupted her jaunt down Not-So-Happy Memory Lane, and it was more than welcome.  “Just remembering the night I left here and then found myself living next door to a rock star.”

Ordinarily, Jon took the window seat and Rachel sat on the aisle next to him, but tonight their positions were reversed, and she was at the window.  The couch across from their seats had been made out to accommodate a more comfortable sleep during the long flight to New Jersey and she hoped to be able to relax enough to take advantage of it.

The lights on the ground were still visible, though not as pronounced as they’d been when she left California so many months ago, and it was a breathtaking sight.  “The lights tonight look so beautiful.  Not at all haunting like they were that night.  I remember I couldn’t bear to watch it disappear, so I closed the shades on the window and willed myself to just not look back.”

Rachel could see the change in Jon’s body language and she knew him well enough to know he was struggling with what his response to that should be.  She didn’t want a response, and she certainly didn’t want to be a downer, so she made an intentional shift in the tone of their conversation.  “Of course if I’d known I’d fall in love with the first sweaty, blonde man jogging on the side of the road I might have been more excited that night.”

His smile was both relieved and grateful.  “And if I’d known the cute blonde trying to push her luggage through that gate was gonna turn out to be a sexual predator, I’d have kept on running instead of stopping to help.”

“Bullshit.  If you’d known you were gonna get lucky with the new neighbor you’d have carried my bags on top of your head while hopping on one foot up the driveway.  You were desperate for some action, that’s for sure. ” 

Jon snorted in laughter as he powered up his laptop to check emails.  “I probably wasn’t as desperate to get laid as you’d like to believe, Rach. “

It was actually shameful how much it turned her on that he’d been a complete man-whore before she came into the picture.  Women were helpless and hopeless with one wink from Jon.  Whether a high-society party or fundraiser for the hungry and/or homeless, Rachel could count on at least a dozen women trying to pack him up and take him home from any given event they attended.  

“Oh really, baby?  When I met you, how long had it been since you’d gotten laid?”

“About an hour.”

Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, with an amused grin thrown in for good measure.  Rachel shouldn’t have been surprised.  And really, she wasn’t.  “You’re such a slut.” 

Jon attempted to look ashamed but he couldn’t quite pull it off, although Rachel appreciated his poetic attempt to lessen the feigned sting.  “I was a slut.  But then you saved me from myself and a lifetime of meaningless one-night stands with hot, young girls half my age.  Thank you, baby.”

“Just call me cost-saving initiative.  Think how much money you’ll save on Christmas presents this year now that you’ve weeded out your female companions.” 

“Speaking of Christmas…Val just sent me a list of parties coming up.  You don’t have to go to all of them, or any of them for that matter, but you’re welcome to come to any that you’d like to.”  Jon was glancing down the list of names in his email when one in particular caught his eye.  “Paul McCartney always has a great group of people – you’ll love that one.  You’ve met Ron, so you may enjoy that one, too.  Looks like Warren Buffett is having a party…”

Rachel’s eyes were wide and her gasp was loud enough to have been an embarrassment if she’d cared enough to be embarrassed.  “YOU KNOW WARREN BUFFETT?”

The famed businessman had been a huge inspiration to Rachel and she had read nearly 20 books about him.  He was said to be immensely frugal, continuing to live in the home he purchased in the 1950’s and was as well known for his philanthropic endeavors as his business genius.   Rachel had seen most every interview of him in the last decade and was as intrigued with his storyteller’s personality as she was his down-to-earth way of making business decisions.   In her world, Warren Buffet was the rock star. 

Jon looked like a confused puppy.   “You’re not remotely impressed that I’m performing for the President of the United States, or that Paul McCartney has invited me to his Christmas party…but you get off on me knowing Warren Buffett?”

Rachel’s heart was pounding with excitement.  “If you can get me into Warren Buffet’s party I will reward you in ways you’ve never dreamed of.”  She leaned across the armrest to turn Jon’s face toward hers and deliver a kiss that scorched him to his toes.

The smirk on Jon’s face was positively lecherous.   “Really.  Hmm.  I can get you into the party – if I’m inclined that way.  What’d you have in mind?”

“Name it, baby.” 

Jon licked his bottom lip and ran his finger down her throat before stroking the fullness at the top of her breast.   “Well… for starters, anytime you get caught under mistletoe I’m thinking instead of just a kiss….”

Releasing her seatbelt, Rachel was free to climb onto his lap, grabbing a handful of his famous hair just before she took his bottom lip between hers.  “Consider it done. What else?”

“So you really have no scruples about whoring yourself out to me for a simple invitation to a Christmas party?”

“None at all…. Warren Buffett is my idol - I would kill to watch him in action.  That man has forgotten more about business than I’ll ever know.”   She unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt and slipped her hand into the thickness of his furry chest.  “I will use and abuse you any way I have to - or any way you want me to - so long as you can get me in that party.”

“Wow….my personal love slave.  Can you work a pole?”

 “If Warren Buffett has a pole, I’ll work it."  Rachel tucked her leg under her to straddle Jon’s lap and got rid of the last two buttons on his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and leaving him precariously half-dressed.

His thumbs were caressing her inner thighs through her jeans and the amused smirk had been replaced with pure, unadulterated lust.  “Am I misunderstanding this situation or has the mere mention of his name turned you on?”

Her hips had a mind of their own as they ground into him and she could feel his body responding exactly as she intended.   “No misunderstanding…I am MAJORLY turned on.  And for the duration of this flight I intend to show you exactly how turned on, thus securing my invitation to attend this party with you.” 

His hands slid up to her waist and firmly grabbed hold.  “You do not want to tease me right now.”

With his chest virtually bare, Rachel couldn’t resist scraping her teeth across his nipple as she slid to the floor.  “No teasing here, baby.”  Popping the button on his jeans, her hand crept in to find him already hard.  With two taps to his thigh, she commanded “Up.”

“I do like a woman who can put her money where her mouth is,” he murmured before lifting his hips for Rachel to slide his jeans far enough down to get them out of her way. 

The way he sucked the air through his teeth turned her on every time – the hiss was one of the reasons she loved going down on him.  That and the fact that she could depend on him to growl just as he grabbed her by the back of her head, his fingers pressing into her skull as she wound her tongue around his head.

The sounds he made during sex were as much a turn on as the faces he made and Rachel knew just what to do to get her favorites.  It was predictable in the hottest way possible.  He was particularly expressive when she scraped her bottom teeth on the underside, sucking at the tip, and tonight she was exceptionally aggressive.

“Ooh, I like it baby… but watch the teeth.” Her tongue swirled around his length over and over again with a nip here, a lick there until Jon tugged at her hair and motioned to the sliding partition that separated them from the main cabin of the aircraft.  “Lock that door.” 

When Rachel stood to flick the lock that would assure them privacy, Jon suddenly approached from behind and roughly placed her hands on the door.   She could feel him toeing off his boots and then kicking his jeans away.  “You’re overdressed.”  It seemed he had five hands – her jeans were halfway to her knees before she even noticed her breasts were bare against the door – and she had no recollection of how she got into that particular state, let alone where her bra had wandered off to.

Led to the bed like the proverbial lamb to the slaughter, Rachel was none-too-gently tossed onto it and Jon entered her as quickly as he’d disrobed her.  Her orgasm was virtually instantaneous when he ran his palm over the arm above her head and wound his fingers into hers, whispering, “Thrash for me, baby.”

He’d told her time and again how he knew when he was driving her crazy and how he loved to watch her get so into their sexual antics that she’d thrash her head from side to side.  It didn’t happen every time, but when it did… it took the intensity to a whole new level for both of them.   The way their bodies moved, the things they said… well, it would be embarrassing outside of that realm.  But in that heat of the sexual moment no two people could ever be closer and nothing was off limits.  

So she thrashed while he took complete ownership of her.  The raunchy, lecherous things he rasped into her ear were matched in her own filthy, passion-induced demands and promises.  The wanton words that would never pass through her lips while she was in her right mind stoked the flames the burned between them.  They sizzled with a heat potent enough to melt metal, drop by drop, until transforming both of them into a spent puddle of steel..

In the aftermath, the two lay twisted together with only the hum of the jet engines to break the silence.  It was one of those moments Rachel liked to call “comfortable silence” – these moments when they laid together, sweaty, exhausted and satisfied beyond the necessity for words.  She was just dozing off when Jon nuzzled closer into her and nipped her ear.

“Hey honey…. I know Bill Gates, too.”

Chapter Fifty Eight

How can one man create SO much laundry?  

Rachel shook her head in amazement as she carried another mountain of wet towels downstairs to the laundry room. It was obvious Jon was used to hotels and room service as he never used the same towel twice and in all the months they’d been together, she didn’t think he’d ever hung one up.  On a good day, he threw it into the bathtub, but usually it was just left on the floor – where it would remain until she picked it up.

And yet…he’ll wear the same dirty jeans day after day.

With the laundry under control, it was back to the kitchen to resume holiday baking where she found Jon pouring coffee for them both.  “Thanks,” was her terse acknowledgment of him and his predictable peace offering.

“Does that mean you’ll give me a little kiss now?”  Jon’s overly exaggerated pucker was returned with only a peck that noticeably lacked Rachel’s usual enthusiasm for his kisses.  He sat his mug on the counter and palmed the small of her back while roughened fingertips teased along the waist of her jeans.  “Hey…How long are you gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“I’m not giving you the cold shoulder, Jon.”  Rachel shrugged her shoulders and sidestepped him to  reach for the bowl of apples she was using in one of her Thanksgiving pies.   “We had a disagreement.   I’ll get over it and so will you, I assume. Let’s not talk it to death.”

“Fine.  We’ll drop it.”  His hand slipped lower on her jeans and he kissed the corner of her mouth before switching the subject.  “Val said she sent you security clearance information for the Inauguration.  I know you’re not a big Obama supporter, but it is history in the making.  I appreciate you coming, and I think you’ll actually enjoy it.”

It was true, she wasn’t an Obama supporter, but Jon had been invited to attend and perform at the function and Rachel knew it was something he was proud of.

“I told you that I would support the things you’re involved in. I know it’s an important event and an honor for you to have been invited. I’m excited to go with you.”

“Good! I’m glad you’re coming. Val is sending you an itinerary with dress code information. And….I asked her to get a credit card for you so you don’t have to pick up the tab for all these appearances you get stuck with because of me.”

“You don’t need to do that…”

There was a brief pause where the only sound was that of Jon’s heavy sigh followed by a shake of his head.  “Honey…could this be one of those things we don’t have to talk to death?  Maybe you could just go with the flow on this one, huh?”

They’d been at odds enough for one day and Rachel decided it wouldn’t kill her to let him have his way.  She wouldn’t be relinquishing her ovaries in bypassing a discussion that would assert her ability to take care of her own shopping needs – financial or otherwise.  And…his lips did look awfully kissable.

She stepped into him as she ran her hands up his chest until her fingers could burrow into the hair at the back of his neck.  “I hope it has a high limit, stud.  After your obnoxious behavior today I’m not feeling very frugal.”

“Spend all you want….just so long as you don’t cut me off in the bedroom.”

His crooked grin nearly melted her panties right there and then, and the remaining icicles hanging from her heart dissipated in a puff of steam. Rachel found his bottom lip irresistible as she let her tongue dance lightly along it’s curve.  “Pfft!  I’m not cutting my OWN nose off….”

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

The evening had been spent with Rachel’s family dining at yet another of the local wineries that boasted a menu any New York chef would find impressive. Jon spent most of his time talking with the men, while the sisters and their mother were neck-deep in baby talk over the newest member of the family.  Robin’s first grandchild, Hunter, was the infant of honor this time around and he had charmed Rachel at first whiff.  Her nose was embedded in the top of his head every time she got near him-she couldn’t get enough of the ‘baby smell’.   

Jon had taken advantage of the rare opportunity to study Rachel, realizing it was probably the closest to a mother role as he was ever likely to see her.  She was a natural with a baby, he’d give her that.  When her great-nephew had fussed, she had cooed him into a calm, sleeping angel without any effort at all. It also didn’t escape him that she was exquisite with a baby in her arms, and the visual stirred something deep inside him.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t paternal longing, but rather selfish guilt.  Starting over with diapers, bottles, car seats and strollers just wasn’t of interest to him.

Back home, their evening followed its typical routine – Jon took care of business calls while Rachel soaked in the tub.  If he was quick, he could be off the phone and join her before she finished her bath which meant he’d be able to witness her body-moisturizing ritual that he was so obsessed with.  

Propped against the doorway,  Jon now saw Rachel in a whole new light and it wasn’t the candles surrounding her bubble-laden tub.  He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the trip to California had thrown him face to face with babies at every turn.  Everywhere they went it seemed there was a diaper bag, a bottle or a bald little person being passed around the room.  Tonight had been no exception.  

With her hair pinned up to keep it out of the water, the tendon along Rachel’s neck was accentuated and Jon had an insatiable desire to lick the moisture running down it.  

Or maybe you just want to get close enough to her to forget what a selfish ass you really are.

“Think there’s room in there for me?” Approaching the oversized tub with a hopeful grin, Jon sat two glasses of chilled wine on the edge and tugged his sweater over his head, tossing it into the closet across the room.

“I think I can squeeze you in.”  

Was it attraction or affection he saw when Rachel turned her head and softly responded to him?  

Love or lust?   

As he unfastened the button at the waist of his jeans, discarding them alongside the sweater, Jon was aware something had quietly changed between them.  And, settling into the hot, sudsy water with Rachel comfortably between his legs, he knew it was a good change. The intimacy of a disagreement, coupled with the absolute certainty it wasn’t a relationship-ending event, had deepened and strengthened his love for her.  

“You look beautiful tonight. I think you’ve missed your family more than you’d like to let on….you come alive when you’re with them.”

“Funny….THEY think I come alive when I’m with YOU.  I believe my sister called it a ‘glow’.”

“Hmm…is that a fact?”  Unable to resist the taunting tendon another minute, the tip of his tongue traced it to her earlobe and winding his arms around her waist, he pulled her even closer to his chest.  “You do have a little pink going on in your cheeks….it’s kinda like the flush you get when you’re turned on.”

One wet arm emerged from the bubbly water and back around Jon’s neck as Rachel cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes with a shameless smirk at his hard on that was becoming increasingly evident beneath the foamy water.

“And since I’m perpetually turned on these days…”

“Hmmf….tell me about it.”  

It was true. Jon was in a near-constant state of arousal. The first few months he’d written it off to the newness of the relationship, but now he attributed it to some weird chemistry they shared both in and out of the bedroom.  It was almost like they had their own unspoken language sometimes.  They could communicate with each other through the slightest of touches, or an exchanged look across the room.   

“Are you gonna be ready to go home tomorrow night?”

“I think so, yeah. I mean, I’ll miss my family, but we’ll be back here in a few weeks for Christmas and I’m looking forward to that. Baby Hunter’s first Christmas…I bet I won’t even recognize him by then – you  know how much they change at this stage.”

His hand stroking her breast wasn’t intended to be anything sexual, he was just touching her.   “So, did you get your baby fix?”

“What do you mean?”

“Once you got your hands on that kid you didn’t want to put him down.  Just wondering if you’ve gotten the baby thing out of your system?”

“Worried I’m going to want you to knock me up, sweetie?”

“Nuh uh.  Even those boobs aren’t getting me on board for babies.  Been there, done that.”

“I dunno….you like my boobs an awful lot.”

“Mmm…. S’true….I do like ‘em.  And I want ‘em all for myself.”   Jon was now absently tracing circles along the side of her breast already thinking toward the Bongiovi holiday schedule.   “After tomorrow night my kids will be with me and these perfect boobs will be off limits for four whole days.”

“Wait…four days?  Don’t you mean three days?”

“No.  When I take the kids back Sunday afternoon we’re decorating their Christmas tree so I’m staying in the City….”  The nuzzle into Rachel’s neck was meant to be playful and enticing.   “Wanna  meet me at the apartment that night for a booty call?”

Having no desire to return to their contentious conversation of the morning, Rachel paused to collect her thoughts before giving in to the varied retorts the green-eyed monster in her head was flinging at her.   “I’m not the girl you call for a roll in the hay after you’ve played family with your ex-wife and kids, Jon.” Her response was delivered in a calm tone and she hoped it would be received as such.

“That’s not what I meant-you know that.  And I don’t ‘play family’ with Dorothea-We share kids, ya know.”

“Yeah.  I know.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear, little girl?”  

Turning as much as was possible in the tub, Rachel gazed into the blue eyes that left millions of women breathless, herself among them, and ran her fingernail down the damp chest hair.  She didn’t want this to get blown out of proportion and she didn’t think she was ‘jealous’.  Something about Jon spending so much time with Dorothea just felt… wrong.

“You still celebrate your ex-wife’s birthday with her, you go to dinner with her every chance you get, you’re decorating her Christmas tree with her… while I’m just the gal you wanna have a booty call with when you’re finished with all that with her.  Is it unreasonable if I that rubs me the wrong way? ”

“Oh, honey, c’mon.  I do all those things for the benefit of my children, especially Jake and Romeo. They’re so young they won’t have the memories of their family intact – their parents together – like Steph and Jesse have.

The finger attached to the fingernail that had previously been scraping the front of Jon’s chest was now absently circling his pronounced nipple.   “I wouldn’t love you if you were the kind of guy who wasn’t active with his kids.  It’s just… the whole Christmas tree thing…it was always such an intimate, special thing for my family.  I guess it stung a little bit that you’d do that with your ex-wife.”

Pulling her back to lean against his chest, Jon never let up on his soothing fingertip massage that was as smooth as his voice. “You and I can still decorate a tree at your house….how’s that?  We’ll even go cut one if you want to…. okay?”

“I’m being selfish and silly.   I know it’s for your kids.  I guess I’m going to have to get used to dealing with an ex-wife.”  Rachel felt a little ashamed for being cranky about Jon decorating a freaking Christmas tree with his kids – which only happened to be at his ex-wife’s house. If things had been different, she was certain she wouldn’t like a new woman interfering with Nick’s efforts to remain active in their children’s lives.  What was wrong with her?  “You’re right…we’ll do a tree at my house together.  I’m sorry…something just hit me wrong.  It’s wonderful that you both make such an effort for your kids.”

Suddenly she felt tired, anxious to crawl into bed and sleep off whatever negative virus she’d infected herself with.  Reaching for a towel, she was drawn back by Jon’s gentle tug on her wrist.  

“Hey…c’mere.  I don’t like the way the mood shifted here.  Stay with me…”  Jon reached around her waist, cupping one breast in the process.   “Weren’t you just taunting me with those boobs you know I like so much?”

It was one of those moments when she really would like to just go to bed, but the ensuing battle was more than Rachel wanted to deal with.  If she claimed she was tired after having been so obviously interested in his earlier sexual overtures, he would know she still felt odd about the time he was spending with Dorothea.  They were celebrating the Thanksgiving holidays the next couple of days and she didn’t want anything to spoil that.  

Seriously?  You’re complaining about having to have sex with Jon Bon Jovi?

The irony wasn’t lost on her.  This was the same man she couldn’t keep her hands off of on any given day.  And he wanted to do things to her body that would make a sailor blush.

Time and time again.

There was something about those callouses on his fingers, and when he slipped them between her legs her desire to just go to sleep was forgotten.  She settled back into his chest, maneuvering just enough to allow him access to all his favorite places.   

When he brought her earlobe into his mouth and gave her nipple a little pinch with the hand that wasn’t burying itself elsewhere, she sighed softly, “What AM I gonna do with you?”

“Anything you want.”

Chapter Fifty Seven

Sleeping late had been a decadently luxurious indulgence, followed by coffee in front of a small fire while they watched the West Coast edition of the ‘Today’ show. Sadly, the ‘snap, crackle, pop’ wasn’t coming from any breakfast cereal, but rather their respective joints.

The floor in front of the fireplace had been their playground. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. However, waking in the middle of the night as cold as the ashes in the long-extinguished fire, Jon and Rachel found their backs stiff and their knees reminiscing about better days.  

Wilfully refusing to acknowledge the aches that marked him as old enough to know better, Jon went for his usual morning run while Rachel showered, anticipating a full day of holiday baking. When she stepped into the hot, steaming shower she moaned as the water hit her aching shoulders, a not-so-subtle reminder she was too old to be rolling around on her family room floor.

Youth. It’s wasted on the young.

Shower complete, she dressed in her usual comfortable jeans and sweater and set about making the bed. It was a quick job this morning, seeing as they'd barely moved once they'd finally gotten into it. Normally, she had to completely remake it because Jon had a way of tearing the sheets loose at the bottom and it made Rachel nuts. She liked the sheets and blankets to be tightly tucked at the bottom.

Jon’s years of living on the road had trained him to sleep anywhere, no matter the conditions surrounding him or the position he was in, so it didn't matter to him if their sexual antics completely thrashed the bedcovers. Sleeping on a bare mattress didn't bother him in the least.

Rachel, on the other hand, needed order in her life – and that included her hospital-cornered sheets.

When her upstairs chores were complete, she made her way to the kitchen. With another cup of coffee at the ready and Christmas music softly playing from the stereo, she immersed herself elbow deep in a batch of pie dough.

She was covered with bits and pieces of that dough when a call from James ran through to her cell phone. Not in the mood to have work interfering with her holiday preparations, she toyed with the idea of ignoring the call. Ultimately, reasoning that she was better off to take care of it sooner rather than later, she haphazardly wiped one finger with a dish towel and tapped to answer the call on speaker phone.

“Hi James.”

“Hello, pretty lady! How are you this fine day?”

“Doing great. How about you? Ready for Thanksgiving?”

Her response was immediate and robotic. So distracted was she by obsessively measuring the precise of amount of flour for her recipe, the flirtatious tone in her boss’s voice went completely over her head.  Bent over the kitchen island, squinting at the recipe card and with her back to the kitchen entrance she never heard the front door close or noticed Jon coming within earshot.

“That’s what I'm calling about. I know your family is all out west. I wondered if you might like to join me for Thanksgiving? It would give us a chance to catch up and, well... I didn’t want you to be alone for the holidays.”

Rachel’s head fell back in laughter. She didn’t know if she was just happy in general or if the predictable behavior of her former lover was what made her cackle. “Oh James, that is SO like you….to wait until the last second just in case something better came along.”

“I’m hurt, Rachel. Truly hurt that you would think such a thing. It’s like a dagger through my heart. I've been on the golf course all afternoon and just now got around to calling.”

“James if you were concerned that I'd be left alone for a major holiday, you wouldn't have waited until the day before to ask me to join you. All these years later you've not changed one bit and if you've been golfing all day, you've been drinking every bit as long.”

If she hadn't been so distracted, she would have noticed the lazy enunciation of his words right away. James had always been a party animal, in addition to being an avid golfer, and the two pleasures had generally gone hand-in-hand during their relationship. A round of golf usually meant James would end up half in the bag before the 9th hole.  

“Sure, there’s been a few drinks, but I think of it as liquid courage,” he countered. “It gives me the guts to ask you to spend the holiday with me. In fact… why don't you come for the weekend? I'll show you around Manhattan – first class all the way. You’ll love it!”

Crap. Is that the third cup of flour or the fourth?

Cooking was one of Rachel’s passions, but baking was not cooking. It was another thing altogether. Baking was scientific and required that exact amounts be carefully measured. There was no room for error and her conversation with James had distracted her enough to lose count.

  

“No can do, my friend. I’m in California. I’ve been working remotely from here and I’m spending the holiday with my family.”

“No kidding? How are your parents? Doing well I hope.”

“Oh yeah, they're great.”

Rachel was attempting to make polite conversation in spite of trying to mentally calculate the amount of ingredients needed to double her recipe. She really wished James would let her get off the phone and get her holiday mojo back on track.

“And your sister? Robin, right?”

“Right….she’s great. In fact we all went to Napa just yesterday.”  

Mentally wondering if there was enough flour to finish this project and lulled by the mindless conversation, she was completely unprepared for the husky turn to James’s tone and his new choice in subject matter.

“Oh hell, remember that little place in Sonoma we went for the weekend? We took the Wine Train…remember? And then the picnic in the vineyard? Not to mention making love all afternoon in that very vineyard…”

Startled eyebrows crashed together in the middle of her face and her head snapped back in distaste. James was lucky she knew that he would never cross that taboo line from business to personal if he hadn’t been ‘playing with the boys’.  

“Nope… don't remember a thing. I'll plead the Fifth on that one. Besides, I’m in the middle of holiday baking so I need to get off the phone.”

“Oh come on sweetheart, no need to get shy on me! There are no secrets between us. You know we had some crazy times together.” James continued his semi-seduction with a lecherous chuckle. “One night with you usually left me with scrapes, bruises and scabs in the MOST unusual places. We were wild, weren't we?”

The unpleasant memory of those days lit her mind’s eye like a Hollywood movie premiere. She'd been very naïve back in the day and James had taken unquestionable advantage of it and her. Rachel had believed that when he offered her the professional opportunity she now enjoyed, he was trying to make amends. Having gotten over him and his shoddy treatment long ago, she'd been grateful for his effort to right the wrongs of the past. She'd been even more grateful for the lifeline he threw her after the accident ripped her world to shreds.  But she certainly felt no attraction to him.  

Particularly now, since he'd somehow managed to take her out of the blissful bubble she’d built with Jon, dragging her back to a dark, ugly past that she had no desire to relive. There was a brief moment of nausea as she recalled the countless times she woke in the middle of the night somehow knowing James was with another woman. The bitterness barked out of her before she could stop herself.   

“Unfortunately, those scabbed over knees were usually from a wild night you spent with somebody else. While I took care of your clients and your business, YOU were usually out on your boat with some title rep bent over the engine cover.”

James wasn't even slightly deterred. “Hey now! I’m unattached, you're unattached… We always were perfect for each other and I've grown up. A wife and kids is my future. All that wild stuff…  It’s in the past, Pup.”

The use of his once-upon-a-time pet name turned Rachel’s attitude from bad to worse. He’d called her ‘Puppy’ saying she was so young and little more than a puppy running with the big dogs of the business world. At the time, she'd foolishly thought it was cute but now she clearly saw it was his passive-aggressive way of holding her back – from building a business of her own outside of him and his world.   

Stunned at his forwardness even with their past history, Rachel angrily turned to pick up her phone and saw Jon standing there propped against the pantry. His jaw was set in a hard, unforgiving line and his arms were crossed over a puffed-out chest. He was not a happy camper.

Well, too bad. Jon wasn't even on her radar.  

Rachel was now a successful business woman in her own right. James might be her boss but he no longer had the same influence over her that he'd had so many years before. And he would damn well know it. “I’m not a pup anymore James" she coldly spat into the phone.  "And I don't ever make the same mistakes twice. I'll speak with you on Monday – when I’m back to WORK.”

A quick tap to the ‘End Call’ button had her former love out of her hair just in time for her current love to crawl into it.  

“WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS THAT?”  Jon’s demanding question was issued with a frown and arms thrown out to his sides in a stance that could've been a billboard for the New Jersey Board of Tourism.

  

Dwelling on the pain of the past wasn't Rachel’s standard operating procedure. She sure wasn't going to ruin her Thanksgiving holiday on something as absurd as James’s comments, inappropriate as they were.  

“Chill out. He’s probably had one too many drinks on the golf course – I'll handle it next week.”

Judging from the vein beginning to bulge in his temple, Jon saw things differently. "YOU haven't been drinking! You had a perfect opportunity to correct his idea that you're ‘unattached’."

She just rolled her eyes, turning back to her recipe card and bowl of ingredients, ready to finish the project the unwanted call had interrupted.  

“I don't owe him an explanation of my relationship status…. ”

“Oh yeah? Well you sure as hell didn't have any problem explaining your relationship status to the girls from MY past! You couldn't shut them down fast enough!” The pitch of his voice was every bit as high as the high notes in ‘Prayer’ ever thought of being. “What the fuck? Sounds to me like your buddy got quite a ride….scabs and all!”

It was such a ludicrous thing for him to be throwing a hissy fit about, that Rachel couldn’t justify being any more than merely annoyed with him. “Are you serious?  That was like…. twenty five years ago, or maybe more. Do you REALLY wanna talk about what YOU were up to twenty five years ago?”

“I don’t currently work for women I used to fuck during an afternoon rendezvous in a vineyard for Chrissake! But if I did and they were hitting on me – I’d make sure they knew I was NOT ‘unattached’.”

This silly battle was one Rachel refused to engage in. She deserved a pat on the back for that AND for stifling the urge to remind Jon that being ‘attached’ had never hindered him in the past. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hit the button that would redial James’ phone number before giving Jon the slightest of shrugs. “No problem. I can take care of that right now.”

James’s voice was clear as a bell when he answered on the second ring.

“Hellooooo sweetheart. Change your mind?”

“James, just so you're aware, I have you on speaker.” Her tone was all business. There would be no misinterpreting this phone call. “The man I have been involved with for several months is standing here with me. When you called a few minutes ago, I didn't feel the need to explain that I was NOT unattached because I see our relationship as strictly professional in spite of our personal past.” The death glare she was using on Jon was as icy as her voice when she continued with James. “I assume we will never have a conversation like the phone call you just made to me again. Correct?”

“Rachel – I was just having a little harmless fun - don't be so serious and tell your boyfriend to get a grip, I-“

Before James could finish his thought, Jon reached across the counter and yanked the phone out of Rachel’s hand. He swiftly brought it to his mouth and in a hiss that sounded calmer than he actually was, Jon laid the rules down in one simple sentence.   

“Listen you piece of fuck…  Don’t ever cross the line like that again or your permanent unemployment will be the least of your problems.”

He disconnected the call without waiting for a response and tossed the phone onto the counter before grumbling to Rachel, “ I'm taking a shower.”

He took the stairs two at a time, probably stomping a little more than he had a right to. When the sweaty workout clothes had been tossed into a heap on the floor, he stood at the bathroom mirror shaving. With each swipe of the razor, he tried not to wish he was cutting across that sleazy fuck’s throat and tried to get a handle on what exactly had set him off.  

Not that it took a brain surgeon to figure it out.

The visual of Rachel flailing around in bed with any other man like she did him… had incensed him. Made him positively livid. The fact that it was twenty five years ago was of no consequence. The intimate, even if cross, way that she spoke to the guy on the phone stirred a jealousy in Jon that was irrational and red hot.  

Then there was that other thing…

Hearing another man talk about wanting a wife and kids - with Rachel – had left him even more uneasy if he was going to be honest about it. There was competition sniffing around his turf and offering up things he had refused her. And that made Jon feel just a bit lacking.  

Twisting the shower knobs to a near-scalding temperature, he stood under the hot spray feeling unreasonably pissed off – for something that happened a quarter of a century ago.

You're a jackass, Bongiovi.  

So he stood there, the water slowly cooling and taking the heat of his temper with it.

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

While most of her aggression had been vented by rolling out enough pie dough to supply a small bakery, there was still an edge of annoyance that Rachel couldn't let go of.  She heard Jon’s boots on the hardwood floors as he came into the kitchen, and  it was one of the only times she recalled wishing he were someplace else – at least until she was ready to deal with him.

When he stood across the kitchen island, watching and waiting for her to acknowledge him, she concentrated more intently on wielding the rolling pin until the dough was too thin to even use. Yet when she felt the heat of his presence at her side, she continued to massage that same dough as though she would be serving the President this pie crust. When he put his hand in the small of her back, she thumped the pin on the counter a little too hard but still offered him no direct response.   

“Oh.” Jon’s single disgust-coated word brushed across her cheek with its accompanying huff. “That’s the way we're gonna do this, huh? I’m gonna get the silent treatment?”

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

Unable to ignore his nerve-grating presence any longer, Rachel slowly turned to face him, her back against the sink. “So you want to play nice with me now?” She regarded him through narrowed eyes and stubbornly jutted her chin upward. “Guess what? I don’t want to play at the moment. I don’t like the way you snapped at me and this isn't the first time you've blown a gasket and been an ass.”

Arrogantly seeking to resolve things the way they always resolved them, Jon took the two small steps that would have him standing directly in front of her. His feet bracketed hers and his arms snaked around her neck with every intention of pulling her into him to, no doubt, kiss the boo-boo better.  

“Don’t,” she ordered with a deathly quiet tone, her body stiff as granite under his touch. “You can’t treat me like a second class citizen and then put your hands on me to make me forget you were a jerk.”

Jon was over his little snit and ready to resume the thus-far peaceful California existence he’d enjoyed with his girl. He could tell she wasn't really mad, per se…  She was just annoyed. She’d been more than annoyed with him in the past. He'd always managed to charm his way out of the dog house and today would be no different.  

“I did NOT treat you like a second class citizen but I may be guilty of the ‘jerk’ charge.” He playfully cinched his arms and gave her his best come-hither smirk. "I’m sorry. Now c’mere and give me a kiss.”

“I don't WANT to kiss you.”

Her half-assed attempt to break free from his embrace was kind of cute but completely useless. It only served to amuse him and Jon squeezed her tighter as he chuckled quietly down into her face. “Yes you do. Now, c'mere. I may be an ass, but I’m YOUR ass.”

“That remains to be seen. I don't have to keep you, you know.”

The charm was slowly oozing from his pores into hers. He could feel her relax and knew he was making progress. Surely a little grinding into her would complete the transformation, right? It didn’t ‘complete’ the transformation but he counted it a victory that she didn't knee him in the nuts.

“You worked so hard to get me, you wouldn't let me go THAT easily would you?”

“I didn’t work to get you, you moron. I might not have been able to resist you but I didn't try to catch you.”

Jon ignored the jabbing finger that dug into his ribs and bent to nuzzle into her neck. “And now look at you,” he cooed in his best Rachel Whisperer voice. “…..all in love with me and shit.”

“Yeah, at least ONE of us is in love….”

“Hey. You know I love you.”

“You can’t tell me you love me Jon and then lose your temper and act like I’ve been somehow seedy in another life because I had a boyfriend or two before you sauntered into my world!”

He could almost see the charm dissolve in the air between them, his secret weapon becoming nothing more than air. He was done being mad and had honestly expected Rachel to accept his non-madness by falling back into doe-eyed-mode. Why the hell wouldn't she just cooperate before he lost his cool? Again.  

“I said I was sorry….I AM sorry. Can we just move on now?”

“Saying ‘sorry’ doesn't undo the things one has already said….”

Stiffening, he backed off from her and resumed his earlier position propped against the kitchen island. With arms crossed and a cantankerous huff, he offered the explanation he'd hoped to be spared from giving. “When I overheard your phone call… You rolling around with that guy – and him talking about what a wild thing you were…  I got a visual I didn't like, okay??? ”

“Yeah,” she guffawed, mimicking his belligerent pose. “It’s probably similar to the visual I got when your little heiress-slash-socialite told me how you liked it rough. When it comes to sleeping around, trust me Jon, I’m not even in the running. I can count on one hand the number of men I've slept with and have multiple fingers left over. YOU????”  

Her humorless laugh set his teeth on edge.  

“You Jon, would need a couple of Boeing 747’s to transport the women you've slept with… JUST DURING YOUR MARRIED YEARS.”

“You don't seem to mind the experience I've gained with those plane loads of women….which by the way, is a huge exaggeration Rachel.”

“Oh, excuse me for exaggerating the number of women you’ve actually SLEPT with….most of them probably just got to blow you before being sent on their way.”

With his playful mood now swirling in the crapper, Jon could feel the infamous ‘stink eye’ building, just itching to unleash itself. Rachel may have hit the nail on the head but talking about his backstage sexual encounters was a counter-productive detour that he just wasn’t interested in taking.   

Running a restless hand through his hair, he was proud that he managed to keep his eye in check when testily sighing; “Are you finished with your tantrum?”

“MY tantrum? You’re kidding me, right?”

Her righteous indignation went over him like nails on a chalkboard. It was time to put an end to this shit.

“ENOUGH! I've told you why I reacted the way I did and apologized for it. You want one of my balls, too?”

Unimpressed with his Italian temper as always, Rachel rolled her eyes.  “Look…I realize you're used to calling the shots – but don't get all pissy on me and then ask if I’m done with MY tantrum just because you've gotten over your little snit and want to go back to Prince Charming mode.”

“Why do girls always resort to ‘fairy tale’ shit?”  

Jon knew the minute the words slipped through his mouth it was the wrong thing to say but he was backed into a corner. Things just happened when he got forced into being on the defensive.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m all about the fairy tales, aren’t I Jon?” Throwing up her hands she walked around the opposite side of the island and into the foyer still speaking. “Somebody should’ve told Cinderella to get the hell out of there – nothing good happens after midnight, anyway.”

“Dammit Rachel! Get your ass back here!” His voice was raised only in part because he was mad. Jon could hear Rachel’s departing footsteps escaping the stairs and had bellowed after her as an act of frustrated desperation more than anything else. He followed her to the stairs and watched her deliberately and defiantly climb them one at a time, in spite of his insistence otherwise. “This is bullshit!”

“It sure is, Jon.”

“ I'm so sick of you walking off every time you get bent out of shape!”  

“Right…because it’s better to stand and fight with you.  I'll pass.”

Jon refused to follow her up the stairs like some lovesick schoolboy. Thumping his fist on the bannister, he swore bawdily enough to make a sailor take note and salute, then stalked back into the family room shaking his head every step of the way. He was almost fully inside the room before his sarcastic sonofabitch personality offered him a parting shot and he spun, thundering up at her, “ You're easier to handle when you're naked and on your back!”

Rachel’s tittering laugh and voice carried all the way from the bedroom through the kitchen and clearly  into the family room.  “Good luck getting me THERE, Hotshot!”

Still shaking his head, Jon returned to his favorite leather chair in the family room, plopping down heavily. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he replayed the whole jacked-up interaction behind closed eyelids. As pissed as he’d been – and still was – he couldn't help but wryly laugh at the spunk his girl had shown in hurling her insults.  

“747….. Now THAT’S funny. I’ve gotta remember to tell Sambora that one.”