When the amazing colours faded, they turned and continued their walk to the Watering Hole, Jon holding the door open for Sara then following her inside. The restaurant was much busier than earlier, music playing, and Sara was glad to note there was no decrease in the noise level when Jon entered. Alex was still working the bar, and he smiled when he saw them walking over.
“Evening.” He said when they reached the bar. “Do you want a table?”
With a quick glance at Sara, Jon nodded. “Thanks Alex. And can we get a diet coke and…….actually, just make it two.”
“Sure - I’ll bring them over. Take table fourteen - it’s the one over in the corner there.”
He pointed them to a secluded table, and Sara at least was grateful that he seemed to be trying to protect their privacy, not making a big deal of having the megastar visiting the restaurant. Jon escorted her to the table, seating her in the corner and sitting with his back to the room.
“Nice of Alex to put us over here - nice and private.”
“Good.” Sara reached across the table to take his hand. “I don’t feel like sharing you right now. Not even with your fans.”
Jon pulled her hand up and kissed her fingers with a smile, and they were still holding hands when Alex appeared with two glasses.
“Here you go, guys. Menus are on the table, so just shout when you’ve decided what you want.”
He walked back to the bar as Jon plucked a menu from the holder and handed it to Sara, then took one for himself, too. Sara flipped hers open, glanced at it, then closed it again, Jon looking at her in surprise.
“You know what you want?”
“Oh yeah. But I’ll settle for a cheeseburger right now.”
Jon gave a delighted grin as he took a look at his own menu, deciding to just copy Sara. On the bottom of the menu it instructed that you should make your selection, then order at the bar, so he folded the menu shut and pushed his chair back.
“I’ll be right back, darlin’. You want fries?”
“Mm-hm.” She looked up at him wickedly through her lashes. “Need to keep my strength up.”
“Hussy.” He whispered as he walked away.
Up at the bar, Alex took the order, including a couple of additional items Jon saw on the specials board. He paid and headed back to Sara, who was toying with her straw, gazing blindly down at the table, lost in her thoughts.
“Penny for them.”
“Huh? Oh, nothing - I was just dreaming.”
“About me, I hope.”
“What do you think?”
Before Jon could answer, though, his cellphone buzzed and he frowned but reached into his pocket, smiling as he read the display.
“Richie.” He told Sara, then answered the call as she smiled at him. “Hey, bro. What’s up?”
From California, Richie could hear the unmistakable sounds of a bar seeping through the phone, and he hoped Jon wasn’t somewhere alone drowning his sorrows. Didn’t sound like it, though.
“Hi Jon. I just wanted to see how things were going.”
“Things,” Jon reached out and took Sara’s hand with a grin, “are great, thanks. Better than that, actually. Things are perfect.” “Just like you.” He added in a whisper to Sara.
“So you found her, then?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jon held the phone across the table. “Say hi to Richie.”
Sara took the phone out of his hand. “Hey Richie.”
“Sara! Good to hear your voice again, girl. So has he redeemed himself? Or are you still making your mind up?”
“Oh, I think he’s forgiven.” She giggled suddenly. “And I only hit him once.”
From across the table, Jon could hear Richie roar with laughter, and he rubbed the side of his face ruefully as he remembered the slap. Sara gently stroked his cheek, where she’d hit him, and he grinned as he pressed his face against her hand.
“That makes it feel better.” He whispered.
Sara said goodbye to Richie and handed the phone back, after promising to call him once she was home. Jon took the phone and said goodbye, too, after Richie had made him explain about Sara hitting him, then he hung up just as Alex brought over two huge plates of food.
“Cheeseburgers and fries, twice.” He laid a plate in front of each of them, joking. “Glad to see you’re health conscious!”
He left them to eat, and the cheeseburgers certainly lived up to the hyperbole on the menu. They savoured the rich meat and cheese, laughing at each other as relish escaped, dripping onto the plates and trickling down Jon’s chin. Sara reached across to wipe it with her fingers and Jon caught her hand, licking it away, but stopping when he saw her look uncomfortable at him doing that in public. When they were finished, Alex reappeared to take the plates, then came back again with two mugs of coffee and a large wedge of chocolate cake, which he laid in front of Sara when Jon pointed.
“Chocolate cake?” She asked. “Aren’t you having any?”
“I was kinda hoping to share yours - figured you’d be full after the burger.”
“Oh, I always have room for chocolate cake, but I’ll let you have a little.”
They shared the cake and were just enjoying their coffee when a girl came across to the table, glancing behind her at a small group of girls who were obviously egging her on. She was carrying a magazine, folded open, and holding a pen.
“Excuse me. Are you Jon Bon Jovi?”
Jon managed to control his grimace, though Sara saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes before he turned to the girl with a slight smile.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry to intrude, but would you mind signing this for me? I’ve been a fan for years.”
“No problem. What’s your name?”
She told him, and he scrawled a short message across his own photo and signed it for her. Both Sara and Jon were shocked, though, when she turned to Sara.
“You must be Sara. Sara Holland, right?”
Sara’s mouth fell open, but no words came out, as she tried to figure out how the girl knew her name. Jon, being much more accustomed to this type of intrusion, was able to ask the question.
“What makes you say that?”
The girl flipped the magazine open, pointing to the facing page, which had a small version of one of the photos from Matt’s party, and a whole lot of photos of Sara, along with a slew of text.
“May I?”
Jon took the magazine back from her, scanning the text, which seemed to give a lot of personal detail about Sara, and a lot of the photos looked kind of old, as though they’d been taken from photo albums. He frowned as he read the byline at the end of the article, but said nothing, just passing the magazine back to the girl.
“Thank you.” He stood up and pulled Sara out of her seat.
“What…..?” She began, but he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“Babe, just come with me. I’ll tell you outside.”
He quickly led her to the door, nodding to Alex as they went, and they got outside without attracting any more attention. When they reached the sand, Jon led her to the right, away from the town, figuring that anyone who wanted to follow, to see where they were staying, would automatically turn left. Within a few steps, they were outside the flood of light from the restaurant, and basically invisible in the darkness. There was just enough light to see where they were going, and he took Sara up toward the dunes until he found a secluded spot to sit down.
“What is it?” Sara asked.
“Babe - what’s Kay’s surname?”
“Kay? Warner. Why?”
“Shit!” Jon spat. “I was afraid of that.”
“Jon, you’ve lost me. What was in the magazine? Did they have photos of your kids?”
“No, darlin’. It was photos of you. A lot of photos, and a lot of information about you, and about us.”
“Photos of me? From Matt’s party?”
“Well, yeah, there was one from there, but there were a lot that look like they came from somebody’s photo album. One of you riding a horse on a beach…..”
“I’ve only ridden on the beach once, when I was on vacation with……… Oh no! She wouldn’t………she didn’t………. Kay?”
“The byline said K Warner. The piece gave quite a bit of detail on you, Sara.”
“And about us? Damn her - all the things I told her when she came to apologise? Or pretend to apologise. Has she used all the stuff I told her in confidence, as a friend?”
“I think so, baby. Hell, I’m not ashamed of being with you, and the kids know - well, Steph does, and she’s probably told the boys - but it’s not how I wanted people finding out. I know you like your privacy, and I wanted to keep the press away from you, if that was what you wanted. Shit. I’m sorry, Sara.”
Sara’s mind was racing, but the overriding thought that kept coming through, strangely enough, wasn’t the feeling of betrayal, although it was certainly there. All she kept thinking was how much she loved Jon, and she reached a decision, fumbling in the dark to take his hand.
“You made me leave my coffee behind.” She told him, confusing Jon with the strange comment. “Come on.”
She stood up and pulled him to his feet, leading the way back toward the Watering Hole. Jon tugged on her hand, stopping her again, and she turned to face him, the light from behind throwing her face into shadow.
“Baby?”
Stepping forward, Sara touched Jon’s cheek.
“You said you’re not ashamed of me, didn’t you?”
“I said I’m not ashamed of being with you, but there’s no way I could ever be ashamed of you.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not ashamed of you, or being with you. You said it yourself, when you invited me to Matt’s party - the best way to deal with this is to face it head on. So let’s do it. Let’s go back into the bar.” She grinned in the dark. “To put it as politely as I can, fuck Kay and her games. I love you, Jon, and that’s all I care about right now.” Sara felt suddenly unsure. “I mean, if you want to go back in.”
In answer, Jon grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him for a long, wet kiss, then released her.
“You amaze me sometimes, Sara, you really do. I’m with you - let’s go. Anyway,” she saw the shine of his teeth in the light as he smiled, “you said ‘fuck’ again, you bad girl, and you know I can’t resist you when you say that.”
Jon took her hand firmly in his, lacing his fingers through hers, and they re-entered the restaurant, going up to the end of the bar. Alex came right across to them, looking slightly concerned.
“Is everything okay? I saw you leave in kind of a hurry.”
“Fine, thanks, Alex. We just, well, there was some stuff in a magazine somebody had, and we just had to discuss it for a second.” Jon answered him. “Can we get a couple more coffees?”
“Sure. Cappuccino, latte, mocha……”
“Just regular coffee.” Jon replied.
“Strong.” Sara added with a grin.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Chapter 81
As she straightened again, Jon rose onto his knees behind her, taking the hairdryer out of her hand.
“Let me.” He said, and Sara smiled as he tipped her head forward, running his fingers through her hair as he switched the dryer on again.
She leaned back against his warm chest as he slowly dried her hair, occasionally dropping an unexpected kiss onto her neck, making her shiver pleasantly. Her hair was long enough that it trailed onto the bed, and once he was happy it was dry, Jon turned the dryer off and combed his hands through her hair.
“There you go, darlin’.” He sat back on his heels, but Sara didn’t move.
“You stopped.” She murmured drowsily, then sighed deeply.
Jon leaned further back as Sara snapped her head up, flipping her hair down her back in a fluffy mane. Her face was pink from the heat of the dryer, her eyes soft as she looked at him.
“That was nice. I like you playing with my hair.”
Grinning, Jon slid a hand around her waist, down to the soft curls.
“I know you do.”
Sara giggled and caught his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
“Food first. I haven’t eaten since breakfast!”
“You had brownies, remember.”
“Well, yeah, but that was just a snack. I need real food.”
“What do you want, then?” Jon released her as he moved to the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know, ummm……….oh, yes I do! Cheeseburger! Cheeseburger and fries!”
“Sounds good to me. Gimme five minutes to take a shower.” He headed toward the bathroom, then stopped. “Any idea where we can get cheeseburgers here? Downstairs in the pub, maybe?”
“Maybe - or the Watering Hole. I know they do them.”
“You just want to see your toyboy again, donchya?!”
With that comment, Jon dived into the bathroom, laughing as he heard Sara say she was adding that to her list. When he emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, he found Sara lying on the bed reading, clad in only her underwear. Hot pink this time. He looked at her for a long moment, rubbing his thumbnail against his lower lip, before he spoke.
“Babe - if you want to go eat, I suggest you put some clothes on. Or you could just take off what you’ve got on, and we’ll go back to bed.”
“Oh, sorry - I was getting ready, but I picked up my book and, well, I guess I got distracted.”
She closed the book and stood up, hearing the faintest of growls from Jon as he looked at her.
“You look good in that colour.”
“Thanks. I love pink. Pink and black - my favourite colours. And red. I like red.”
Jon had a sudden flash of her in that deep red dress, and he grinned.
“I like you in red, too. I prefer you in nothing, though.”
Sara chuckled deep in her throat, stepping close to him and whispering in his ear.
“Know what I prefer you in?”
“What?”
“Me.” She breathed.
“That can be arranged, baby.”
That throaty laugh again as her teeth nipped his ear. “Food first. Then we can have dessert.”
“Tease.” He told her, but he was hungry, too, and he bent to pick up his bag, finding yet another clean shirt.
They dressed quickly, both in jeans and t shirts, and for a change Sara’s was plain, a hot pink that matched her underwear. She picked up her sandals, about to put them on, then stopped, turning to Jon.
“Do you mind getting your feet wet?”
“Strange question, but no, I don’t.”
“There’s a quicker way to the beach, without crossing the parking lot, but you need to cross a stream. I’ll just carry my sandals - guess I’ll need them at the restaurant.”
Following her lead, Jon picked up his running shoes, holding them by the laces and sliding his cellphone into the pocket of his jeans.
“In that case, I’m ready when you are, babe.”
Sara grabbed her bag and they left, heading downstairs barefoot. The receptionist was back now, and Jon went on outside while Sara stopped to explain that her boyfriend had come over to surprise her, and that he’d be staying a couple of nights. The girl took a note of the extra person for breakfast, but she hadn’t actually looked at Jon, just registering a blond guy standing outside.
Outside, Sara led Jon along to the stairs, laughing at his muttered curses as he stepped on sharp stones on the path. When they reached the end of the path, at the little gate, he stood for a moment gazing out along the beach.
“It really is beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“Even more so now you’re here with me.” Sara told him, and he took her hand with a smile, squeezing her fingers.
The rain had stopped and the clouds had thinned, the sun brightening the beach with it’s last power as it headed to the horizon. At the bottom of the steps, they rolled their jeans to their knees, then walked hand-in-hand to the stream. Sara had crossed it before, so she knew what to expect, but Jon swore when he took his first step into the chilly water, stopping dead.
“Fuck, that’s cold!” He looked at her. “And you thought you could go surfing here?!”
“I was actually going to look into that tomorrow. It’s not that cold - the sea’s warmer than this is.” She giggled. “Technically, I guess it’s the same water as at home. It’s all the Atlantic Ocean.”
“What? You trying to convince me it’s as warm here as it is in East Hampton?”
“I don’t know - I’ve never been there.”
“I’ll take you, when you’re home again.” Jon promised. “Now, can we move before my feet freeze off?”
“Hey - you’re the wuss that stopped.” Sara pulled him onward, turning to face him, mischievously flicking a foot in the water so the cold drops splattered higher on his legs.
“Start a water fight and I’ll throw you in the sea!” He warned her, and she laughed.
“Let’s eat, first, then we can go swimming!”
“You’re mad. You’re completely certifiable! No way I’m swimming in water this cold!”
“Okay. Guess I’ll be skinny dipping alone then.”
“You’ll get yourself arrested.” He warned her, but Sara shook her head.
“I’m sure I saw some big rock pools along the cliffs. Nobody can see those. Especially at night.”
Now she had Jon’s interest, and the conversation had kept his mind off the cold water while they crossed, since they were now walking on dry sand. Jon turned toward the Watering Hole, but Sara pulled him the opposite way, heading toward a huge rock down close to the surf.
“You’re going the wrong way, Sara.”
“I want to see what’s up here. There’s supposed to be a pool in the rock.”
“A rock pool in a rock? How unusual.” He teased, and she stuck out her tongue.
“No, an actual swimming pool. Built into the rock.”
“Really?”
Jon was intrigued now, and they went to the rock, walking round to the seaward side. Sure enough, they could see the concrete edge of something, and Sara climbed up onto a low rock.
“It is a swimming pool. Kinda full of seaweed, but it’s a swimming pool.”
She let go of Jon’s hand as she climbed a little higher, trying to avoid the slick, slippery areas without slicing her feet apart on the mussel shells clustered on the rocks. Jon shook his head as she climbed up barefoot, but he followed her up to the edge of the pool. It was certainly a swimming pool, and from the amount of sand and weed, he guessed it got refreshed every time the tide came in. Sara kicked a loose pebble into the water, watching as it fell slowly to the bottom.
“It’s deep.” She said wonderingly. “I don’t know I fancy swimming in there, though.”
“Why not? Too cold for you?”
“No, not that, just, well, there’ll be things living in there. Fish and stuff.”
“They live in the sea, too.” Jon pointed out.
“I know, but - oh, I don’t know - just don’t like the idea of swimming and a fish or something sneaking up on me!”
“Hell, baby, if you go skinny dipping, it’s not the fish you need to worry about sneaking up on you.”
“And what exactly do I need to worry about?” She teased, giggling as he caught her about the waist and pulled her close.
“Me.”
Standing on the edge of the pool, they kissed, until Sara’s tummy rather ruined the romance by grumbling loudly.
“Okay, I’ll feed you.” Jon surrendered. “If we can get down from here.”
As usual, it was more difficult to climb back down on the slippery rocks, but they managed it without incident, stepping gratefully back onto the wet sand. They were just in time, as they discovered the tide had been creeping in while they contemplated the pool, forcing them to wade around the projecting point of the rock to get back to the main beach. Jon slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked up to the Watering Hole, and Sara turned to look at him, then stopped.
“Oh, look, Jon.”
She pointed out to sea, and he turned, seeing the last rays of the sun had turned the sea to bronze, and the sky a deep, dusky pink, making the few clouds appear blue in contrast.
“Wow.” He hugged her closer as they gazed at nature’s spectacle. “Now that’s what you call a sunset, isn’t it? Beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.”
For once, she didn’t demur, just reached up to kiss his cheek in silent acknowledgement, then standing cuddled against him, her left hand in the back pocket of his jeans as he held her close.
“Let me.” He said, and Sara smiled as he tipped her head forward, running his fingers through her hair as he switched the dryer on again.
She leaned back against his warm chest as he slowly dried her hair, occasionally dropping an unexpected kiss onto her neck, making her shiver pleasantly. Her hair was long enough that it trailed onto the bed, and once he was happy it was dry, Jon turned the dryer off and combed his hands through her hair.
“There you go, darlin’.” He sat back on his heels, but Sara didn’t move.
“You stopped.” She murmured drowsily, then sighed deeply.
Jon leaned further back as Sara snapped her head up, flipping her hair down her back in a fluffy mane. Her face was pink from the heat of the dryer, her eyes soft as she looked at him.
“That was nice. I like you playing with my hair.”
Grinning, Jon slid a hand around her waist, down to the soft curls.
“I know you do.”
Sara giggled and caught his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
“Food first. I haven’t eaten since breakfast!”
“You had brownies, remember.”
“Well, yeah, but that was just a snack. I need real food.”
“What do you want, then?” Jon released her as he moved to the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know, ummm……….oh, yes I do! Cheeseburger! Cheeseburger and fries!”
“Sounds good to me. Gimme five minutes to take a shower.” He headed toward the bathroom, then stopped. “Any idea where we can get cheeseburgers here? Downstairs in the pub, maybe?”
“Maybe - or the Watering Hole. I know they do them.”
“You just want to see your toyboy again, donchya?!”
With that comment, Jon dived into the bathroom, laughing as he heard Sara say she was adding that to her list. When he emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, he found Sara lying on the bed reading, clad in only her underwear. Hot pink this time. He looked at her for a long moment, rubbing his thumbnail against his lower lip, before he spoke.
“Babe - if you want to go eat, I suggest you put some clothes on. Or you could just take off what you’ve got on, and we’ll go back to bed.”
“Oh, sorry - I was getting ready, but I picked up my book and, well, I guess I got distracted.”
She closed the book and stood up, hearing the faintest of growls from Jon as he looked at her.
“You look good in that colour.”
“Thanks. I love pink. Pink and black - my favourite colours. And red. I like red.”
Jon had a sudden flash of her in that deep red dress, and he grinned.
“I like you in red, too. I prefer you in nothing, though.”
Sara chuckled deep in her throat, stepping close to him and whispering in his ear.
“Know what I prefer you in?”
“What?”
“Me.” She breathed.
“That can be arranged, baby.”
That throaty laugh again as her teeth nipped his ear. “Food first. Then we can have dessert.”
“Tease.” He told her, but he was hungry, too, and he bent to pick up his bag, finding yet another clean shirt.
They dressed quickly, both in jeans and t shirts, and for a change Sara’s was plain, a hot pink that matched her underwear. She picked up her sandals, about to put them on, then stopped, turning to Jon.
“Do you mind getting your feet wet?”
“Strange question, but no, I don’t.”
“There’s a quicker way to the beach, without crossing the parking lot, but you need to cross a stream. I’ll just carry my sandals - guess I’ll need them at the restaurant.”
Following her lead, Jon picked up his running shoes, holding them by the laces and sliding his cellphone into the pocket of his jeans.
“In that case, I’m ready when you are, babe.”
Sara grabbed her bag and they left, heading downstairs barefoot. The receptionist was back now, and Jon went on outside while Sara stopped to explain that her boyfriend had come over to surprise her, and that he’d be staying a couple of nights. The girl took a note of the extra person for breakfast, but she hadn’t actually looked at Jon, just registering a blond guy standing outside.
Outside, Sara led Jon along to the stairs, laughing at his muttered curses as he stepped on sharp stones on the path. When they reached the end of the path, at the little gate, he stood for a moment gazing out along the beach.
“It really is beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“Even more so now you’re here with me.” Sara told him, and he took her hand with a smile, squeezing her fingers.
The rain had stopped and the clouds had thinned, the sun brightening the beach with it’s last power as it headed to the horizon. At the bottom of the steps, they rolled their jeans to their knees, then walked hand-in-hand to the stream. Sara had crossed it before, so she knew what to expect, but Jon swore when he took his first step into the chilly water, stopping dead.
“Fuck, that’s cold!” He looked at her. “And you thought you could go surfing here?!”
“I was actually going to look into that tomorrow. It’s not that cold - the sea’s warmer than this is.” She giggled. “Technically, I guess it’s the same water as at home. It’s all the Atlantic Ocean.”
“What? You trying to convince me it’s as warm here as it is in East Hampton?”
“I don’t know - I’ve never been there.”
“I’ll take you, when you’re home again.” Jon promised. “Now, can we move before my feet freeze off?”
“Hey - you’re the wuss that stopped.” Sara pulled him onward, turning to face him, mischievously flicking a foot in the water so the cold drops splattered higher on his legs.
“Start a water fight and I’ll throw you in the sea!” He warned her, and she laughed.
“Let’s eat, first, then we can go swimming!”
“You’re mad. You’re completely certifiable! No way I’m swimming in water this cold!”
“Okay. Guess I’ll be skinny dipping alone then.”
“You’ll get yourself arrested.” He warned her, but Sara shook her head.
“I’m sure I saw some big rock pools along the cliffs. Nobody can see those. Especially at night.”
Now she had Jon’s interest, and the conversation had kept his mind off the cold water while they crossed, since they were now walking on dry sand. Jon turned toward the Watering Hole, but Sara pulled him the opposite way, heading toward a huge rock down close to the surf.
“You’re going the wrong way, Sara.”
“I want to see what’s up here. There’s supposed to be a pool in the rock.”
“A rock pool in a rock? How unusual.” He teased, and she stuck out her tongue.
“No, an actual swimming pool. Built into the rock.”
“Really?”
Jon was intrigued now, and they went to the rock, walking round to the seaward side. Sure enough, they could see the concrete edge of something, and Sara climbed up onto a low rock.
“It is a swimming pool. Kinda full of seaweed, but it’s a swimming pool.”
She let go of Jon’s hand as she climbed a little higher, trying to avoid the slick, slippery areas without slicing her feet apart on the mussel shells clustered on the rocks. Jon shook his head as she climbed up barefoot, but he followed her up to the edge of the pool. It was certainly a swimming pool, and from the amount of sand and weed, he guessed it got refreshed every time the tide came in. Sara kicked a loose pebble into the water, watching as it fell slowly to the bottom.
“It’s deep.” She said wonderingly. “I don’t know I fancy swimming in there, though.”
“Why not? Too cold for you?”
“No, not that, just, well, there’ll be things living in there. Fish and stuff.”
“They live in the sea, too.” Jon pointed out.
“I know, but - oh, I don’t know - just don’t like the idea of swimming and a fish or something sneaking up on me!”
“Hell, baby, if you go skinny dipping, it’s not the fish you need to worry about sneaking up on you.”
“And what exactly do I need to worry about?” She teased, giggling as he caught her about the waist and pulled her close.
“Me.”
Standing on the edge of the pool, they kissed, until Sara’s tummy rather ruined the romance by grumbling loudly.
“Okay, I’ll feed you.” Jon surrendered. “If we can get down from here.”
As usual, it was more difficult to climb back down on the slippery rocks, but they managed it without incident, stepping gratefully back onto the wet sand. They were just in time, as they discovered the tide had been creeping in while they contemplated the pool, forcing them to wade around the projecting point of the rock to get back to the main beach. Jon slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked up to the Watering Hole, and Sara turned to look at him, then stopped.
“Oh, look, Jon.”
She pointed out to sea, and he turned, seeing the last rays of the sun had turned the sea to bronze, and the sky a deep, dusky pink, making the few clouds appear blue in contrast.
“Wow.” He hugged her closer as they gazed at nature’s spectacle. “Now that’s what you call a sunset, isn’t it? Beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.”
For once, she didn’t demur, just reached up to kiss his cheek in silent acknowledgement, then standing cuddled against him, her left hand in the back pocket of his jeans as he held her close.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Chapter 80
While Sara giggled, Jon dragged himself away from her, standing up to pull a towel from the rack and holding it as she stood up, still coated in bubbles.
“You look like a mermaid.” He grinned as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “Okay - out you get.”
Sara stepped out onto the soft rug and Jon used another towel to rub her hair, getting rid of the worst of the water and bubbles before smoothing it back from her face as she looked silently up at him. She bent slowly, drying off her legs and body, then dropped the towel on the floor and took Jon’s hand, turning it over curiously, her fingernail scraping gently against the hard callouses on his fingertips. Her fingers ran down into his palm, feeling the thickened skin at the base of his fingers from decades of gripping guitars.
“I can feel these, when you touch me.” She said softly, her eyes concentrated on his hand. “They’re rough, hard, yet the rest of your hands is so soft.”
“Do I hurt you?” Jon asked, not really sure where she was going with this.
“No. That’s not what I mean.” She looked up for a moment, searching for a comparison. “It’s like…….like suede and denim. Neither of them is rough, but they feel different on your skin. Just a different texture I guess. Maybe I’ve got more of a sensual streak than I thought.” She looked down again. “It’s strange - I never liked people touching me, not even when I was a child. I was never a touchy-feely kid. My parents were about the only ones I’d hug.”
Jon brought his free hand onto the curve of her hip.
“Do you like when I touch you?”
“You know I do.” Sara whispered, gazing trustingly up into his eyes. “But it’s different with you. It’s not even that I don’t mind you touching me. I, well, I crave it. I love the feel of your hands, your mouth, your…….everything.”
Freeing his left hand from hers, Jon laid it on her other hip, drawing his fingertips slowly up her back, watching her close her eyes with a smile at the touch, the hard-and-soft sensation. Sara sighed and brought her hands around onto Jon’s back, tugging his shirt up to get her fingers against his skin. As his hands pulled her close, she could feel the soft cotton of his t shirt against her breasts, the coarser denim against her thighs and, in between, the very definite proof that he’d missed her as the hardening lump in his jeans pressed against her.
“Why is it I’m naked, but you’re still fully dressed?” She asked him quietly, pushing his shirt higher until Jon took the hint and let go of her to pull it over his head.
Flipping it over Sara’s head, he brought the still-warm t shirt down behind her, using it to draw her even closer as he grinned down at her.
“Is that better?”
“It’s a start.” She smiled. “It’s nice and warm, too. Just like you.”
Sara nuzzled her nose into the soft fur on his chest, inhaling deeply of his familiar smell. Jon stooped slightly and picked her up in his arms like a child, the t shirt falling to the floor.
“Come on.” He said, carrying her through to the bedroom as Sara buried her face in his neck, her arms hugging him tightly.
When they got to the bed, Sara stretched down one hand to flick the covers back, then Jon tenderly laid her on the mattress, just standing looking down at her until Sara reached out to catch the waist of his jeans, her fingertips inside the denim, brushing against the coarse curls.
“Stop making me wait. Get in here.”
“Get in where?” Jon teased her as he unbuttoned his jeans, and Sara looked up at him slyly.
“Where do you think I want you?”
“Hopefully right where I want to be.” He said as he shucked his jeans to the floor, already barefoot from when he’d changed jeans earlier.
Sara moved across a little, making room for Jon, and he lay down beside her, staring into her eyes. He gently pushed her hair back from her face, smiling, and she watched his smile twist just a tiny bit as her fingers trailed across his flank, over the pair of freckles at his side, and down to his groin. She stroked her hand along his hard length as Jon kissed her, first her lips, then tracing his lips along her cheekbone, nibbling at the top of her ear.
“I love you.” He whispered in her ear, then licked her earlobe, pulling it into his mouth for a moment.
He worked slowly down her throat, down to that spot she loved, licking at the base of her throat and hearing her moan, but he kept moving lower, tugging on an already hard nipple with his lips then sucking the tip into his mouth. He was too low now for Sara to reach his cock, and she ran her fingers into his hair, gasping as his hand slipped stealthily up her thigh, seeking out her heat. Her legs parted instinctively as his fingers touched her, pressing lightly against her clit before one finger slid slowly and deeply inside her. She moaned again, a low, guttural sound, then again as a second finger entered her and his thumb began to circle around her clit.
“Kiss me.” She murmured, and Jon immediately raised his head, his fingers pushing even deeper as he moved up to her mouth.
As his tongue invaded her mouth, Sara could taste the chocolate he’d been drinking, mingled with the bitter tang of the bubble bath from his mouth on her skin. His thumb was driving her higher, but she wanted - she needed - more from him, and she broke the kiss to whisper to him again.
“Make love to me, Jon. I want to feel you inside me. I need to feel you.”
Moving his hand away, Jon tipped her onto her back, shifting to lie between her thighs now and kissing her again as he achingly slowly pushed into her. There were no wild gymnastics - that wasn’t what either of them needed right now - just a slow and tender loving, caressing each other’s skin as their mouths joined again, Jon’s hips grinding rhythmically against Sara until he felt her cumming, feeling her heart pounding against the hand he had on her breast.
He slowed his movements, letting her come back down from the orgasm, not even close yet himself, then he slid down her body, kissing his way down to her pussy, licking at the juices she gave to him. As Sara moaned, one hand in his hair, the other covering her own mouth, Jon thrust his tongue into her, then dragged up, curling it around her clit, his teeth nipping at her as he sucked on the sensitive bud. He alternated between the thrusting of his tongue and that teasing sucking until he heard her cry, muffled by her hand, as she came again, and he could feel her fingers spasm against his head, pulling unintentionally at his hair.
He waited again until the storm passed, feeling her relax under him, and the death grip on his hair eased, then he crawled up her body again, her brown eyes watching his every move.
“I love you.” He said again just as his lips touched hers, and he felt her smile.
As they kissed, Jon eased his hands under her waist, sliding them down onto her buttocks, cradling her as he eased into her again, feeling her so wet now, so hot for him that he could hardly bear it. He tried to keep moving slowly, but Sara pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss so she could whisper to him.
“Please, Jon. Cum inside me. I want to feel you cum, baby.”
He grinned crookedly down at her, knowing she was ready to cum again, to cum with him this time, and he drove into her harder now, feeling the familiar tension in his lower belly. Quickly, he pulled his hands from beneath her, lacing his fingers into hers and bringing their hands above Sara’s head, and he felt her knees coming up to lock around him, letting him penetrate even deeper into her with every thrust.
Sara came again, he felt her squeezing tighter around his cock, and it was enough to make him cum, too, breathlessly crying her name as he climaxed. As his forehead dropped onto the pillow beside Sara, he heard her soft voice close to his ear.
“I do love you, Jon.”
He couldn’t speak, but raised his head and Sara saw that sparkling grin, that grin that made her smile back involuntarily. Jon rolled onto his side, and she went with him, unwilling to let him leave her so soon, and they snuggled wordlessly together, arms around each other, Sara with one leg still hooked high on Jon’s hip, his cock still inside her.
They dozed like that, until they could feel the chill in the air as the sun sank toward the horizon and the evening breeze began to flutter the closed curtains. Sara pushed the tousled blond hair back from Jon’s face, looking into his bright eyes, so close to hers.
“I’m glad we made up.” She smiled at him, and Jon grinned.
“I haven’t finished apologising yet, girl.”
“Oh, good.” Sara gave him a soft kiss. “Can we eat first, though? You make me hungry.”
“You make me hungry, too, babe, just not for food, but we gotta keep your strength up for later.”
Sara giggled as she rolled away from Jon, slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Moments later, Jon could hear the shower running, but he left her in peace, just lying back on the mattress, smiling silently as he thought of Sara, and how it looked like maybe they’d be okay after all. He was still lying there staring at the ceiling when Sara came back, a towel around her freshly washed hair. She smiled at him then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror, pulling the towel from her head and reaching for the hairdryer.
Jon rolled onto his side close behind her, propping his head on one hand while he watched her in the mirror, and Sara smiled at him as she became aware of his scrutiny.
“Peeping tom.” She told him, and he grinned lazily.
“Yeah, that’s me, but I could lie here all day watching you. God, I missed you.”
Switching off the hairdryer, Sara twisted around to kiss his lips.
“I missed you too.”
“You look like a mermaid.” He grinned as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “Okay - out you get.”
Sara stepped out onto the soft rug and Jon used another towel to rub her hair, getting rid of the worst of the water and bubbles before smoothing it back from her face as she looked silently up at him. She bent slowly, drying off her legs and body, then dropped the towel on the floor and took Jon’s hand, turning it over curiously, her fingernail scraping gently against the hard callouses on his fingertips. Her fingers ran down into his palm, feeling the thickened skin at the base of his fingers from decades of gripping guitars.
“I can feel these, when you touch me.” She said softly, her eyes concentrated on his hand. “They’re rough, hard, yet the rest of your hands is so soft.”
“Do I hurt you?” Jon asked, not really sure where she was going with this.
“No. That’s not what I mean.” She looked up for a moment, searching for a comparison. “It’s like…….like suede and denim. Neither of them is rough, but they feel different on your skin. Just a different texture I guess. Maybe I’ve got more of a sensual streak than I thought.” She looked down again. “It’s strange - I never liked people touching me, not even when I was a child. I was never a touchy-feely kid. My parents were about the only ones I’d hug.”
Jon brought his free hand onto the curve of her hip.
“Do you like when I touch you?”
“You know I do.” Sara whispered, gazing trustingly up into his eyes. “But it’s different with you. It’s not even that I don’t mind you touching me. I, well, I crave it. I love the feel of your hands, your mouth, your…….everything.”
Freeing his left hand from hers, Jon laid it on her other hip, drawing his fingertips slowly up her back, watching her close her eyes with a smile at the touch, the hard-and-soft sensation. Sara sighed and brought her hands around onto Jon’s back, tugging his shirt up to get her fingers against his skin. As his hands pulled her close, she could feel the soft cotton of his t shirt against her breasts, the coarser denim against her thighs and, in between, the very definite proof that he’d missed her as the hardening lump in his jeans pressed against her.
“Why is it I’m naked, but you’re still fully dressed?” She asked him quietly, pushing his shirt higher until Jon took the hint and let go of her to pull it over his head.
Flipping it over Sara’s head, he brought the still-warm t shirt down behind her, using it to draw her even closer as he grinned down at her.
“Is that better?”
“It’s a start.” She smiled. “It’s nice and warm, too. Just like you.”
Sara nuzzled her nose into the soft fur on his chest, inhaling deeply of his familiar smell. Jon stooped slightly and picked her up in his arms like a child, the t shirt falling to the floor.
“Come on.” He said, carrying her through to the bedroom as Sara buried her face in his neck, her arms hugging him tightly.
When they got to the bed, Sara stretched down one hand to flick the covers back, then Jon tenderly laid her on the mattress, just standing looking down at her until Sara reached out to catch the waist of his jeans, her fingertips inside the denim, brushing against the coarse curls.
“Stop making me wait. Get in here.”
“Get in where?” Jon teased her as he unbuttoned his jeans, and Sara looked up at him slyly.
“Where do you think I want you?”
“Hopefully right where I want to be.” He said as he shucked his jeans to the floor, already barefoot from when he’d changed jeans earlier.
Sara moved across a little, making room for Jon, and he lay down beside her, staring into her eyes. He gently pushed her hair back from her face, smiling, and she watched his smile twist just a tiny bit as her fingers trailed across his flank, over the pair of freckles at his side, and down to his groin. She stroked her hand along his hard length as Jon kissed her, first her lips, then tracing his lips along her cheekbone, nibbling at the top of her ear.
“I love you.” He whispered in her ear, then licked her earlobe, pulling it into his mouth for a moment.
He worked slowly down her throat, down to that spot she loved, licking at the base of her throat and hearing her moan, but he kept moving lower, tugging on an already hard nipple with his lips then sucking the tip into his mouth. He was too low now for Sara to reach his cock, and she ran her fingers into his hair, gasping as his hand slipped stealthily up her thigh, seeking out her heat. Her legs parted instinctively as his fingers touched her, pressing lightly against her clit before one finger slid slowly and deeply inside her. She moaned again, a low, guttural sound, then again as a second finger entered her and his thumb began to circle around her clit.
“Kiss me.” She murmured, and Jon immediately raised his head, his fingers pushing even deeper as he moved up to her mouth.
As his tongue invaded her mouth, Sara could taste the chocolate he’d been drinking, mingled with the bitter tang of the bubble bath from his mouth on her skin. His thumb was driving her higher, but she wanted - she needed - more from him, and she broke the kiss to whisper to him again.
“Make love to me, Jon. I want to feel you inside me. I need to feel you.”
Moving his hand away, Jon tipped her onto her back, shifting to lie between her thighs now and kissing her again as he achingly slowly pushed into her. There were no wild gymnastics - that wasn’t what either of them needed right now - just a slow and tender loving, caressing each other’s skin as their mouths joined again, Jon’s hips grinding rhythmically against Sara until he felt her cumming, feeling her heart pounding against the hand he had on her breast.
He slowed his movements, letting her come back down from the orgasm, not even close yet himself, then he slid down her body, kissing his way down to her pussy, licking at the juices she gave to him. As Sara moaned, one hand in his hair, the other covering her own mouth, Jon thrust his tongue into her, then dragged up, curling it around her clit, his teeth nipping at her as he sucked on the sensitive bud. He alternated between the thrusting of his tongue and that teasing sucking until he heard her cry, muffled by her hand, as she came again, and he could feel her fingers spasm against his head, pulling unintentionally at his hair.
He waited again until the storm passed, feeling her relax under him, and the death grip on his hair eased, then he crawled up her body again, her brown eyes watching his every move.
“I love you.” He said again just as his lips touched hers, and he felt her smile.
As they kissed, Jon eased his hands under her waist, sliding them down onto her buttocks, cradling her as he eased into her again, feeling her so wet now, so hot for him that he could hardly bear it. He tried to keep moving slowly, but Sara pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss so she could whisper to him.
“Please, Jon. Cum inside me. I want to feel you cum, baby.”
He grinned crookedly down at her, knowing she was ready to cum again, to cum with him this time, and he drove into her harder now, feeling the familiar tension in his lower belly. Quickly, he pulled his hands from beneath her, lacing his fingers into hers and bringing their hands above Sara’s head, and he felt her knees coming up to lock around him, letting him penetrate even deeper into her with every thrust.
Sara came again, he felt her squeezing tighter around his cock, and it was enough to make him cum, too, breathlessly crying her name as he climaxed. As his forehead dropped onto the pillow beside Sara, he heard her soft voice close to his ear.
“I do love you, Jon.”
He couldn’t speak, but raised his head and Sara saw that sparkling grin, that grin that made her smile back involuntarily. Jon rolled onto his side, and she went with him, unwilling to let him leave her so soon, and they snuggled wordlessly together, arms around each other, Sara with one leg still hooked high on Jon’s hip, his cock still inside her.
They dozed like that, until they could feel the chill in the air as the sun sank toward the horizon and the evening breeze began to flutter the closed curtains. Sara pushed the tousled blond hair back from Jon’s face, looking into his bright eyes, so close to hers.
“I’m glad we made up.” She smiled at him, and Jon grinned.
“I haven’t finished apologising yet, girl.”
“Oh, good.” Sara gave him a soft kiss. “Can we eat first, though? You make me hungry.”
“You make me hungry, too, babe, just not for food, but we gotta keep your strength up for later.”
Sara giggled as she rolled away from Jon, slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. Moments later, Jon could hear the shower running, but he left her in peace, just lying back on the mattress, smiling silently as he thought of Sara, and how it looked like maybe they’d be okay after all. He was still lying there staring at the ceiling when Sara came back, a towel around her freshly washed hair. She smiled at him then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror, pulling the towel from her head and reaching for the hairdryer.
Jon rolled onto his side close behind her, propping his head on one hand while he watched her in the mirror, and Sara smiled at him as she became aware of his scrutiny.
“Peeping tom.” She told him, and he grinned lazily.
“Yeah, that’s me, but I could lie here all day watching you. God, I missed you.”
Switching off the hairdryer, Sara twisted around to kiss his lips.
“I missed you too.”
Chapter 79
They walked on toward the Watering Hole, neither of them bothered now by the rain that slicked their clothes against them. Belatedly, Jon offered Sara his baseball cap, but she just laughed.
“A bit late for that, I think.” She pointed out, then smirked at him. “But I’ll add that to the list!”
When they finally reached the bar, they entered together and Sara veered off to the left, pointing to the sign that said ‘Chicks’. Jon laughed quietly at that as he went over to the bar, looking for Alex. The young barman was serving somebody, but he spotted Jon and raised a hand, silently asking him to wait. Jon grinned and hopped up on one of the bar stools, looking out through the full-length windows as he absently removed his glasses and cap, raking a hand through his hair, damp despite the protection of his cap. He was still gazing outside when Alex came up behind him.
“Did you want your bag?”
“Yeah, thanks Alex.”
Jon took the bag and unzipped the top, pulling out the shirt he’d bought for Sara.
“I’ll be right back.” He told Alex, taking the shirt and heading for the bathrooms.
Sara was standing in front of the mirror, combing out her tangled hair as best she could with her fingers, when Jon knocked softly on the door, calling her name. There was no-one else in the bathroom, and Sara called to him to come in, still fighting the knots from her hair. Jon pushed the door open and walked in, carrying a black shirt which he held out for her to take.
Unfolding the shirt, Sara read the slogan ‘Give me the chocolate and nobody gets hurt!’. She burst into laughter as she read it.
“I love it!” She took a step forward to kiss Jon. “Thank you. I guess you know me too well, huh?”
“I don’t think it’s possible to know you too well, darlin’, but I do know how much you love your chocolate!”
“Okay - hold the door closed - make sure nobody comes in!”
Obediently, Jon leaned against the door, his eyes focused directly on Sara as she swiftly stripped off her wet t-shirt, dropping it onto the counter. She glanced at the mirror and saw Jon watching her, and she turned slowly to face him.
“Are you being a voyeur again?”
He grinned lazily. “Absolutely.”
Sara shook her head as she turned again to pick up the new shirt. “You’re incorrigible.”
Jon laughed. “Nah, babe - just horny.”
She was giggling as she pulled the shirt over her head, extremely impressed to find it was a perfect fit. Her hair was still a mess, but there wasn’t much she could do about that, except rake it back from her face.
“That’s the best I can do.” She told Jon, who grinned again as he straightened away from the door.
“You’re gorgeous. As usual.” He wagged a finger at her as she began to make a face. “Don’t do that! Just wait till Alex sees you - you’ll see I’m right - the boy’s sweet on you.”
“Stop saying that! Come on - I need coffee.”
They left the bathroom together, heading back to the bar. Alex had put Jon’s bag down behind the bar again, but he lifted it up again when he saw them. Disconcertingly, Sara did notice his face brighten when she walked in, and when she glanced at Jon she saw the beginnings of his smirk.
“Shouldn’t you put on a dry shirt, too?” She suggested, and Jon nodded.
“Yeah.”
Unlike Sara, Jon didn’t bother going to the bathroom to change, just pulling a fresh shirt from his bag then hauling the wet one off over his head.
“I knew it!” Alex exclaimed, and both Sara and Jon looked at him.
“You knew what?” Sara asked, fairly sure she knew what he meant.
“Sorry. The tattoo. You’re Jon Bon Jovi, aren’t you?”
“Last time I checked, yeah, but don’t tell anybody.” Jon joked.
“They all said I was nuts - said there’d be no reason for somebody like you to be here in Perranporth.” Alex looked at Jon curiously. “Why are you here? What possible reason could you find to come here?”
Jon laughed as he saw Alex’s eyes turn to Sara.
“The best reason in the world, Alex. You’re looking at her.”
Sara was blushing beet-red by now, and she picked up Jon’s dry shirt, throwing it at him.
“Put your shirt on, Jon. You don’t want to catch a chill, not at your age.” She grinned wickedly.
“See what I have to put up with?” Jon looked at Alex, appealing for support, but not finding any since Alex was still trying to come to terms with his being there.
Jon put on the dry shirt, his distinctive tattoos once again hidden by his sleeves.
“I guess we should take your stuff to the hotel - looks like the rain’s stopped.”
“Sure, but I thought you wanted coffee?”
“I can get some over there.”
Leaving the Watering Hole, Sara led the way back to the hotel - this time going up the beach and across the car park, avoiding the stream. There was no-one at reception, so she shrugged and headed on upstairs, Jon following close behind. Sara took a key from her bag and opened one of the bedrooms.
The room was small and pretty, in a slightly old-fashioned, country cottage style which was somehow perfectly suited to the location. Jon dropped his bag on the floor, noticing that Sara had lied - there was only one bed. She laid her bag on the deep windowsill, turning to face Jon, her voice husky and low as she tossed him the key.
“Lock the door.”
Jon obeyed with alacrity, turning the key in the lock as Sara tugged the curtains closed, casting the room into a premature twilight. Sara felt slightly awkward now, the recent difficulties playing on her mind, and Jon could see it in her face, knowing the next move had to be Sara’s. After a brief hesitation, she took a step toward him, raising one hand to his face. Jon lifted his own hand, pressing her palm against his cheek, then taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of her fingers as he looked into her eyes.
A tiny moan escaped Sara’s throat and she took a final step forward, pressing her body against Jon’s as she kissed him, drawing his tongue hungrily into her mouth. Jon slipped both hands under the back of her t-shirt, onto her velvet-soft skin, his tongue driving deeper into her mouth, groaning as his hunger for her grew.
Jon dropped one hand lower, onto her backside to pull her closer, and at the same moment he registered the wet denim against his palm, Sara shivered convulsively. Pulling back from her mouth, Jon looked at her dripping hair as Sara shivered again.
“Baby, you need to get out of those wet jeans and get warmed up. You’ll catch cold.”
“You’re wet, too.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one shivering.” He pointed out reasonably, and Sara couldn’t argue.
Stepping away, Jon ducked his head through the only doorway, looking into the bathroom.
“I’ll fill the bath for you.” He told her. “Get out of those wet jeans.”
“Yessir.” She muttered rebelliously, but did as she was told.
The bath filled quickly, and Jon was just pouring in one of the small bottles of bubble bath when Sara padded into the bathroom wearing just her new t shirt and her panties.
“Okay - you get in the bath and warm up.”
“You could warm me up instead.” She suggested.
“Oh, believe me, I certainly intend to do that, darlin’, but have your bath first. I’ll even bring you coffee.”
Another shiver gripped her, and Jon looked concerned, but Sara quickly stripped off her t shirt and underwear then stepped into the bath, gasping at the heat of the water on her chilled body. Jon left her for a few minutes, going to the bedroom to make coffee, but changing his mind when he saw the packets of hot chocolate. He changed into a pair of dry jeans while the kettle boiled, then made two drinks and took them both into the bathroom, where he handed one to Sara. As she took her first sip, Jon threw a towel down on the floor and sat on it, close to the bath, reaching out to caress Sara’s bare shoulder.
She turned to look at him with a soft smile, her wet hair dangling around her face, the ends vanishing into the bubbles. Taking another drink of her chocolate, she wrinkled her nose slightly.
“Did you put sugar in this?” She asked.
“Nah. I figured you were sweet enough.” That lazy grin which warmed her up far more than the bath. “D’you want sugar?”
“No. I want you.”
Jon smiled. “Jesus. I never thought I’d get to hear you say that again. I’m so sor….”
Sara put her fingers over his mouth, her swift movement sloshing the bathwater dangerously close to the edge of the tub as she twisted around.
“If you apologise again I’ll kick your ass!” She warned him, then grinned. “At least, I will if you SAY you’re sorry. You promised to SHOW me.”
Jon’s lips moved against her fingers as he smiled, his tongue snaking out to lap at her fingertips before he reached up to take her hand.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten - trust me, darlin’.”
He laid down his already empty cup and swivelled round onto his knees, pressing close against the side of the bath as he leaned forward to kiss her. Sara freed her hand, curling her fingers into the waves of damp hair at the back of his neck, losing herself in his taste and the beautiful feeling of his mouth on hers. As Jon’s hand came onto her shoulder, pulling her closer, they were disturbed by a sudden clatter as Sara’s fingers slackened their grip on her cup and it fell, spilling the remaining chocolate into the bath.
They both looked down, seeing the cup floating sadly in the water, surrounded by a spreading pool of chocolate in the water.
“Oops.” Sara said with a smile. “Maybe I’d better get out of this bath, before I end up covered with chocolate.”
Jon chuckled. “Yeah, ‘cause you know how that played out last time.”
“A bit late for that, I think.” She pointed out, then smirked at him. “But I’ll add that to the list!”
When they finally reached the bar, they entered together and Sara veered off to the left, pointing to the sign that said ‘Chicks’. Jon laughed quietly at that as he went over to the bar, looking for Alex. The young barman was serving somebody, but he spotted Jon and raised a hand, silently asking him to wait. Jon grinned and hopped up on one of the bar stools, looking out through the full-length windows as he absently removed his glasses and cap, raking a hand through his hair, damp despite the protection of his cap. He was still gazing outside when Alex came up behind him.
“Did you want your bag?”
“Yeah, thanks Alex.”
Jon took the bag and unzipped the top, pulling out the shirt he’d bought for Sara.
“I’ll be right back.” He told Alex, taking the shirt and heading for the bathrooms.
Sara was standing in front of the mirror, combing out her tangled hair as best she could with her fingers, when Jon knocked softly on the door, calling her name. There was no-one else in the bathroom, and Sara called to him to come in, still fighting the knots from her hair. Jon pushed the door open and walked in, carrying a black shirt which he held out for her to take.
Unfolding the shirt, Sara read the slogan ‘Give me the chocolate and nobody gets hurt!’. She burst into laughter as she read it.
“I love it!” She took a step forward to kiss Jon. “Thank you. I guess you know me too well, huh?”
“I don’t think it’s possible to know you too well, darlin’, but I do know how much you love your chocolate!”
“Okay - hold the door closed - make sure nobody comes in!”
Obediently, Jon leaned against the door, his eyes focused directly on Sara as she swiftly stripped off her wet t-shirt, dropping it onto the counter. She glanced at the mirror and saw Jon watching her, and she turned slowly to face him.
“Are you being a voyeur again?”
He grinned lazily. “Absolutely.”
Sara shook her head as she turned again to pick up the new shirt. “You’re incorrigible.”
Jon laughed. “Nah, babe - just horny.”
She was giggling as she pulled the shirt over her head, extremely impressed to find it was a perfect fit. Her hair was still a mess, but there wasn’t much she could do about that, except rake it back from her face.
“That’s the best I can do.” She told Jon, who grinned again as he straightened away from the door.
“You’re gorgeous. As usual.” He wagged a finger at her as she began to make a face. “Don’t do that! Just wait till Alex sees you - you’ll see I’m right - the boy’s sweet on you.”
“Stop saying that! Come on - I need coffee.”
They left the bathroom together, heading back to the bar. Alex had put Jon’s bag down behind the bar again, but he lifted it up again when he saw them. Disconcertingly, Sara did notice his face brighten when she walked in, and when she glanced at Jon she saw the beginnings of his smirk.
“Shouldn’t you put on a dry shirt, too?” She suggested, and Jon nodded.
“Yeah.”
Unlike Sara, Jon didn’t bother going to the bathroom to change, just pulling a fresh shirt from his bag then hauling the wet one off over his head.
“I knew it!” Alex exclaimed, and both Sara and Jon looked at him.
“You knew what?” Sara asked, fairly sure she knew what he meant.
“Sorry. The tattoo. You’re Jon Bon Jovi, aren’t you?”
“Last time I checked, yeah, but don’t tell anybody.” Jon joked.
“They all said I was nuts - said there’d be no reason for somebody like you to be here in Perranporth.” Alex looked at Jon curiously. “Why are you here? What possible reason could you find to come here?”
Jon laughed as he saw Alex’s eyes turn to Sara.
“The best reason in the world, Alex. You’re looking at her.”
Sara was blushing beet-red by now, and she picked up Jon’s dry shirt, throwing it at him.
“Put your shirt on, Jon. You don’t want to catch a chill, not at your age.” She grinned wickedly.
“See what I have to put up with?” Jon looked at Alex, appealing for support, but not finding any since Alex was still trying to come to terms with his being there.
Jon put on the dry shirt, his distinctive tattoos once again hidden by his sleeves.
“I guess we should take your stuff to the hotel - looks like the rain’s stopped.”
“Sure, but I thought you wanted coffee?”
“I can get some over there.”
Leaving the Watering Hole, Sara led the way back to the hotel - this time going up the beach and across the car park, avoiding the stream. There was no-one at reception, so she shrugged and headed on upstairs, Jon following close behind. Sara took a key from her bag and opened one of the bedrooms.
The room was small and pretty, in a slightly old-fashioned, country cottage style which was somehow perfectly suited to the location. Jon dropped his bag on the floor, noticing that Sara had lied - there was only one bed. She laid her bag on the deep windowsill, turning to face Jon, her voice husky and low as she tossed him the key.
“Lock the door.”
Jon obeyed with alacrity, turning the key in the lock as Sara tugged the curtains closed, casting the room into a premature twilight. Sara felt slightly awkward now, the recent difficulties playing on her mind, and Jon could see it in her face, knowing the next move had to be Sara’s. After a brief hesitation, she took a step toward him, raising one hand to his face. Jon lifted his own hand, pressing her palm against his cheek, then taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of her fingers as he looked into her eyes.
A tiny moan escaped Sara’s throat and she took a final step forward, pressing her body against Jon’s as she kissed him, drawing his tongue hungrily into her mouth. Jon slipped both hands under the back of her t-shirt, onto her velvet-soft skin, his tongue driving deeper into her mouth, groaning as his hunger for her grew.
Jon dropped one hand lower, onto her backside to pull her closer, and at the same moment he registered the wet denim against his palm, Sara shivered convulsively. Pulling back from her mouth, Jon looked at her dripping hair as Sara shivered again.
“Baby, you need to get out of those wet jeans and get warmed up. You’ll catch cold.”
“You’re wet, too.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one shivering.” He pointed out reasonably, and Sara couldn’t argue.
Stepping away, Jon ducked his head through the only doorway, looking into the bathroom.
“I’ll fill the bath for you.” He told her. “Get out of those wet jeans.”
“Yessir.” She muttered rebelliously, but did as she was told.
The bath filled quickly, and Jon was just pouring in one of the small bottles of bubble bath when Sara padded into the bathroom wearing just her new t shirt and her panties.
“Okay - you get in the bath and warm up.”
“You could warm me up instead.” She suggested.
“Oh, believe me, I certainly intend to do that, darlin’, but have your bath first. I’ll even bring you coffee.”
Another shiver gripped her, and Jon looked concerned, but Sara quickly stripped off her t shirt and underwear then stepped into the bath, gasping at the heat of the water on her chilled body. Jon left her for a few minutes, going to the bedroom to make coffee, but changing his mind when he saw the packets of hot chocolate. He changed into a pair of dry jeans while the kettle boiled, then made two drinks and took them both into the bathroom, where he handed one to Sara. As she took her first sip, Jon threw a towel down on the floor and sat on it, close to the bath, reaching out to caress Sara’s bare shoulder.
She turned to look at him with a soft smile, her wet hair dangling around her face, the ends vanishing into the bubbles. Taking another drink of her chocolate, she wrinkled her nose slightly.
“Did you put sugar in this?” She asked.
“Nah. I figured you were sweet enough.” That lazy grin which warmed her up far more than the bath. “D’you want sugar?”
“No. I want you.”
Jon smiled. “Jesus. I never thought I’d get to hear you say that again. I’m so sor….”
Sara put her fingers over his mouth, her swift movement sloshing the bathwater dangerously close to the edge of the tub as she twisted around.
“If you apologise again I’ll kick your ass!” She warned him, then grinned. “At least, I will if you SAY you’re sorry. You promised to SHOW me.”
Jon’s lips moved against her fingers as he smiled, his tongue snaking out to lap at her fingertips before he reached up to take her hand.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten - trust me, darlin’.”
He laid down his already empty cup and swivelled round onto his knees, pressing close against the side of the bath as he leaned forward to kiss her. Sara freed her hand, curling her fingers into the waves of damp hair at the back of his neck, losing herself in his taste and the beautiful feeling of his mouth on hers. As Jon’s hand came onto her shoulder, pulling her closer, they were disturbed by a sudden clatter as Sara’s fingers slackened their grip on her cup and it fell, spilling the remaining chocolate into the bath.
They both looked down, seeing the cup floating sadly in the water, surrounded by a spreading pool of chocolate in the water.
“Oops.” Sara said with a smile. “Maybe I’d better get out of this bath, before I end up covered with chocolate.”
Jon chuckled. “Yeah, ‘cause you know how that played out last time.”
Chapter 78
As they entered the restaurant, there was something of a heated debate taking place, with two of the staff arguing with Alex.
“No way, Alex! Why would somebody like that come here? You’re nuts!”
“Uh, Alex? Sorry to interrupt.” Sara said, and the argument stopped immediately as the three locals stared at Sara and Jon.
“No problem, Sara. What’s up?”
“We were going to take a walk up the cliffs, and I wondered if Jon could leave his bag here?”
“Sure. I can put it behind the bar - it’ll be safe there. Do you want to leave yours, too?”
Jon hadn’t even noticed that Sara had a small bag strapped around her waist.
“No - my camera’s in there, and I’ll probably want that. How far does that path go along the cliffs?”
“Oh, it goes for miles - it’s part of a coastal path that goes all the way around Cornwall, but you can just go across the cliffs until you come to a concrete walkway and there’s some stairs down to the beach. Go down those stairs and turn left, and you can walk all the way back along the beach to here. Probably take you about an hour at the very least. Depends how much of a hurry you’re in.”
“I’m in no hurry.” Sara said, looking at Jon. “How about you?”
“I’m all yours, babe. I don’t fly back until Thursday, so a walk sounds great. I need to loosen off a bit anyhow.”
“Okay - let’s go, then. Thanks, Alex.”
As Sara and Jon left, they heard the voices inside again, but this time they didn’t seem to be arguing with Alex.
“I think they recognised you.” Sara told Jon, who merely shrugged.
“I’m used to it, Sara. I think young Alex there has a crush on you.”
“Oh, please! I only met him yesterday!”
Jon reached over and took Sara’s hand, interlacing their fingers as they walked, and Sara moved to walk closer to him, their shoulders almost touching as they headed toward a set of partially eroded stone steps. The steps were narrow, and they had to go up in single file, Jon letting Sara walk in front of him. At the top, they came onto a sandy track, just wide enough for them to walk hand in hand again, though fronds of stiff, sharp grass whipped across their jeans, one piece opening a shallow cut on the back of Jon’s hand.
A little way along the path, they found a wooden bench, which had an engraved brass plate which said it had been placed there in memory of somebody-or-other. Slightly breathless from the deceptively steep climb, they sat down to rest, gazing out over the cliff edge to the ocean.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Sara whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence too much.
She had an impulse to lay her head on Jon’s shoulder, and she resisted the urge for a few seconds, then gave in, letting her head rest against him. Jon disentangled his fingers from hers, placing his right arm around her shoulders and taking hold of her hand with his left, still staring out to sea. For a change, he had the sense to keep his mouth firmly shut, just enjoying the closeness he thought he’d lost forever through his stupidity. After a few minutes, Sara squeezed her fingers against his, raising her head to look up at Jon with a slight smile.
“What is it, baby?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking maybe I should’ve given you a harder time about what you said, but I was just so pleased to see you. Kinda crazy, really, considering I cried myself to sleep that night. And I do tears even less than I do emotion!”
“Have I said how sorry I am?” Jon asked with a tender smile, and Sara wrinkled her nose.
“Not in the last ten minutes you haven’t. You could always show me how sorry you are.”
“I’ll prove it to you when we get to your hotel.” Jon promised. “But I can give you a down-payment now, if you’d like?”
He didn’t even wait for her to nod, just slid his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, holding her captive as he just barely touched his lips to hers, murmuring ‘I’m sorry’ before opening her mouth with his tongue, skilfully working her lips apart so he could taste the sweetness of her mouth. Jon could feel her slick tongue against his, twisting sinuously in his mouth, and her hand clenched against his as they kissed. They took their time, comfortable in the knowledge that they were alone on the clifftop. Or so they though, until there was a deep bark close by.
A large black chow-chow was watching them, tail wagging gently, and Sara automatically reached out her hand to the dog, who came over to be stroked. Resignedly, Jon also reached to pat the fluffy black coat, and the dog thumped against his leg as it moved closer. A moment later, a blonde woman appeared, and the dog abandoned them, running to her then going off down the track again. The woman nodded politely as she passed, and Jon and Sara smiled in response.
“I guess we should carry on.” Jon suggested, so they stood and continued with their walk, holding hands once again.
The views from the clifftop were spectacular, and Sara took out the small camera she had in her bag, taking a few photos. Jon took the camera out of her hands, turning it on her instead, and Sara covered her face with both hands.
“Aw, c’mon babe!” Jon cajoled her. “Just one, please? You look so pretty with the wind blowing your hair like that.”
“Yeah - so long as it’s blowing over my face.” But she did take her hands down, looking solemnly at Jon through the tangled strands.
He grinned at her as he quickly took a photo, then he stretched out a hand to flick her hair to the side, to it was blowing free behind her, no longer covering her face.
“Say ‘cheese’.” Jon instructed, then had a better idea. “No, don’t. Say ‘fuck’!”
That made her laugh, and Jon got one more photo before she reached for the camera.
“Enough.” She said, taking it from him. “Your turn.”
She took a few photos of Jon, then put the camera away as they came to a rough section of the trail, Jon’s hand steadying her, and now they could see the stairs Alex had told them about. The last part of the path was formed of roughened concrete, leading them directly to the stairs, which Sara eyed dubiously as she noted their open wooden construction.
“Do you think those are safe?”
“Yeah - they look fine to me. Come on.”
Jon dragged her to the stairs, making an exaggerated show of stamping on the first stair.
“See? Solid as a rock. C’mon scaredy cat.”
He led her down the stairs, which were much sturdier than they’d looked from a distance, and they quickly reached the soft sandy beach. Still standing on the bottom step, Sara pulled off her sandals and turned up the bottom of her jeans before stepping onto the sand. Jon was watching her with an amused smile.
“What?” Sara asked. “I hate wearing shoes on the beach - I like the feel of the sand.”
“Come on, then.”
Jon took her hand again, and they started the long walk back along the deserted beach. They hadn’t gone very far when a huge raindrop hit Sara squarely on the head, making her yelp. Jon started to ask what was wrong, then he got stung by a droplet, too. Before they could even think of where to shelter, the heavens opened, a torrential downpour that soaked them almost instantly.
“Over here!” Sara pulled Jon over to the cliffs, where she’d seen caves the previous day.
She headed into one of the deeper ones, but hesitated when she felt the pebbles and shells under her bare feet. Jon stopped beside her, looked down, then just scooped her up and carried her inside the cave, out of the rainstorm.
“And that’s why you should’ve kept your shoes on.” He told her.
“Yeah, but I had my knight in shining armour - or at least soggy denim - to look after me.” She kissed him. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re welcome.” Jon looked around the cave, seeing the entire floor was carpeted with pebbles. “I think you should put your sandals back on, babe.”
Sara pouted as she looked around, then grimaced as she saw Jon was right.
“Okay, then.” She dropped her sandals on the ground, and Jon carefully lowered her so she could slip them back on.
Jon helped her to balance, then he kept hold of her even when she had them back on again. Sara’s white t-shirt was soaked through, and Jon smiled as he saw how the wet fabric clung revealingly to her body, the cold making her nipples stand proud against the shirt. Sara looked at his smirking face, then glanced down to see what had caught his interest.
“Oh, hell!” She exclaimed as she saw the state of her shirt. “That’s not good!”
“It is from where I’m standing.” Jon told her, and Sara laughed.
“You would say that, but would you like to tell me how I’m supposed to go back into the hotel - or into the Watering Hole - like this? I don’t think they’re running a wet t-shirt contest today.”
“Well, if they were, you’d win babe, but I see what you mean.” Jon thought for a second. “Oh, I can sort this out! I bought you a shirt in Florida, and it’s in my bag. All you’ll need to do is sneak into the bathroom and I can bring it to you.”
“You bought me a shirt?”
“Yeah - I saw it, and it made me think of you. I just hope you like it.”
“That’s so sweet - I can’t believe you bought me something, when we weren’t even talking!” Her smile faded slightly. “Still doesn’t help me get from here to the bar, though. I’m kind of indecent.”
“Just the way I like you, but how about…….”
Jon stopped talking as he reached over her shoulders, splitting her long wet hair into two handfuls and pulling one forward over each shoulder, effectively screening her to the waist.
“Perfect.” He said with a grin, and Sara had to nod in agreement.
“That works. Has the rain stopped yet?”
They moved toward the front of the cave, finding that, although it hadn’t actually stopped, the rain had eased to a heavy drizzle.
“We can’t really get any wetter.” Sara said with a smile, walking out onto the wet sand, and Jon opened his mouth to comment then closed it again.
Sara turned slowly in a circle, face turned upward to the rain and a broad smile on her face.
“I do love the rain sometimes.” She said, and Jon grinned as he stepped out beside her.
“Me too. I thought I was the only idiot who liked walking in the rain, though.”
“You calling me an idiot?” Sara demanded, and Jon groaned.
“Awwww shit! That’s not what I meant, baby, I……” He broke off as he realised she was grinning.
“That’s something else for you to apologise for. You’re going to be a busy boy, aren’t you?!”
Jon smiled. “Never let it be said I don’t know how to say I’m sorry - but not here. Just you keep that list going, babe, and I’ll make it all up to you tonight. And tomorrow morning, and tomorrow night, and probably somewhere in between, too.”
“Promises, promises.” Sara took his hand as she gave him that naughty, sexy grin that made his stomach flip over. “You know I’m gonna hold you to that, don’t you?”
“Oh, I hope so.”
“No way, Alex! Why would somebody like that come here? You’re nuts!”
“Uh, Alex? Sorry to interrupt.” Sara said, and the argument stopped immediately as the three locals stared at Sara and Jon.
“No problem, Sara. What’s up?”
“We were going to take a walk up the cliffs, and I wondered if Jon could leave his bag here?”
“Sure. I can put it behind the bar - it’ll be safe there. Do you want to leave yours, too?”
Jon hadn’t even noticed that Sara had a small bag strapped around her waist.
“No - my camera’s in there, and I’ll probably want that. How far does that path go along the cliffs?”
“Oh, it goes for miles - it’s part of a coastal path that goes all the way around Cornwall, but you can just go across the cliffs until you come to a concrete walkway and there’s some stairs down to the beach. Go down those stairs and turn left, and you can walk all the way back along the beach to here. Probably take you about an hour at the very least. Depends how much of a hurry you’re in.”
“I’m in no hurry.” Sara said, looking at Jon. “How about you?”
“I’m all yours, babe. I don’t fly back until Thursday, so a walk sounds great. I need to loosen off a bit anyhow.”
“Okay - let’s go, then. Thanks, Alex.”
As Sara and Jon left, they heard the voices inside again, but this time they didn’t seem to be arguing with Alex.
“I think they recognised you.” Sara told Jon, who merely shrugged.
“I’m used to it, Sara. I think young Alex there has a crush on you.”
“Oh, please! I only met him yesterday!”
Jon reached over and took Sara’s hand, interlacing their fingers as they walked, and Sara moved to walk closer to him, their shoulders almost touching as they headed toward a set of partially eroded stone steps. The steps were narrow, and they had to go up in single file, Jon letting Sara walk in front of him. At the top, they came onto a sandy track, just wide enough for them to walk hand in hand again, though fronds of stiff, sharp grass whipped across their jeans, one piece opening a shallow cut on the back of Jon’s hand.
A little way along the path, they found a wooden bench, which had an engraved brass plate which said it had been placed there in memory of somebody-or-other. Slightly breathless from the deceptively steep climb, they sat down to rest, gazing out over the cliff edge to the ocean.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Sara whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence too much.
She had an impulse to lay her head on Jon’s shoulder, and she resisted the urge for a few seconds, then gave in, letting her head rest against him. Jon disentangled his fingers from hers, placing his right arm around her shoulders and taking hold of her hand with his left, still staring out to sea. For a change, he had the sense to keep his mouth firmly shut, just enjoying the closeness he thought he’d lost forever through his stupidity. After a few minutes, Sara squeezed her fingers against his, raising her head to look up at Jon with a slight smile.
“What is it, baby?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking maybe I should’ve given you a harder time about what you said, but I was just so pleased to see you. Kinda crazy, really, considering I cried myself to sleep that night. And I do tears even less than I do emotion!”
“Have I said how sorry I am?” Jon asked with a tender smile, and Sara wrinkled her nose.
“Not in the last ten minutes you haven’t. You could always show me how sorry you are.”
“I’ll prove it to you when we get to your hotel.” Jon promised. “But I can give you a down-payment now, if you’d like?”
He didn’t even wait for her to nod, just slid his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, holding her captive as he just barely touched his lips to hers, murmuring ‘I’m sorry’ before opening her mouth with his tongue, skilfully working her lips apart so he could taste the sweetness of her mouth. Jon could feel her slick tongue against his, twisting sinuously in his mouth, and her hand clenched against his as they kissed. They took their time, comfortable in the knowledge that they were alone on the clifftop. Or so they though, until there was a deep bark close by.
A large black chow-chow was watching them, tail wagging gently, and Sara automatically reached out her hand to the dog, who came over to be stroked. Resignedly, Jon also reached to pat the fluffy black coat, and the dog thumped against his leg as it moved closer. A moment later, a blonde woman appeared, and the dog abandoned them, running to her then going off down the track again. The woman nodded politely as she passed, and Jon and Sara smiled in response.
“I guess we should carry on.” Jon suggested, so they stood and continued with their walk, holding hands once again.
The views from the clifftop were spectacular, and Sara took out the small camera she had in her bag, taking a few photos. Jon took the camera out of her hands, turning it on her instead, and Sara covered her face with both hands.
“Aw, c’mon babe!” Jon cajoled her. “Just one, please? You look so pretty with the wind blowing your hair like that.”
“Yeah - so long as it’s blowing over my face.” But she did take her hands down, looking solemnly at Jon through the tangled strands.
He grinned at her as he quickly took a photo, then he stretched out a hand to flick her hair to the side, to it was blowing free behind her, no longer covering her face.
“Say ‘cheese’.” Jon instructed, then had a better idea. “No, don’t. Say ‘fuck’!”
That made her laugh, and Jon got one more photo before she reached for the camera.
“Enough.” She said, taking it from him. “Your turn.”
She took a few photos of Jon, then put the camera away as they came to a rough section of the trail, Jon’s hand steadying her, and now they could see the stairs Alex had told them about. The last part of the path was formed of roughened concrete, leading them directly to the stairs, which Sara eyed dubiously as she noted their open wooden construction.
“Do you think those are safe?”
“Yeah - they look fine to me. Come on.”
Jon dragged her to the stairs, making an exaggerated show of stamping on the first stair.
“See? Solid as a rock. C’mon scaredy cat.”
He led her down the stairs, which were much sturdier than they’d looked from a distance, and they quickly reached the soft sandy beach. Still standing on the bottom step, Sara pulled off her sandals and turned up the bottom of her jeans before stepping onto the sand. Jon was watching her with an amused smile.
“What?” Sara asked. “I hate wearing shoes on the beach - I like the feel of the sand.”
“Come on, then.”
Jon took her hand again, and they started the long walk back along the deserted beach. They hadn’t gone very far when a huge raindrop hit Sara squarely on the head, making her yelp. Jon started to ask what was wrong, then he got stung by a droplet, too. Before they could even think of where to shelter, the heavens opened, a torrential downpour that soaked them almost instantly.
“Over here!” Sara pulled Jon over to the cliffs, where she’d seen caves the previous day.
She headed into one of the deeper ones, but hesitated when she felt the pebbles and shells under her bare feet. Jon stopped beside her, looked down, then just scooped her up and carried her inside the cave, out of the rainstorm.
“And that’s why you should’ve kept your shoes on.” He told her.
“Yeah, but I had my knight in shining armour - or at least soggy denim - to look after me.” She kissed him. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re welcome.” Jon looked around the cave, seeing the entire floor was carpeted with pebbles. “I think you should put your sandals back on, babe.”
Sara pouted as she looked around, then grimaced as she saw Jon was right.
“Okay, then.” She dropped her sandals on the ground, and Jon carefully lowered her so she could slip them back on.
Jon helped her to balance, then he kept hold of her even when she had them back on again. Sara’s white t-shirt was soaked through, and Jon smiled as he saw how the wet fabric clung revealingly to her body, the cold making her nipples stand proud against the shirt. Sara looked at his smirking face, then glanced down to see what had caught his interest.
“Oh, hell!” She exclaimed as she saw the state of her shirt. “That’s not good!”
“It is from where I’m standing.” Jon told her, and Sara laughed.
“You would say that, but would you like to tell me how I’m supposed to go back into the hotel - or into the Watering Hole - like this? I don’t think they’re running a wet t-shirt contest today.”
“Well, if they were, you’d win babe, but I see what you mean.” Jon thought for a second. “Oh, I can sort this out! I bought you a shirt in Florida, and it’s in my bag. All you’ll need to do is sneak into the bathroom and I can bring it to you.”
“You bought me a shirt?”
“Yeah - I saw it, and it made me think of you. I just hope you like it.”
“That’s so sweet - I can’t believe you bought me something, when we weren’t even talking!” Her smile faded slightly. “Still doesn’t help me get from here to the bar, though. I’m kind of indecent.”
“Just the way I like you, but how about…….”
Jon stopped talking as he reached over her shoulders, splitting her long wet hair into two handfuls and pulling one forward over each shoulder, effectively screening her to the waist.
“Perfect.” He said with a grin, and Sara had to nod in agreement.
“That works. Has the rain stopped yet?”
They moved toward the front of the cave, finding that, although it hadn’t actually stopped, the rain had eased to a heavy drizzle.
“We can’t really get any wetter.” Sara said with a smile, walking out onto the wet sand, and Jon opened his mouth to comment then closed it again.
Sara turned slowly in a circle, face turned upward to the rain and a broad smile on her face.
“I do love the rain sometimes.” She said, and Jon grinned as he stepped out beside her.
“Me too. I thought I was the only idiot who liked walking in the rain, though.”
“You calling me an idiot?” Sara demanded, and Jon groaned.
“Awwww shit! That’s not what I meant, baby, I……” He broke off as he realised she was grinning.
“That’s something else for you to apologise for. You’re going to be a busy boy, aren’t you?!”
Jon smiled. “Never let it be said I don’t know how to say I’m sorry - but not here. Just you keep that list going, babe, and I’ll make it all up to you tonight. And tomorrow morning, and tomorrow night, and probably somewhere in between, too.”
“Promises, promises.” Sara took his hand as she gave him that naughty, sexy grin that made his stomach flip over. “You know I’m gonna hold you to that, don’t you?”
“Oh, I hope so.”
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Chapter 77
Jon’s flight was on schedule, and the stewardesses in the first class cabin kept him well supplied with coffee and food. His last-minute booking meant that, thankfully, the press were blissfully unaware of his arrival, and the airline staff helpfully got him processed through the formalities so he could head out for a night in a hotel before getting his private flight down to Cornwall the next morning.
Next morning, though they didn’t know it, Sara and Jon breakfasted at the same time - Jon on room service, and Sara in the hotel’s charming dining room, her table by the window allowing her to gaze out at the beach. Jon’s flight had him down in Newquay just after ten am, and he grabbed a cab to take him to Perranporth, though from the driver’s expression, Jon was fairly sure he’d mangled both the hotel and town names!
While the taxi drove down myriad country lanes, where Jon couldn’t even see past the high banks on either side, he pulled out his cellphone and called Sara, who picked up almost immediately.
“Hi Jon.”
“Mornin’ baby. How you doin’ this morning?”
“I’m good. How ‘bout you?”
“Great. What’re you doing today, then?”
“Well, I’ve had breakfast, and I’m currently walking along the most beautiful beach. On my way back to the hotel, I’ll stop in at the Watering Hole for a coffee - they do really good coffee!”
“You’ll stop where?” Jon had just seen a sign that said he was only two miles away.
“The Watering Hole. It’s a restaurant right on the beach. I stopped in there yesterday afternoon.”
“Have a coffee for me, too.” Jon suggested. “I gotta go, babe. Talk to you soon.”
“Okay, bye Jon.”
The cab was just entering the village when Jon hung up, and he told the driver he now wanted to go to the Watering Hole. Sighing at the ignorance of tourists, the driver explained he’d have to walk - it was on the beach!
Pulling up right at the seawall, the cabbie pointed out across the beach to a sizeable wooden building.
“There’s your Watering ‘Ole over there. That’ll be fourteen pound eighty please.”
“Thanks, man.” Jon said, handing over twenty five pounds - not realising that Cornwall wasn’t exactly up to London levels when it came to tips. “Keep it.”
“Thank you.” Now, finally, the driver was friendlier, and he told Jon the best way to get to the Watering Hole, by crossing the car park and going onto the beach that way, avoiding the necessity of wading over any of the small streams.
Jon got out of the cab, his small bag slung over one shoulder, already wearing his cap and shades. He hefted his bag, moving the shoulder strap into a more comfortable position, then walked across the tarmac and down an incline onto the soft sand of the beach. Sara had been right - it really was a beautiful beach, and Jon paused for a minute on the little wooden bridge which spanned a stream, taking in the view and the tranquility. He thought he recognised Sara coming out of the Watering Hole, carrying a mug to one of the outdoor tables, and his pulse was racing as he started walking again. There was a side entrance, and he aimed for that, managing to cross the expanse of sand without Sara turning around.
Inside, he was forced to take off his sunglasses in the dim light, and he went over to the bar to order coffee. The young guy serving looked at him oddly - obviously thinking he recognised Jon, but his brain refusing to accept that it could possibly be who he thought, even when he heard the American accent. He poured the coffees and Jon paid for them, along with a plate of chocolate brownies, then picked up the tray and headed on outside. He left his sunglasses off, willing to suffer the painful eyes to he could see Sara more clearly.
Quietly on the sand, Jon walked up behind Sara and took the plate of brownies off the tray, laying them next to her mug.
“I didn’t order brownies.” Sara said, looking at the plate, then swivelling around to speak to - as she thought - the barman. Her jaw dropped. “Jon?!”
“Hi Sara.” He gave an uncertain grin, laying the tray on the table as he waited for her to speak again. She didn’t, and there was an interminable silence until Jon was forced to speak again.
“Baby - say something, please. Scream at me, slap me, anything!” He pleaded, and Sara slowly stood up to face him.
She had tears running down her face, and Jon’s spirit quailed as he thought this had been a mistake, it was too soon - he should’ve waited until she came home. All thoughts were driven from his mind a moment later as she hissed.
“You bastard, Jon!”
Her right hand came across like a striking rattlesnake as she slapped him with all her strength, the force of the blow jolting his bag from his shoulder to fall in the sand as his head snapped to the side.
While Jon was still reeling from the slap - he’d never realised she had strength like that in her - Sara spun around and half-ran out onto the beach, the soft windblown sand making her stumble. Jon only hesitated for a second - he’d come too far to just let her walk away from him now. Leaving his bag in the sand where it had fallen, he went after her, feeling tears in his eyes that weren’t just from the bright sun. Sara had stopped on the beach, standing staring out to sea, and Jon walked around in front of her. She looked at him for a second, through her tears, then dropped her gaze to the sand.
“Baby?” Jon cautiously took one of her hands, feeling a leap of hope when she didn’t pull away from him. “Sara? Please sweetheart - tell me what I can do, to make this better.”
He could feel her hand trembling in his, and he ached to take her in his arms, but forced himself to stand perfectly still until she finally looked at him again.
“I guess maybe I hadn’t calmed down as much as I thought. I did think I was over it until I saw you.” She said quietly. “You really hurt me, Jon.”
“I know I did, Sara, and I wish I could go back and start again, without being such a total prick this time, but I can’t.”
He could feel her beginning to pull her hand out of his grasp, and he quickly caught her other hand, too, holding them both tightly as he dropped onto his knees in the sand, looking abjectly up at her like a penitent begging forgiveness. It wasn’t all that far from the truth.
“Sara, please. I know I fucked up, but can you forgive me? I love you, baby.”
There were tears coursing down Jon’s face now as he stared pleadingly up at Sara. He thought he could see a softening of the taut line of her jaw, but he tried not to read too much into it, waiting patiently for her answer.
Sara looked down at Jon, every fibre of her being telling her to forgive him, remembering the old woman from the airport and her sad story. It just wasn’t in her nature to hold a grudge - just look how she’d forgiven Kay - and surely the fact that Jon had come this far to see her said enough? She pulled one hand free from Jon’s, and she could see the raw fear in his eyes, the fear that she was going to reject him. Instead of pulling away completely, though, Sara gently wiped the tears from his face, ignoring those dripping from her own lashes.
“Get up, you silly man.” She said, her voice husky with her tears. “Everybody’s looking at us.”
“I don’t care about ‘everybody’ - just you.” Jon told her as he got to his feet, still holding tightly to her hand.
“Sara - is this guy hassling you?” A voice from behind her.
Turning, Sara saw the young bartender, who must have seen her slap Jon and run away.
“Oh, no Alex, it’s fine.” She smiled reassuringly. “We’re fine now.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and tugged on Jon’s hand, pulling him back toward the table.
“Chocolate brownies, huh?”
“Seemed worth a shot.” Jon smiled now as he pulled his cap down a little further, trying to shade his eyes.
“Where are your sunglasses?”
“In my bag.”
Alex, the bartender, was still standing nearby, and Sara suddenly felt rude.
“I’m sorry - Alex, this is Jon. Jon - Alex. He’s been keeping me in coffee!”
“Good to meet you.” Jon grinned and held out a hand. “Thanks for looking out for Sara.”
“No problem - all part of the service.” Alex quickly shook Jon’s hand, then went back inside, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t possibly be Jon Bon Jovi.
Sara and Jon sat down, and Jon thankfully put on his sunglasses before picking up his coffee. Taking a brownie, Sara nibbled at the corner as Jon took a drink of coffee.
“So - what brings you to the UK?” Sara asked.
“I came to see you - to try to put things right.”
“Well, yeah, I can see that, but you must have had some other reason to fly all this way.”
She looked stunned when Jon shook his head, smiling crookedly at her.
“You came all the way here just for me? Why?”
“My sweet girl.” He reached to caress her face. “I had to come. I just couldn’t leave it another two weeks to apologise to you. I needed to see you, to try to - I don’t know - try to win you back, I guess. I got so damned scared that something was gonna happen, that I’d never see you again, never get the chance to speak to you and beg you to give me another chance.”
“Strangely enough, that’s pretty much why I called you the other day.” Sara said, picking pieces off the brownie. “I was talking with a woman at the airport, and she was telling me to give you another chance. Apparently she fought with her boyfriend years ago and he went off to war and never came back. She never got to say she was sorry. She was right - life’s too short.”
“Well, that’s sad, but I’m glad she told you, if that’s what made you willing to give me a second chance.”
“It was. Well, that and the fact that I missed you so much it felt like somebody was ripping my heart out. I tried so hard to hate you, but I just couldn’t do it.”
“And thank God for that. I was sure I’d lost you this time, Sara. Just tell me what you want me to do to make it up to you. Anything you want. Anything.”
“Well,” Sara pretended to think, “you did buy me chocolate brownies and coffee. What more could I possibly want or need?” The teasing sparkle was starting to return to her eyes. “How about a kiss?”
“Your wish is my command.” Jon grinned, leaning forward to press his lips to hers, his mouth taking possession of hers as his tongue teased her.
She tasted of chocolate and coffee, and Jon felt her fingers pushing his cap back off his head so she could tangle her hands into his hair. The sudden harsh cry of a gull reminded them they were on a public beach, and they broke apart reluctantly, each of them hungry for more.
“Am I forgiven?” Jon asked quietly, his face still close to Sara.
“I’m not sure. I mean, as a good Catholic boy, shouldn’t you be doing penance or something? Y’know, on your knees?”
Jon looked around with a grin, sliding one hand up her thigh.
“Here? I’m game if you are!”
“No, not here! Where are you staying?”
He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“I was hoping to charm my way back into your good graces, and hopefully back into your bedroom.” He admitted.
“You think I’m that easy? Buy me coffee and chocolate and I’m yours?” Sara giggled. “God, I hate being predictable. Of course you can share my room - it’s got two beds after all!”
Jon rolled his eyes, then Sara changed the subject slightly.
“Do you feel like taking a walk?”
“Where to?”
“I want to go up on the cliffs, but I’m kinda afraid of heights, so I didn’t want to go up alone.”
“Sure. D’you think your buddy would let me leave my bag here?”
“Probably. I can ask. Let’s go inside and find out.”
Next morning, though they didn’t know it, Sara and Jon breakfasted at the same time - Jon on room service, and Sara in the hotel’s charming dining room, her table by the window allowing her to gaze out at the beach. Jon’s flight had him down in Newquay just after ten am, and he grabbed a cab to take him to Perranporth, though from the driver’s expression, Jon was fairly sure he’d mangled both the hotel and town names!
While the taxi drove down myriad country lanes, where Jon couldn’t even see past the high banks on either side, he pulled out his cellphone and called Sara, who picked up almost immediately.
“Hi Jon.”
“Mornin’ baby. How you doin’ this morning?”
“I’m good. How ‘bout you?”
“Great. What’re you doing today, then?”
“Well, I’ve had breakfast, and I’m currently walking along the most beautiful beach. On my way back to the hotel, I’ll stop in at the Watering Hole for a coffee - they do really good coffee!”
“You’ll stop where?” Jon had just seen a sign that said he was only two miles away.
“The Watering Hole. It’s a restaurant right on the beach. I stopped in there yesterday afternoon.”
“Have a coffee for me, too.” Jon suggested. “I gotta go, babe. Talk to you soon.”
“Okay, bye Jon.”
The cab was just entering the village when Jon hung up, and he told the driver he now wanted to go to the Watering Hole. Sighing at the ignorance of tourists, the driver explained he’d have to walk - it was on the beach!
Pulling up right at the seawall, the cabbie pointed out across the beach to a sizeable wooden building.
“There’s your Watering ‘Ole over there. That’ll be fourteen pound eighty please.”
“Thanks, man.” Jon said, handing over twenty five pounds - not realising that Cornwall wasn’t exactly up to London levels when it came to tips. “Keep it.”
“Thank you.” Now, finally, the driver was friendlier, and he told Jon the best way to get to the Watering Hole, by crossing the car park and going onto the beach that way, avoiding the necessity of wading over any of the small streams.
Jon got out of the cab, his small bag slung over one shoulder, already wearing his cap and shades. He hefted his bag, moving the shoulder strap into a more comfortable position, then walked across the tarmac and down an incline onto the soft sand of the beach. Sara had been right - it really was a beautiful beach, and Jon paused for a minute on the little wooden bridge which spanned a stream, taking in the view and the tranquility. He thought he recognised Sara coming out of the Watering Hole, carrying a mug to one of the outdoor tables, and his pulse was racing as he started walking again. There was a side entrance, and he aimed for that, managing to cross the expanse of sand without Sara turning around.
Inside, he was forced to take off his sunglasses in the dim light, and he went over to the bar to order coffee. The young guy serving looked at him oddly - obviously thinking he recognised Jon, but his brain refusing to accept that it could possibly be who he thought, even when he heard the American accent. He poured the coffees and Jon paid for them, along with a plate of chocolate brownies, then picked up the tray and headed on outside. He left his sunglasses off, willing to suffer the painful eyes to he could see Sara more clearly.
Quietly on the sand, Jon walked up behind Sara and took the plate of brownies off the tray, laying them next to her mug.
“I didn’t order brownies.” Sara said, looking at the plate, then swivelling around to speak to - as she thought - the barman. Her jaw dropped. “Jon?!”
“Hi Sara.” He gave an uncertain grin, laying the tray on the table as he waited for her to speak again. She didn’t, and there was an interminable silence until Jon was forced to speak again.
“Baby - say something, please. Scream at me, slap me, anything!” He pleaded, and Sara slowly stood up to face him.
She had tears running down her face, and Jon’s spirit quailed as he thought this had been a mistake, it was too soon - he should’ve waited until she came home. All thoughts were driven from his mind a moment later as she hissed.
“You bastard, Jon!”
Her right hand came across like a striking rattlesnake as she slapped him with all her strength, the force of the blow jolting his bag from his shoulder to fall in the sand as his head snapped to the side.
While Jon was still reeling from the slap - he’d never realised she had strength like that in her - Sara spun around and half-ran out onto the beach, the soft windblown sand making her stumble. Jon only hesitated for a second - he’d come too far to just let her walk away from him now. Leaving his bag in the sand where it had fallen, he went after her, feeling tears in his eyes that weren’t just from the bright sun. Sara had stopped on the beach, standing staring out to sea, and Jon walked around in front of her. She looked at him for a second, through her tears, then dropped her gaze to the sand.
“Baby?” Jon cautiously took one of her hands, feeling a leap of hope when she didn’t pull away from him. “Sara? Please sweetheart - tell me what I can do, to make this better.”
He could feel her hand trembling in his, and he ached to take her in his arms, but forced himself to stand perfectly still until she finally looked at him again.
“I guess maybe I hadn’t calmed down as much as I thought. I did think I was over it until I saw you.” She said quietly. “You really hurt me, Jon.”
“I know I did, Sara, and I wish I could go back and start again, without being such a total prick this time, but I can’t.”
He could feel her beginning to pull her hand out of his grasp, and he quickly caught her other hand, too, holding them both tightly as he dropped onto his knees in the sand, looking abjectly up at her like a penitent begging forgiveness. It wasn’t all that far from the truth.
“Sara, please. I know I fucked up, but can you forgive me? I love you, baby.”
There were tears coursing down Jon’s face now as he stared pleadingly up at Sara. He thought he could see a softening of the taut line of her jaw, but he tried not to read too much into it, waiting patiently for her answer.
Sara looked down at Jon, every fibre of her being telling her to forgive him, remembering the old woman from the airport and her sad story. It just wasn’t in her nature to hold a grudge - just look how she’d forgiven Kay - and surely the fact that Jon had come this far to see her said enough? She pulled one hand free from Jon’s, and she could see the raw fear in his eyes, the fear that she was going to reject him. Instead of pulling away completely, though, Sara gently wiped the tears from his face, ignoring those dripping from her own lashes.
“Get up, you silly man.” She said, her voice husky with her tears. “Everybody’s looking at us.”
“I don’t care about ‘everybody’ - just you.” Jon told her as he got to his feet, still holding tightly to her hand.
“Sara - is this guy hassling you?” A voice from behind her.
Turning, Sara saw the young bartender, who must have seen her slap Jon and run away.
“Oh, no Alex, it’s fine.” She smiled reassuringly. “We’re fine now.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and tugged on Jon’s hand, pulling him back toward the table.
“Chocolate brownies, huh?”
“Seemed worth a shot.” Jon smiled now as he pulled his cap down a little further, trying to shade his eyes.
“Where are your sunglasses?”
“In my bag.”
Alex, the bartender, was still standing nearby, and Sara suddenly felt rude.
“I’m sorry - Alex, this is Jon. Jon - Alex. He’s been keeping me in coffee!”
“Good to meet you.” Jon grinned and held out a hand. “Thanks for looking out for Sara.”
“No problem - all part of the service.” Alex quickly shook Jon’s hand, then went back inside, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t possibly be Jon Bon Jovi.
Sara and Jon sat down, and Jon thankfully put on his sunglasses before picking up his coffee. Taking a brownie, Sara nibbled at the corner as Jon took a drink of coffee.
“So - what brings you to the UK?” Sara asked.
“I came to see you - to try to put things right.”
“Well, yeah, I can see that, but you must have had some other reason to fly all this way.”
She looked stunned when Jon shook his head, smiling crookedly at her.
“You came all the way here just for me? Why?”
“My sweet girl.” He reached to caress her face. “I had to come. I just couldn’t leave it another two weeks to apologise to you. I needed to see you, to try to - I don’t know - try to win you back, I guess. I got so damned scared that something was gonna happen, that I’d never see you again, never get the chance to speak to you and beg you to give me another chance.”
“Strangely enough, that’s pretty much why I called you the other day.” Sara said, picking pieces off the brownie. “I was talking with a woman at the airport, and she was telling me to give you another chance. Apparently she fought with her boyfriend years ago and he went off to war and never came back. She never got to say she was sorry. She was right - life’s too short.”
“Well, that’s sad, but I’m glad she told you, if that’s what made you willing to give me a second chance.”
“It was. Well, that and the fact that I missed you so much it felt like somebody was ripping my heart out. I tried so hard to hate you, but I just couldn’t do it.”
“And thank God for that. I was sure I’d lost you this time, Sara. Just tell me what you want me to do to make it up to you. Anything you want. Anything.”
“Well,” Sara pretended to think, “you did buy me chocolate brownies and coffee. What more could I possibly want or need?” The teasing sparkle was starting to return to her eyes. “How about a kiss?”
“Your wish is my command.” Jon grinned, leaning forward to press his lips to hers, his mouth taking possession of hers as his tongue teased her.
She tasted of chocolate and coffee, and Jon felt her fingers pushing his cap back off his head so she could tangle her hands into his hair. The sudden harsh cry of a gull reminded them they were on a public beach, and they broke apart reluctantly, each of them hungry for more.
“Am I forgiven?” Jon asked quietly, his face still close to Sara.
“I’m not sure. I mean, as a good Catholic boy, shouldn’t you be doing penance or something? Y’know, on your knees?”
Jon looked around with a grin, sliding one hand up her thigh.
“Here? I’m game if you are!”
“No, not here! Where are you staying?”
He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“I was hoping to charm my way back into your good graces, and hopefully back into your bedroom.” He admitted.
“You think I’m that easy? Buy me coffee and chocolate and I’m yours?” Sara giggled. “God, I hate being predictable. Of course you can share my room - it’s got two beds after all!”
Jon rolled his eyes, then Sara changed the subject slightly.
“Do you feel like taking a walk?”
“Where to?”
“I want to go up on the cliffs, but I’m kinda afraid of heights, so I didn’t want to go up alone.”
“Sure. D’you think your buddy would let me leave my bag here?”
“Probably. I can ask. Let’s go inside and find out.”
Monday, December 17, 2007
Chapter 76
Sara’s ride arrived right on time, taking her out deep into the beautiful Cornish countryside, where she took huge numbers of photos of the hunt, immensely happy to be using a digital camera, where she didn’t need to keep changing film - just keep on taking photos until the batteries were exhausted! Tonight, she could upload them all to her laptop, freeing up her camera memory again. By mid afternoon, the hunt was over, except for a very few diehards who were hacking home, scorning the horseboxes, and she was glad when her ride offered to take her back to the hotel.
When they got into the car, Sara turned her cellphone back on - she didn’t need the distraction when she was working. They were almost back to her hotel when she was shocked to suddenly hear Jon’s voice, accompanying the vibration of her phone.
“Hey gorgeous - it’s me - pick up the phone!” It began to repeat, and she realised what Jon had been doing with her cellphone the other day - he’d set a new ringtone - in the form of this personal recording - for any calls from his cellphone. Despite herself, and carefully not looking at the driver, Sara smiled as she answered the call.
“Hello.”
“Hi baby. How are ya?”
“I’m fine. Tired. Were you messing with my phone the other day?”
“Oh! Shit - I forgot about that! Am I in trouble again?”
“Well, I answered the phone, so what d’you think?”
Jon chuckled, and Sara felt her belly knotting at the sound. God, she missed him.
“Hey - how did the show go last night?” She asked, suddenly remembering he was in Florida, and wondering how she’d forgotten, considering the way they’d parted company.
“It was okay, I guess. I didn’t really want to do it, but Richie gave me a verbal ass-kicking, so it was okay.”
As Jon spoke, Sara heard another familiar voice in the background.
“Is that Sara?”
“Yeah……..hey!”
There was the sound of the phone being grabbed, then another voice came on the line.
“Sara?”
“Hi Richie. How are you?”
“I’m great, now that our primadonna here is happy again. How ‘bout you?”
In the background, Sara heard another plaintive ‘hey’ from Jon at Richie’s description, and she giggled.
“That was a bit unfair Richie! I’m fine, though. Now.”
“So.” Richie put on his best Sopranos-style voice. “You want I should kick his ass for ya? For upsetting my girl?”
“No, Richie. If you’d asked me a day or so back, I’d have probably said yes - but only if I could watch - but it’s okay now!”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Richie was serious again. “Okay, girl, I’ll give you back to Jon. I’ll see ya soon, though, right?”
“Well, I’m over here another couple of weeks, but I’ll be home soon enough. Bye Richie.”
Jon came back on the line, and they spoke for a few minutes longer, but a phone call really wasn’t enough to let them work through their recent problems, and Jon felt vaguely dissatisfied when they said goodbye. Although Sara was at least talking to him again, there was a definite coolness in her voice which worried him. As he laid his phone on the table and reached for his coffee, he realised that the four guys were staring at him.
“What?”
“Bro, you need to talk to Sara.” Richie told him.
“I just did.” Jon missed Richie’s meaning, and his buddy gave a despairing headshake.
“I mean, you need to go see her. Don’t wait until she comes home - go over to the UK and sort this out. Trust me,” Richie gave a rueful grin, very conscious of Ava sitting there, “the longer you leave something like this, the harder it is to fix it.”
Jon looked across the table, seeing Dave and Tico nodding wisely, and he was reminded how they had both already gone through divorces, so maybe they did know what they were talking about. He sighed heavily.
“Much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right, Rich.” Jon thought for a few minutes. “I could fly over tomorrow - Sara’s working, but she’s off Tuesday and Wednesday. I can find out where she’s staying, I think, so all I need to do is get a flight over.”
Now that he’d made the decision, Jon couldn’t wait to get going, and Dave laughed suddenly.
“I wish you could see yourself, Jon - you look like you did when Dot first agreed to go out with you.”
“Yeah.” Tico’s gravelly voice joined the good-natured teasing. “And I heard that you even washed dishes for this girl?”
Groaning, Jon buried his head in his hands as everybody laughed at him - even Ava.
“Certainly sounds like love to me.” Dave opined, and Jon thrust out his hands in a very Italian ‘Well, what can I say?’ gesture, grinning.
They finally moved on out of the restaurant, their extended breakfast having taken them up almost all the way to lunchtime, and Jon called his long-suffering assistant, sweet talking her into sorting out his travel arrangements for the next day. When he hung up the call, Richie was shaking his head at him again.
“Jesus, man - I need to get an assistant like yours. You call her up on a Sunday, and she doesn’t just hang up on you? How come?”
“Have you seen the size of her paycheck?” Jon laughed as he headed into his room to pack up his stuff.
While Jon was packing, his assistant called to let him know she’d sorted out his flights, telling him which airline and the time. Fortunately his passport lived permanently in his travel bag, because she’d booked him to fly out of Florida, then a private plane down to Newquay. She asked about accommodation, but he told her that it was already under control - well, with any luck he’d be back sharing Sara’s bed, though obviously he didn’t mention that to his gossipy secretary! If he and Sara couldn’t sort things out, then accommodation would be the least of his worries.
He went to Richie’s room, thumping on the door until it was opened from inside by a grouchy Ava.
“Daddy’s in his room.” She told him, heading right back to the TV.
Jon grimaced - sometimes Ava was so like Heather that it was downright scary! He went into the bedroom, where Richie was stuffing clothes into a bag.
“Oh, hey Jon. What’s up?”
“Nothin’. I’m flying from here to London tomorrow, so I thought you and Ava may as well take the plane back to LA.”
“Cool. Thanks, bro. Give Sara my love when you see her.”
“Yeah, sure.”
They hugged like brothers do - even though they were unrelated, Jon felt closer to Richie than he did to his real brothers most of the time, just because of all the things they’d shared through the years. Jon kissed a distracted Ava as he left, stopping briefly in his own room to put on a baseball cap and his sunglasses - if he wasn’t going home, he’d need some more clothes! It was always funny how just a cap and glasses allowed him to shop unrecognised, most of the time anyway.
He walked down to a nearby mall, quickly finding a couple of pairs of Levis and a few tshirts. Standing waiting to pay, he saw a tshirt that just screamed Sara’s name, so he ducked out of the queue to pick one up, then paid for his purchases. The sales assistant, whose nametag read ‘Ana’, did a serious double-take when he handed over his credit card, and Jon braced himself for the inevitable autograph request, but she merely asked him to punch in his verification number, then handed over his bag and receipt with a smile.
“Thank you. Have a …… good day, Mr Bon Jovi.”
Jon grinned as she avoided using the phase ‘Have a nice day’, whose connotations had been forever changed for so many people by their recent song. His grin got even broader as she blushed when he answered with a wink.
“Thank YOU, darlin’. You have a good day, too.”
While Jon leisurely strolled back to his hotel and spent a wonderfully lazy afternoon by himself, across in the UK a tired Sara was uploading all her photos onto her laptop and reviewing them until she finally dozed off, only waking when her forehead hit the keyboard. She decided enough was enough, and got ready for bed, especially since she had another early pick-up time the next day. At least, though, she had Tuesday and Wednesday off, so she’d be able to relax a little then.
The next day was almost a repeat of Sunday, although this time it was the North Cornwall hunt, so it was over a different area of country. This time, Sara took all her stuff with her, as she was being taken to a new hotel for her couple of days off.
Monday morning, before his flight, Jon called Sara’s studio and spoke to Paul, who luckily didn’t seem to have heard about the fight. He readily enough gave Jon the name and address of the hotel Sara would be in that night, when Jon said he was going to send her some flowers. He did have to spell it for Jon, though - ‘Seiners’ and ‘Perranporth’ weren’t exactly words Jon was familiar with! While he sat in the cab going to the airport, though, he didn’t feel the excitement he’d felt while heading up to Canada to surprise Sara - more a nervous trepidation, praying that they could get through this, and very, very aware that it was entirely his own fault. That even made it worse, knowing it had all been avoidable if only he’d engaged his brain before putting his mouth in gear!
Jon tried to call Sara just before his flight boarded, but her cellphone was turned off, and he vaguely remembered her mentioning once that she switched it off when she was working, so she wouldn’t get distracted. He left a quick message, telling her he’d be busy all day, but he’d call her the next morning. He said again that he missed her and loved her, then said goodbye and put his phone off.
When the day’s hunting was over - a good scenting day over the high stone walls having provided some spectacular scenes for Sara’s cameras - her guide/driver took her down to the small seaside village of Perranporth. He drove her to the Seiners Arms hotel, situated right at the beach, where he said goodbye. She checked in and was shown up to a room which overlooked the beach. After laying down her luggage and taking a look out of the window, Sara couldn’t resist, and she went back downstairs to take a walk on the beach. The girl on the front desk looked up as she approached, asking Sara if there was a problem with the room.
“No, it’s great, thanks. I’m just going to take a walk on the beach.”
“Oh, okay. You can either go through the car park, or if you go out this door here and turn left, you’ll find some steps at the far end, and those take you right onto the beach.”
Sara said thanks, then took the girl’s advice, going through a small gate and down a flight of stone steps onto the pale sand. She had to cross a wide but shallow stream to get onto the main part of the beach, so she kicked off her sandals and rolled her jeans to her knees, then waded through to the other side.
She walked down to the water’s edge, seeing a few surfers out at the breakline, watching them for a while as she wandered along in the shallows, enjoying the chill of the Atlantic water on her feet. After half an hour or so, she turned and realised just how far she’d walked - there was a cliff between her and the hotel! She began to walk back, getting forced closer to the cliffs by the encroaching tide.
There was a large building up ahead, and Sara veered toward it when she saw the sign that said ‘fresh coffee’. The place was called The Watering Hole, and it seemed to be staffed exclusively by surfers. There was a definite drop in the conversation level when Sara walked in, because she was a stranger, Sara guessed. The young guy at the bar was more than happy to take her order, trying to make small talk while he poured the coffee. Sara chatted for a few minutes, introducing herself when the guy offered his own name, but she just wasn’t in the mood to talk, so she paid for her coffee and took it to an outside table, sitting slowly drinking it while the sun sank toward the horizon.
Before the light faded completely, she walked back to the hotel where she ate a lonely dinner before heading upstairs for the night.
When they got into the car, Sara turned her cellphone back on - she didn’t need the distraction when she was working. They were almost back to her hotel when she was shocked to suddenly hear Jon’s voice, accompanying the vibration of her phone.
“Hey gorgeous - it’s me - pick up the phone!” It began to repeat, and she realised what Jon had been doing with her cellphone the other day - he’d set a new ringtone - in the form of this personal recording - for any calls from his cellphone. Despite herself, and carefully not looking at the driver, Sara smiled as she answered the call.
“Hello.”
“Hi baby. How are ya?”
“I’m fine. Tired. Were you messing with my phone the other day?”
“Oh! Shit - I forgot about that! Am I in trouble again?”
“Well, I answered the phone, so what d’you think?”
Jon chuckled, and Sara felt her belly knotting at the sound. God, she missed him.
“Hey - how did the show go last night?” She asked, suddenly remembering he was in Florida, and wondering how she’d forgotten, considering the way they’d parted company.
“It was okay, I guess. I didn’t really want to do it, but Richie gave me a verbal ass-kicking, so it was okay.”
As Jon spoke, Sara heard another familiar voice in the background.
“Is that Sara?”
“Yeah……..hey!”
There was the sound of the phone being grabbed, then another voice came on the line.
“Sara?”
“Hi Richie. How are you?”
“I’m great, now that our primadonna here is happy again. How ‘bout you?”
In the background, Sara heard another plaintive ‘hey’ from Jon at Richie’s description, and she giggled.
“That was a bit unfair Richie! I’m fine, though. Now.”
“So.” Richie put on his best Sopranos-style voice. “You want I should kick his ass for ya? For upsetting my girl?”
“No, Richie. If you’d asked me a day or so back, I’d have probably said yes - but only if I could watch - but it’s okay now!”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Richie was serious again. “Okay, girl, I’ll give you back to Jon. I’ll see ya soon, though, right?”
“Well, I’m over here another couple of weeks, but I’ll be home soon enough. Bye Richie.”
Jon came back on the line, and they spoke for a few minutes longer, but a phone call really wasn’t enough to let them work through their recent problems, and Jon felt vaguely dissatisfied when they said goodbye. Although Sara was at least talking to him again, there was a definite coolness in her voice which worried him. As he laid his phone on the table and reached for his coffee, he realised that the four guys were staring at him.
“What?”
“Bro, you need to talk to Sara.” Richie told him.
“I just did.” Jon missed Richie’s meaning, and his buddy gave a despairing headshake.
“I mean, you need to go see her. Don’t wait until she comes home - go over to the UK and sort this out. Trust me,” Richie gave a rueful grin, very conscious of Ava sitting there, “the longer you leave something like this, the harder it is to fix it.”
Jon looked across the table, seeing Dave and Tico nodding wisely, and he was reminded how they had both already gone through divorces, so maybe they did know what they were talking about. He sighed heavily.
“Much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right, Rich.” Jon thought for a few minutes. “I could fly over tomorrow - Sara’s working, but she’s off Tuesday and Wednesday. I can find out where she’s staying, I think, so all I need to do is get a flight over.”
Now that he’d made the decision, Jon couldn’t wait to get going, and Dave laughed suddenly.
“I wish you could see yourself, Jon - you look like you did when Dot first agreed to go out with you.”
“Yeah.” Tico’s gravelly voice joined the good-natured teasing. “And I heard that you even washed dishes for this girl?”
Groaning, Jon buried his head in his hands as everybody laughed at him - even Ava.
“Certainly sounds like love to me.” Dave opined, and Jon thrust out his hands in a very Italian ‘Well, what can I say?’ gesture, grinning.
They finally moved on out of the restaurant, their extended breakfast having taken them up almost all the way to lunchtime, and Jon called his long-suffering assistant, sweet talking her into sorting out his travel arrangements for the next day. When he hung up the call, Richie was shaking his head at him again.
“Jesus, man - I need to get an assistant like yours. You call her up on a Sunday, and she doesn’t just hang up on you? How come?”
“Have you seen the size of her paycheck?” Jon laughed as he headed into his room to pack up his stuff.
While Jon was packing, his assistant called to let him know she’d sorted out his flights, telling him which airline and the time. Fortunately his passport lived permanently in his travel bag, because she’d booked him to fly out of Florida, then a private plane down to Newquay. She asked about accommodation, but he told her that it was already under control - well, with any luck he’d be back sharing Sara’s bed, though obviously he didn’t mention that to his gossipy secretary! If he and Sara couldn’t sort things out, then accommodation would be the least of his worries.
He went to Richie’s room, thumping on the door until it was opened from inside by a grouchy Ava.
“Daddy’s in his room.” She told him, heading right back to the TV.
Jon grimaced - sometimes Ava was so like Heather that it was downright scary! He went into the bedroom, where Richie was stuffing clothes into a bag.
“Oh, hey Jon. What’s up?”
“Nothin’. I’m flying from here to London tomorrow, so I thought you and Ava may as well take the plane back to LA.”
“Cool. Thanks, bro. Give Sara my love when you see her.”
“Yeah, sure.”
They hugged like brothers do - even though they were unrelated, Jon felt closer to Richie than he did to his real brothers most of the time, just because of all the things they’d shared through the years. Jon kissed a distracted Ava as he left, stopping briefly in his own room to put on a baseball cap and his sunglasses - if he wasn’t going home, he’d need some more clothes! It was always funny how just a cap and glasses allowed him to shop unrecognised, most of the time anyway.
He walked down to a nearby mall, quickly finding a couple of pairs of Levis and a few tshirts. Standing waiting to pay, he saw a tshirt that just screamed Sara’s name, so he ducked out of the queue to pick one up, then paid for his purchases. The sales assistant, whose nametag read ‘Ana’, did a serious double-take when he handed over his credit card, and Jon braced himself for the inevitable autograph request, but she merely asked him to punch in his verification number, then handed over his bag and receipt with a smile.
“Thank you. Have a …… good day, Mr Bon Jovi.”
Jon grinned as she avoided using the phase ‘Have a nice day’, whose connotations had been forever changed for so many people by their recent song. His grin got even broader as she blushed when he answered with a wink.
“Thank YOU, darlin’. You have a good day, too.”
While Jon leisurely strolled back to his hotel and spent a wonderfully lazy afternoon by himself, across in the UK a tired Sara was uploading all her photos onto her laptop and reviewing them until she finally dozed off, only waking when her forehead hit the keyboard. She decided enough was enough, and got ready for bed, especially since she had another early pick-up time the next day. At least, though, she had Tuesday and Wednesday off, so she’d be able to relax a little then.
The next day was almost a repeat of Sunday, although this time it was the North Cornwall hunt, so it was over a different area of country. This time, Sara took all her stuff with her, as she was being taken to a new hotel for her couple of days off.
Monday morning, before his flight, Jon called Sara’s studio and spoke to Paul, who luckily didn’t seem to have heard about the fight. He readily enough gave Jon the name and address of the hotel Sara would be in that night, when Jon said he was going to send her some flowers. He did have to spell it for Jon, though - ‘Seiners’ and ‘Perranporth’ weren’t exactly words Jon was familiar with! While he sat in the cab going to the airport, though, he didn’t feel the excitement he’d felt while heading up to Canada to surprise Sara - more a nervous trepidation, praying that they could get through this, and very, very aware that it was entirely his own fault. That even made it worse, knowing it had all been avoidable if only he’d engaged his brain before putting his mouth in gear!
Jon tried to call Sara just before his flight boarded, but her cellphone was turned off, and he vaguely remembered her mentioning once that she switched it off when she was working, so she wouldn’t get distracted. He left a quick message, telling her he’d be busy all day, but he’d call her the next morning. He said again that he missed her and loved her, then said goodbye and put his phone off.
When the day’s hunting was over - a good scenting day over the high stone walls having provided some spectacular scenes for Sara’s cameras - her guide/driver took her down to the small seaside village of Perranporth. He drove her to the Seiners Arms hotel, situated right at the beach, where he said goodbye. She checked in and was shown up to a room which overlooked the beach. After laying down her luggage and taking a look out of the window, Sara couldn’t resist, and she went back downstairs to take a walk on the beach. The girl on the front desk looked up as she approached, asking Sara if there was a problem with the room.
“No, it’s great, thanks. I’m just going to take a walk on the beach.”
“Oh, okay. You can either go through the car park, or if you go out this door here and turn left, you’ll find some steps at the far end, and those take you right onto the beach.”
Sara said thanks, then took the girl’s advice, going through a small gate and down a flight of stone steps onto the pale sand. She had to cross a wide but shallow stream to get onto the main part of the beach, so she kicked off her sandals and rolled her jeans to her knees, then waded through to the other side.
She walked down to the water’s edge, seeing a few surfers out at the breakline, watching them for a while as she wandered along in the shallows, enjoying the chill of the Atlantic water on her feet. After half an hour or so, she turned and realised just how far she’d walked - there was a cliff between her and the hotel! She began to walk back, getting forced closer to the cliffs by the encroaching tide.
There was a large building up ahead, and Sara veered toward it when she saw the sign that said ‘fresh coffee’. The place was called The Watering Hole, and it seemed to be staffed exclusively by surfers. There was a definite drop in the conversation level when Sara walked in, because she was a stranger, Sara guessed. The young guy at the bar was more than happy to take her order, trying to make small talk while he poured the coffee. Sara chatted for a few minutes, introducing herself when the guy offered his own name, but she just wasn’t in the mood to talk, so she paid for her coffee and took it to an outside table, sitting slowly drinking it while the sun sank toward the horizon.
Before the light faded completely, she walked back to the hotel where she ate a lonely dinner before heading upstairs for the night.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Chapter 75
Dejectedly, Jon drove away, back to the big house on the riverside. Dot was up now, and he had coffee with her, not really talking much, then he got his stuff together and left for the plane.
His flight down to Florida was uneventful, but when he tried dialling Sara’s cellphone, it went straight onto voicemail, so he left another pleading message. Landing in Florida, Jon was picked up and taken to the hotel, where the other guys were already staying. On the way, he called Richie.
“Jon! Where are ya, buddy? I was startin’ to think you couldn’t tear yourself away from Sara.”
“Oh, fuck, bro - if you only knew. How’s Ava?”
“Ava’s great - she’s right here. Honey, say hi to Jon.”
“Hi Uncle Jon.” He heard Ava’s childishly cute voice.
“Hey pretty girl. Did you miss me?”
“Uh-huh. You coming here?”
“Yep. I’ll be there soon, kiddo. Lemme talk to your daddy again.”
“Jon. Has something happened?”
“Yeah, Rich, you could say that. I’ll tell you later.”
“I don’t like the sound of that, bro. Come see me when you get here. Bye.”
Arriving at the hotel, Jon managed to fake smiles for the fans who were waiting outside, signing autographs on his way in. Inside, the manager took him to his room then left him alone. Jon opened up some red wine, then he called Richie again.
“Hey, Rich. I’m here. Room eight thirty one.”
“I’m right next door. Gimme a minute.”
Hanging up the call, Richie turned to Ava, who was watching TV.
“Ava - I need to go next door, see your Uncle Jon. Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes?”
“Yes, daddy.” She replied, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Okay - stay in the room, baby. I’ll be right next door.”
Ava nodded as Richie left the room, resenting any interruption of her cartoons. Richie knocked on Jon’s door, raising his eyebrows when Jon answered the door with a half-glass of red wine in his hand, walking back in and leaving Richie to close the door.
“Jon? What’s wrong?”
“I fucked it up, Rich. I really fucked it all up.”
“With Sara?”
“Yeah.” Jon gulped wine. “I said some things I shouldn’t have - God, I so shouldn’t have - and now she’s gone and she won’t talk to me. What am I gonna do?”
“Well, first, you’re gonna put down the wine and come do soundcheck, then we’ve got a show to do.”
“For the first time, ever, I don’t wanna get up there and play. I can’t face it, Richie.” Jon admitted, looking at him helplessly, and now Richie was worried.
“Jon - you may be a prick sometimes, but the one thing you’ve always been, no matter what, is a pro, and there are gonna be a lot of very disappointed people if you just throw a tantrum and don’t play. Like you kept on telling me when Heather and I were in trouble - just get your game face on and get out there.”
Jon laid his wine down and scrubbed his hands across his face. The thing was, he knew Richie was right, and he knew he had to do this show, even though he’d rather just crawl into a corner somewhere. He steeled himself, then stood up resolutely.
“Okay, bro. Let’s do this, then.”
Sara’s own flight had been okay, and once she landed at Heathrow, she had to go through immigration and customs before checking in for another flight, down to Newquay. While she waited for the plane, she put her cellphone on, to check for messages, and there was only one. When she played it back, tears formed instantly when she heard Jon’s voice, and she didn’t even listen to the whole message, just switched her phone off again. There was an elderly woman sitting nearby, and she looked across sympathetically when Sara virtually threw the phone into her bag.
“Are you okay, dear?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I’m fine.” Sara lied, feeling anything but fine. “Just a message from someone I don’t want to hear from right now.”
The woman nodded sagely. “Boyfriend? Have you had a fight?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well, it is to me, dear. So, what did he do? Was he cheating on you?”
Sara was a little taken aback by the woman’s direct question, but, well, she’d never see her again, so why not unburden herself a little. Maybe it’d help.
“No - he wasn’t cheating on me. He just said something that really hurt me, and I don’t know if I can forgive him.”
“Do you love him?”
Tears were forming again, and Sara could only nod silently.
“Does he love you?”
“He says he does. I think he does.”
“So give him another chance. You’ll always regret it if you don’t, believe me. Life is very short sometimes, my dear, and it’s certainly too short to waste on hate. When I was very much younger, I was in love with a young man, and we fought when he decided to join the army, to go to war. Back then, of course, we didn’t have mobile phones like now, and the army wouldn’t give out details of where men were stationed - security I suppose. Peter never came back - he was killed a few months later - and I never got to say I was sorry. I never got to say goodbye.” The old lady’s face was solemn, and Sara was suddenly appalled by the idea of never seeing Jon again.
“That’s terrible - I’m so sorry. You must have been devastated.”
“I was, but it was a very long time ago now. But you should give your young man another chance. At least let him try to make it up to you.”
“Maybe I will, if he calls again.”
The woman laughed. “My dear, any man who lets you slip through his fingers without a fight doesn’t deserve you.”
Just then, Sara’s flight was called, and she said goodbye to the old woman and headed for the gate. As she walked, she turned her phone on again and listened to all of Jon’s message. He really sounded upset - pleading with her to get in touch with him, any time she could. She began to dial his number, then realised she’d only have a few minutes before she had to turn her phone off again - not nearly long enough for them to sort anything out, so she cancelled the call and turned her phone off again.
When her flight arrived in Newquay, she was met by a representative of the Four Burrow hunt - the one she’d be photographing the next day. After introducing himself, he led Sara out to a battered Range Rover and drove her to a small hotel, where he left her, telling her he’d pick her up at seven the next morning. She checked in and went to her room, making herself some coffee - sadly it was instant, but at that moment it was better than nothing.
Out in Florida, Jon made it through soundcheck, finding that the routine helped take his mind off Sara a little. There was no support band tonight, so after soundcheck they had time to eat a quick dinner before changing for the show. Richie must have warned the other guys, because they were careful not to make any mention of Sara, trying not to piss Jon off too much, for the sake of the show. During the tour, there had been one day when they’d all been sniping at each other all afternoon, the gruelling schedule taking it’s toll, and it badly affected the show, to the extent that even loyal fans were referring to it as ‘Hell’, not ‘Hull’. If nothing else, it had been an unusually unprofessional thing for them to do, and none of them wanted a repeat of that night.
When it was showtime, Jon managed to bury his feelings to give his usual standard of performance, flirting with one or two of the girls down at the front. The crowd couldn’t tell anything was wrong, but Richie - closest to Jon - could see how much he was hurting. Every single song they played made Jon think of Sara, but the only time he was unable to keep it from showing was when they played Bed of Roses. The crowd probably thought it was all sweat streaking down Jon’s face, but Richie was close enough to see the tears breaking from the corners of his eyes, and he could hear the agony quavering in Jon’s voice. Unbidden, he stepped forward to the centre of the stage, standing next to Jon and singing the final chorus with him, camouflaging the breaks in Jon’s voice. Jon turned grateful eyes on him, giving a tiny nod as the song finished, then heading for the back of the stage to wipe his face and try to get it together again.
After the show, Tico, Dave and Hugh were heading out for a few drinks, but Richie begged off - he had to get back to Ava, who was being looked after at the hotel. Jon also slipped away, back to his room, checking his cellphone again in case he’d missed it ringing. Nothing. He poured himself some coffee and wearily sat down, too tired - emotionally and physically - to even drag himself to bed.
Sunday morning, Sara was up just after five am, and she took a quick shower then switched the little kettle on to boil. She picked up her cellphone and turned it on, then hesitantly dialled Jon’s number.
Jon was dozing fitfully on the couch when his phone buzzed. He groggily picked it up, looking at the display. Sara! Quickly, he punched the button to accept the call.
“Hello? Sara?”
“Hi Jon.”
“Oh, thank God, baby. I’m so glad you called. I am so, so sorry for what I said, for the way I acted.”
“I just wanted to let you know I’d calmed down a little, and that maybe we should talk once I get back. If you want to, that is.”
“Of course I want to, baby. I need you, Sara. I need you, I want you, and I love you.”
“And, despite my best efforts, I love you, Jon, even though you are an asshole sometimes. Anyway - I gotta go - somebody’s picking me up soon, and I have to get ready.”
“Okay, baby.” Jon hesitated before asking diffidently. “Can I call you later?”
“Sure you can. Bye, Jon.”
“Bye, baby. Have a great day.”
Jon was grinning as he laid his phone down. His exhaustion had evaporated, and he felt like he could take on the world, but instead he headed for bed. He slept for about three hours, waking up full of energy and itching to do something. Throwing on some sweats, he took himself down to the gym, then came back to his room, the intensive workout not even taking the edge off his bouyant mood. He was just coming back out of the shower when the hotel room phone rang.
“Hello? Oh, hey Richie. How ya doin?”
Richie blinked as he heard the tone of Jon’s voice - it hardly sounded like the guy who, the previous night, had been all but ready to throw himself off a bridge.
“Morning, Jon. Can I assume you’ve talked to Sara?”
“Yeah, bro - she called last night - or it may have been this morning - I’m not sure. How did you know?”
“Oh, I dunno.” Richie laughed. “Maybe because you don’t sound so suicidally depressed any more?”
“I do feel a whole lot better.” Jon agreed. “You had breakfast yet?”
“Uh, Jon - it’s only just after eight in the morning. Of course I haven’t had breakfast yet - I was calling to find out if you were hungry, or if you’d just drunk yourself unconscious last night.”
“Hey! I had coffee after the show, thanks very much, and I’ve already been to the gym this morning, and - yes - I’m starving. You ready to go eat now?”
“Yeah - Ava’s waiting - very impatiently.”
“Gimme two minutes to throw some clothes on and I’ll meet you outside.”
Jon quickly pulled on jeans and a Soul shirt, grinning as he remembered Sara in one of those shirts. He put on a pair of running shoes and headed out of his room, meeting Richie and Ava in the hallway. They went to the restaurant and ordered breakfast, then a few minutes later Tico, Hugh and Dave wandered in, so they ended up having a ‘family’ breakfast - the five of them and Ava. Dave looked questioningly at Richie, nodding toward Jon, and Richie just grinned and nodded.
His flight down to Florida was uneventful, but when he tried dialling Sara’s cellphone, it went straight onto voicemail, so he left another pleading message. Landing in Florida, Jon was picked up and taken to the hotel, where the other guys were already staying. On the way, he called Richie.
“Jon! Where are ya, buddy? I was startin’ to think you couldn’t tear yourself away from Sara.”
“Oh, fuck, bro - if you only knew. How’s Ava?”
“Ava’s great - she’s right here. Honey, say hi to Jon.”
“Hi Uncle Jon.” He heard Ava’s childishly cute voice.
“Hey pretty girl. Did you miss me?”
“Uh-huh. You coming here?”
“Yep. I’ll be there soon, kiddo. Lemme talk to your daddy again.”
“Jon. Has something happened?”
“Yeah, Rich, you could say that. I’ll tell you later.”
“I don’t like the sound of that, bro. Come see me when you get here. Bye.”
Arriving at the hotel, Jon managed to fake smiles for the fans who were waiting outside, signing autographs on his way in. Inside, the manager took him to his room then left him alone. Jon opened up some red wine, then he called Richie again.
“Hey, Rich. I’m here. Room eight thirty one.”
“I’m right next door. Gimme a minute.”
Hanging up the call, Richie turned to Ava, who was watching TV.
“Ava - I need to go next door, see your Uncle Jon. Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes?”
“Yes, daddy.” She replied, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Okay - stay in the room, baby. I’ll be right next door.”
Ava nodded as Richie left the room, resenting any interruption of her cartoons. Richie knocked on Jon’s door, raising his eyebrows when Jon answered the door with a half-glass of red wine in his hand, walking back in and leaving Richie to close the door.
“Jon? What’s wrong?”
“I fucked it up, Rich. I really fucked it all up.”
“With Sara?”
“Yeah.” Jon gulped wine. “I said some things I shouldn’t have - God, I so shouldn’t have - and now she’s gone and she won’t talk to me. What am I gonna do?”
“Well, first, you’re gonna put down the wine and come do soundcheck, then we’ve got a show to do.”
“For the first time, ever, I don’t wanna get up there and play. I can’t face it, Richie.” Jon admitted, looking at him helplessly, and now Richie was worried.
“Jon - you may be a prick sometimes, but the one thing you’ve always been, no matter what, is a pro, and there are gonna be a lot of very disappointed people if you just throw a tantrum and don’t play. Like you kept on telling me when Heather and I were in trouble - just get your game face on and get out there.”
Jon laid his wine down and scrubbed his hands across his face. The thing was, he knew Richie was right, and he knew he had to do this show, even though he’d rather just crawl into a corner somewhere. He steeled himself, then stood up resolutely.
“Okay, bro. Let’s do this, then.”
Sara’s own flight had been okay, and once she landed at Heathrow, she had to go through immigration and customs before checking in for another flight, down to Newquay. While she waited for the plane, she put her cellphone on, to check for messages, and there was only one. When she played it back, tears formed instantly when she heard Jon’s voice, and she didn’t even listen to the whole message, just switched her phone off again. There was an elderly woman sitting nearby, and she looked across sympathetically when Sara virtually threw the phone into her bag.
“Are you okay, dear?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I’m fine.” Sara lied, feeling anything but fine. “Just a message from someone I don’t want to hear from right now.”
The woman nodded sagely. “Boyfriend? Have you had a fight?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well, it is to me, dear. So, what did he do? Was he cheating on you?”
Sara was a little taken aback by the woman’s direct question, but, well, she’d never see her again, so why not unburden herself a little. Maybe it’d help.
“No - he wasn’t cheating on me. He just said something that really hurt me, and I don’t know if I can forgive him.”
“Do you love him?”
Tears were forming again, and Sara could only nod silently.
“Does he love you?”
“He says he does. I think he does.”
“So give him another chance. You’ll always regret it if you don’t, believe me. Life is very short sometimes, my dear, and it’s certainly too short to waste on hate. When I was very much younger, I was in love with a young man, and we fought when he decided to join the army, to go to war. Back then, of course, we didn’t have mobile phones like now, and the army wouldn’t give out details of where men were stationed - security I suppose. Peter never came back - he was killed a few months later - and I never got to say I was sorry. I never got to say goodbye.” The old lady’s face was solemn, and Sara was suddenly appalled by the idea of never seeing Jon again.
“That’s terrible - I’m so sorry. You must have been devastated.”
“I was, but it was a very long time ago now. But you should give your young man another chance. At least let him try to make it up to you.”
“Maybe I will, if he calls again.”
The woman laughed. “My dear, any man who lets you slip through his fingers without a fight doesn’t deserve you.”
Just then, Sara’s flight was called, and she said goodbye to the old woman and headed for the gate. As she walked, she turned her phone on again and listened to all of Jon’s message. He really sounded upset - pleading with her to get in touch with him, any time she could. She began to dial his number, then realised she’d only have a few minutes before she had to turn her phone off again - not nearly long enough for them to sort anything out, so she cancelled the call and turned her phone off again.
When her flight arrived in Newquay, she was met by a representative of the Four Burrow hunt - the one she’d be photographing the next day. After introducing himself, he led Sara out to a battered Range Rover and drove her to a small hotel, where he left her, telling her he’d pick her up at seven the next morning. She checked in and went to her room, making herself some coffee - sadly it was instant, but at that moment it was better than nothing.
Out in Florida, Jon made it through soundcheck, finding that the routine helped take his mind off Sara a little. There was no support band tonight, so after soundcheck they had time to eat a quick dinner before changing for the show. Richie must have warned the other guys, because they were careful not to make any mention of Sara, trying not to piss Jon off too much, for the sake of the show. During the tour, there had been one day when they’d all been sniping at each other all afternoon, the gruelling schedule taking it’s toll, and it badly affected the show, to the extent that even loyal fans were referring to it as ‘Hell’, not ‘Hull’. If nothing else, it had been an unusually unprofessional thing for them to do, and none of them wanted a repeat of that night.
When it was showtime, Jon managed to bury his feelings to give his usual standard of performance, flirting with one or two of the girls down at the front. The crowd couldn’t tell anything was wrong, but Richie - closest to Jon - could see how much he was hurting. Every single song they played made Jon think of Sara, but the only time he was unable to keep it from showing was when they played Bed of Roses. The crowd probably thought it was all sweat streaking down Jon’s face, but Richie was close enough to see the tears breaking from the corners of his eyes, and he could hear the agony quavering in Jon’s voice. Unbidden, he stepped forward to the centre of the stage, standing next to Jon and singing the final chorus with him, camouflaging the breaks in Jon’s voice. Jon turned grateful eyes on him, giving a tiny nod as the song finished, then heading for the back of the stage to wipe his face and try to get it together again.
After the show, Tico, Dave and Hugh were heading out for a few drinks, but Richie begged off - he had to get back to Ava, who was being looked after at the hotel. Jon also slipped away, back to his room, checking his cellphone again in case he’d missed it ringing. Nothing. He poured himself some coffee and wearily sat down, too tired - emotionally and physically - to even drag himself to bed.
Sunday morning, Sara was up just after five am, and she took a quick shower then switched the little kettle on to boil. She picked up her cellphone and turned it on, then hesitantly dialled Jon’s number.
Jon was dozing fitfully on the couch when his phone buzzed. He groggily picked it up, looking at the display. Sara! Quickly, he punched the button to accept the call.
“Hello? Sara?”
“Hi Jon.”
“Oh, thank God, baby. I’m so glad you called. I am so, so sorry for what I said, for the way I acted.”
“I just wanted to let you know I’d calmed down a little, and that maybe we should talk once I get back. If you want to, that is.”
“Of course I want to, baby. I need you, Sara. I need you, I want you, and I love you.”
“And, despite my best efforts, I love you, Jon, even though you are an asshole sometimes. Anyway - I gotta go - somebody’s picking me up soon, and I have to get ready.”
“Okay, baby.” Jon hesitated before asking diffidently. “Can I call you later?”
“Sure you can. Bye, Jon.”
“Bye, baby. Have a great day.”
Jon was grinning as he laid his phone down. His exhaustion had evaporated, and he felt like he could take on the world, but instead he headed for bed. He slept for about three hours, waking up full of energy and itching to do something. Throwing on some sweats, he took himself down to the gym, then came back to his room, the intensive workout not even taking the edge off his bouyant mood. He was just coming back out of the shower when the hotel room phone rang.
“Hello? Oh, hey Richie. How ya doin?”
Richie blinked as he heard the tone of Jon’s voice - it hardly sounded like the guy who, the previous night, had been all but ready to throw himself off a bridge.
“Morning, Jon. Can I assume you’ve talked to Sara?”
“Yeah, bro - she called last night - or it may have been this morning - I’m not sure. How did you know?”
“Oh, I dunno.” Richie laughed. “Maybe because you don’t sound so suicidally depressed any more?”
“I do feel a whole lot better.” Jon agreed. “You had breakfast yet?”
“Uh, Jon - it’s only just after eight in the morning. Of course I haven’t had breakfast yet - I was calling to find out if you were hungry, or if you’d just drunk yourself unconscious last night.”
“Hey! I had coffee after the show, thanks very much, and I’ve already been to the gym this morning, and - yes - I’m starving. You ready to go eat now?”
“Yeah - Ava’s waiting - very impatiently.”
“Gimme two minutes to throw some clothes on and I’ll meet you outside.”
Jon quickly pulled on jeans and a Soul shirt, grinning as he remembered Sara in one of those shirts. He put on a pair of running shoes and headed out of his room, meeting Richie and Ava in the hallway. They went to the restaurant and ordered breakfast, then a few minutes later Tico, Hugh and Dave wandered in, so they ended up having a ‘family’ breakfast - the five of them and Ava. Dave looked questioningly at Richie, nodding toward Jon, and Richie just grinned and nodded.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Chapter 74
“What was that?” Jon asked, looking around.
“Just the dryer. Guess your jeans are done.”
“Are you telling me to put my pants on and leave, now you’ve had your wicked way with me?” He demanded.
“Yeah.” She joked, leaning back in his arms. “I’ve got ironing to do.”
“I could help.”
“You can iron?”
“Well, no…..but I’m great at watching!”
“You’re a voyeur, huh? Oh, wait, you told me before that you were a peeping tom, didn’t you?”
“That’s me, baby.”
Jon finally released her from his arms, and Sara let her legs drop from around him. Looking at her, Jon reached to tenderly touch her breast, then ran his hand down her side before gritting his teeth and taking his hand off her. He pulled her robe closed and tied it.
“You’d better go, Sara, and do whatever you need to, before I tear that off you again.” He closed and belted his own robe as he stepped back.
Sara hopped off the table with a smile, stroking his face as she moved away. As good as his word, Jon sat and watched as she ironed, until Sara turned on the TV.
“Jon - I can’t concentrate when you’re watching me like that. Watch a movie or something. Please?”
Jon grinned and picked up the TV remote, flicking channels until he found something to interest him. Now that his blue eyes weren’t haunting her, Sara was able to give her full attention to the pile of ironing, and she finally managed to get it all finished. She took the pile of clothes and loaded them into her suitcase, locking it closed.
When she headed back to the living room, she remembered Jon’s jeans, and she detoured to collect them from the dryer. As she carried them through, she thought she heard Jon speaking, but when she came into the room he was just laying down her cellphone.
“Did it ring?” She asked, wondering why he’d lifted it.
“No. I was just making sure you had my number in there.”
“Of course I do. Here’s your jeans - all dry.”
“Yeah - okay - guess I can take a hint.”
Jon dressed quickly, heading for the door. Sara still only wore her robe, but she went with him to the door. Before opening the door, Jon drew her close for a long kiss, breaking apart with great reluctance. As he stepped back, he grinned and reached out to tug her robe open, gazing at her naked body.
“What?”
“I’m just trying to memorise you, baby - I need something to keep me going the next couple of weeks.”
Sara giggled. “Crazy man! Now, go, and enjoy yourself in Florida.”
Jon kissed her again. “How am I s’posed to enjoy myself if you’re not there? Okay, bye, sweetheart. You call me as soon as you arrive in the UK, right? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
As he opened the door, Sara pulled her robe closed.
“Are you sure you can’t come to Florida?”
“Jon! Please, baby, don’t make this worse than it is. Just go, and I’ll see you in…….when I get back.”
“Shit. Okay, Sara.” Jon kissed her one more time, then left.
He almost made it to the car, then an idea hit him and he stopped, considering. He turned around and went back to the house, where the door opened as he got there - obviously Sara had been watching him.
“I’ve got an idea.” He began, and Sara stepped to one side to let him back into the house.
“What now?”
“Well, I’d have to check, but I think it’d work. How about you come to Florida….” he raised a hand as her expression changed. “Hear me out, babe. Come to Florida and meet the guys, see the show. Straight after, I’ll have the plane fly you to the UK, and you’ll be there Sunday morning. How does that sound?”
Jon was beaming, sure he’d found the solution, and Sara hated to burst his bubble.
“It still won’t work, Jon. The hunts meet first thing in the morning, and I need to be in Cornwall for the first two. The meet on Sunday is at eight am, and if you throw in the time difference……well, it won’t work.”
“But, you could shoot the second half or something. Or the Monday one….you could…..”
“Jon, no. I just can’t.” Sara was close to tears - she could hardly bear to leave Jon anyway, and his constant badgering wasn’t helping. For his own part, Jon’s unhappiness was starting to turn to anger - he just wasn’t used to not getting his own way, not these days.
“But I want you to come to Florida.” he said almost petulantly.
“Like the song says, you can’t always get what you want.”
Even as he replied, Jon knew what he was saying was wrong. It was childish and it was unforgiveable, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.
“If you really loved me, you’d come to Florida.”
Sara recoiled as though he’d slapped her, tears forming in her eyes which were quickly blinked away, anger replacing the hurt look as her defensive walls - those walls Jon had worked so patiently to break down - came back with a vengeance. She didn’t say a word, just reached past Jon and opened the door. Tears were streaming down her face now, but her expression was stony.
“Oh, Jesus, Sara - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that!” Jon reached for her, but she backed away, not looking at him.
“Would you please leave.” She whispered.
“Baby……I……..”
“Get out!” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but the venom in her eyes made Jon back out of the door.
“Sara, please…….”
She slammed the door, and he heard the bolt, then the chain. For long minutes, he pleaded through the door, but there wasn’t a sound from inside, and he eventually headed for the car, dialling her number on his cellphone. She must’ve been watching him again, because the phone was picked up and immediately put down again. When he tried again, the line was busy, so Sara must have taken the phone off the hook.
Jon didn’t know what to do. He got into the Chevelle, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave. He tried her number again, but still busy.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “FUCK!” He yelled again.
He looked up at the house, wondering what to do. Maybe he should let her cool off, call her in the morning, or come by on his way to the airport. Of all the stupid, senseless things he’d done over the years, this had to be the worst. How the hell had their sweet goodbye turned into this? He wondered, immediately answering himself. ‘Because you’re a spoilt prick of a rock star, who always has to have his own way.’
Jon got slowly back out of the Chevelle and walked up to the house. He knelt at the door, pushing the letter box open, speaking through the narrow gap, trying one more time.
“Sara? Baby, please - listen to me? I absolutely shouldn’t - SHOULD NOT - have said that. I just wanted you to come with me so much - I guess I don’t handle disappointment very well. I,” he looked at his watch. “Shit. Sara, I have to go, to pick Steph up, but will you please just answer me? Please? Sara - I’m begging you - forgive me? Baby, I love you - and despite what I said, I know you do love me, though God knows I don’t deserve it. Sara?”
Still just that stony silence, and Jon couldn’t even be sure she was listening to him, that she could hear him. He couldn’t see that she was actually slumped against the door, her head just below his sightline as she listened, still crying silently.
“Baby - Sara - I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry and I love you. That’s it. Will you please, please call me, or just pick up when I call you? I have to go, but we do need to talk. Please, please, please call me - doesn’t matter when - my cell will be on, even during tomorrow’s show, so please call me. I love you.”
As he got to his feet, Jon became aware of tears rolling down his face, and he wiped a hand down his cheeks as he went to the car, glancing back, hoping to see the door opening. He got into the Chevelle, still watching the house, but the door remained resolutely closed, and it was with a heavy heart that he drove slowly away.
Inside the house, hearing the engine note fade into the distance, Sara got slowly to her feet and numbly walked through to her bedroom, robotically setting her alarm clock and climbing into bed. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to let herself feel so close to anyone - especially a self-centred rock star. She tried hard not to dwell on the feelings she had for Jon, instead bolstering her anger by replaying the hurtful comment. As her tiredness grew, though, she found it harder to sustain her anger, instead succumbing to her aching heart and crying herself to sleep.
Jon had picked Steph up from her friend’s house, and he was so quiet on the journey home that his daughter eventually asked what was wrong.
“Oh, I’m fine, Steph.”
“Yeah, sure you are, dad. What’s wrong? Tell me. You said no more secrets, remember?”
Jon sighed. He had said that, but he hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him quite this soon.
“It’s just - well, I told you I was seeing somebody?” Steph nodded. “Her name’s Sara, and we just had a fight. No, actually, it wasn’t a fight - it was me speaking before thinking, as usual, and I hurt her.”
“Did you apologise?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if she was listening, baby. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Of course I do, daddy. I want you to be happy, like mom is. You should go see Sara, tell her you’re sorry.”
Jon sighed again - his little girl was certainly growing up fast.
“I tried to, Stephy, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I’ll try going over there in the morning, but she’s leaving for the UK for a few weeks, for her work, so I don’t know if she’ll be there.”
“Oh, Dad, please tell me you didn’t say something, try to stop her leaving? You didn’t fight because you didn’t want her to go?”
“Yeah. You’re a smart girl - that’s just what happened - what I did.”
“Oh, dad! And you got pissed and said something mean?”
“Watch your language! But, yeah, I did say something mean. Can we please just drop the subject now? I love that you’re worried about me, but this is something I need to fix myself.”
Steph fell silent now, as they drove through the gates and up to the big house. They went inside, and Jon spent some time with his boys before heading on upstairs to pack some stuff for Florida. When he went to bed, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of Sara not coming back to him, or being in some kind of accident, and him never having the chance to win her back.
Early in the morning, feeling like shit, he dragged himself to the shower then dressed quickly and left, driving over to Sara’s house. As he drove up, he could see he was too late, that she’d left already, as the blinds were half-drawn, her car was gone, and the house had a lonely, abandoned look. Jon knew just how it felt.
“Just the dryer. Guess your jeans are done.”
“Are you telling me to put my pants on and leave, now you’ve had your wicked way with me?” He demanded.
“Yeah.” She joked, leaning back in his arms. “I’ve got ironing to do.”
“I could help.”
“You can iron?”
“Well, no…..but I’m great at watching!”
“You’re a voyeur, huh? Oh, wait, you told me before that you were a peeping tom, didn’t you?”
“That’s me, baby.”
Jon finally released her from his arms, and Sara let her legs drop from around him. Looking at her, Jon reached to tenderly touch her breast, then ran his hand down her side before gritting his teeth and taking his hand off her. He pulled her robe closed and tied it.
“You’d better go, Sara, and do whatever you need to, before I tear that off you again.” He closed and belted his own robe as he stepped back.
Sara hopped off the table with a smile, stroking his face as she moved away. As good as his word, Jon sat and watched as she ironed, until Sara turned on the TV.
“Jon - I can’t concentrate when you’re watching me like that. Watch a movie or something. Please?”
Jon grinned and picked up the TV remote, flicking channels until he found something to interest him. Now that his blue eyes weren’t haunting her, Sara was able to give her full attention to the pile of ironing, and she finally managed to get it all finished. She took the pile of clothes and loaded them into her suitcase, locking it closed.
When she headed back to the living room, she remembered Jon’s jeans, and she detoured to collect them from the dryer. As she carried them through, she thought she heard Jon speaking, but when she came into the room he was just laying down her cellphone.
“Did it ring?” She asked, wondering why he’d lifted it.
“No. I was just making sure you had my number in there.”
“Of course I do. Here’s your jeans - all dry.”
“Yeah - okay - guess I can take a hint.”
Jon dressed quickly, heading for the door. Sara still only wore her robe, but she went with him to the door. Before opening the door, Jon drew her close for a long kiss, breaking apart with great reluctance. As he stepped back, he grinned and reached out to tug her robe open, gazing at her naked body.
“What?”
“I’m just trying to memorise you, baby - I need something to keep me going the next couple of weeks.”
Sara giggled. “Crazy man! Now, go, and enjoy yourself in Florida.”
Jon kissed her again. “How am I s’posed to enjoy myself if you’re not there? Okay, bye, sweetheart. You call me as soon as you arrive in the UK, right? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
As he opened the door, Sara pulled her robe closed.
“Are you sure you can’t come to Florida?”
“Jon! Please, baby, don’t make this worse than it is. Just go, and I’ll see you in…….when I get back.”
“Shit. Okay, Sara.” Jon kissed her one more time, then left.
He almost made it to the car, then an idea hit him and he stopped, considering. He turned around and went back to the house, where the door opened as he got there - obviously Sara had been watching him.
“I’ve got an idea.” He began, and Sara stepped to one side to let him back into the house.
“What now?”
“Well, I’d have to check, but I think it’d work. How about you come to Florida….” he raised a hand as her expression changed. “Hear me out, babe. Come to Florida and meet the guys, see the show. Straight after, I’ll have the plane fly you to the UK, and you’ll be there Sunday morning. How does that sound?”
Jon was beaming, sure he’d found the solution, and Sara hated to burst his bubble.
“It still won’t work, Jon. The hunts meet first thing in the morning, and I need to be in Cornwall for the first two. The meet on Sunday is at eight am, and if you throw in the time difference……well, it won’t work.”
“But, you could shoot the second half or something. Or the Monday one….you could…..”
“Jon, no. I just can’t.” Sara was close to tears - she could hardly bear to leave Jon anyway, and his constant badgering wasn’t helping. For his own part, Jon’s unhappiness was starting to turn to anger - he just wasn’t used to not getting his own way, not these days.
“But I want you to come to Florida.” he said almost petulantly.
“Like the song says, you can’t always get what you want.”
Even as he replied, Jon knew what he was saying was wrong. It was childish and it was unforgiveable, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.
“If you really loved me, you’d come to Florida.”
Sara recoiled as though he’d slapped her, tears forming in her eyes which were quickly blinked away, anger replacing the hurt look as her defensive walls - those walls Jon had worked so patiently to break down - came back with a vengeance. She didn’t say a word, just reached past Jon and opened the door. Tears were streaming down her face now, but her expression was stony.
“Oh, Jesus, Sara - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that!” Jon reached for her, but she backed away, not looking at him.
“Would you please leave.” She whispered.
“Baby……I……..”
“Get out!” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but the venom in her eyes made Jon back out of the door.
“Sara, please…….”
She slammed the door, and he heard the bolt, then the chain. For long minutes, he pleaded through the door, but there wasn’t a sound from inside, and he eventually headed for the car, dialling her number on his cellphone. She must’ve been watching him again, because the phone was picked up and immediately put down again. When he tried again, the line was busy, so Sara must have taken the phone off the hook.
Jon didn’t know what to do. He got into the Chevelle, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave. He tried her number again, but still busy.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “FUCK!” He yelled again.
He looked up at the house, wondering what to do. Maybe he should let her cool off, call her in the morning, or come by on his way to the airport. Of all the stupid, senseless things he’d done over the years, this had to be the worst. How the hell had their sweet goodbye turned into this? He wondered, immediately answering himself. ‘Because you’re a spoilt prick of a rock star, who always has to have his own way.’
Jon got slowly back out of the Chevelle and walked up to the house. He knelt at the door, pushing the letter box open, speaking through the narrow gap, trying one more time.
“Sara? Baby, please - listen to me? I absolutely shouldn’t - SHOULD NOT - have said that. I just wanted you to come with me so much - I guess I don’t handle disappointment very well. I,” he looked at his watch. “Shit. Sara, I have to go, to pick Steph up, but will you please just answer me? Please? Sara - I’m begging you - forgive me? Baby, I love you - and despite what I said, I know you do love me, though God knows I don’t deserve it. Sara?”
Still just that stony silence, and Jon couldn’t even be sure she was listening to him, that she could hear him. He couldn’t see that she was actually slumped against the door, her head just below his sightline as she listened, still crying silently.
“Baby - Sara - I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry and I love you. That’s it. Will you please, please call me, or just pick up when I call you? I have to go, but we do need to talk. Please, please, please call me - doesn’t matter when - my cell will be on, even during tomorrow’s show, so please call me. I love you.”
As he got to his feet, Jon became aware of tears rolling down his face, and he wiped a hand down his cheeks as he went to the car, glancing back, hoping to see the door opening. He got into the Chevelle, still watching the house, but the door remained resolutely closed, and it was with a heavy heart that he drove slowly away.
Inside the house, hearing the engine note fade into the distance, Sara got slowly to her feet and numbly walked through to her bedroom, robotically setting her alarm clock and climbing into bed. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to let herself feel so close to anyone - especially a self-centred rock star. She tried hard not to dwell on the feelings she had for Jon, instead bolstering her anger by replaying the hurtful comment. As her tiredness grew, though, she found it harder to sustain her anger, instead succumbing to her aching heart and crying herself to sleep.
Jon had picked Steph up from her friend’s house, and he was so quiet on the journey home that his daughter eventually asked what was wrong.
“Oh, I’m fine, Steph.”
“Yeah, sure you are, dad. What’s wrong? Tell me. You said no more secrets, remember?”
Jon sighed. He had said that, but he hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him quite this soon.
“It’s just - well, I told you I was seeing somebody?” Steph nodded. “Her name’s Sara, and we just had a fight. No, actually, it wasn’t a fight - it was me speaking before thinking, as usual, and I hurt her.”
“Did you apologise?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if she was listening, baby. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Of course I do, daddy. I want you to be happy, like mom is. You should go see Sara, tell her you’re sorry.”
Jon sighed again - his little girl was certainly growing up fast.
“I tried to, Stephy, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I’ll try going over there in the morning, but she’s leaving for the UK for a few weeks, for her work, so I don’t know if she’ll be there.”
“Oh, Dad, please tell me you didn’t say something, try to stop her leaving? You didn’t fight because you didn’t want her to go?”
“Yeah. You’re a smart girl - that’s just what happened - what I did.”
“Oh, dad! And you got pissed and said something mean?”
“Watch your language! But, yeah, I did say something mean. Can we please just drop the subject now? I love that you’re worried about me, but this is something I need to fix myself.”
Steph fell silent now, as they drove through the gates and up to the big house. They went inside, and Jon spent some time with his boys before heading on upstairs to pack some stuff for Florida. When he went to bed, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of Sara not coming back to him, or being in some kind of accident, and him never having the chance to win her back.
Early in the morning, feeling like shit, he dragged himself to the shower then dressed quickly and left, driving over to Sara’s house. As he drove up, he could see he was too late, that she’d left already, as the blinds were half-drawn, her car was gone, and the house had a lonely, abandoned look. Jon knew just how it felt.
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