104 - The Distance

Richie laughed, one long arm laying claim to Petey’s waist.  She stood demurely by his side looking at the floor, as though embarrassed to be there.  “I knew you weren’t man enough to keep her, you selfish sonofabitch.  You take and take and take in every single relationship you’ve ever had.  The only ones of us still standing are well paid to be here.”

“That’s not true,” Jon argued.  “You’re my best friend.  You’d stand by me through anything.”

Again, that cold laugh echoed through the air.  “Man, you’re my meal ticket.  I let you believe whatever the hell you want up to this point, but now I have Petey.  She’s more important than anything else.”

He angrily pushed at Richie’s chest so that he was forced to let go of Petey.  “She’s mine!  She said she was going to marry me!”

“You idiot, she left you.  Petey realized how much I love her and that I’m not afraid to show it every minute of the day.  She feels loved and cherished now instead of like a contractual obligation.”

Jon jolted awake, eyes flying open, heart racing.  The room was dark, save the little bit of light filtering in from the windows.  His hair scraped against the soft Egyptian cotton of the pillow case as he turned his head to the left.  There, not a foot away, was the inky head and bare shoulder of the woman he was going to marry.

It was only a dream.

He shivered under his clammy skin and lifted the blankets so that he could scoot closer to her.  Feeling silly, he laid a light hand against her back just to feel her breathe.  Convinced that she was, indeed, real, Jon curled himself around her.  One arm draped over her waist, he hauled her panty-clad bottom against his nudity.  Desperate fingers sought out the warm flesh of her tummy under the tight, ribbed tank she’d worn to bed.  Somehow he managed to burrow his other arm beneath her so that she was completely encircled by his embrace.

Jon rocked her back gently against his chest, burying his face in her sweetly scented hair and listening to her snuffled breathing.

It stunned him to realize how much he didn’t want to lose her.  Yeah, he’d already made the decision to marry her and commit the rest of his life to her, but that decision process hadn’t packed this kind of emotion for him.  The thought of her walking away – walking into someone else’s arms – twisted in his stomach like a sharp knife. 

You’ve been left by one wife.  Don’t you think you might want to do things a little differently this time around?

He wasn’t going to be obsessed with money anymore.  He just wasn’t.  If he didn’t have his kids, family, band, Petey…  all the money in the world couldn’t take away the pain or the loneliness that would be left behind.

Remember where you were when she came knocking on your door?  Bored, lonely and questioning every single fuck up in your marriage.  

His arms cinched a little tighter, and Jon slid his leg between hers, trying to get closer.  He didn’t want to lose this quirky little woman who had rattled his world by stomping through it with her pint-sized combat boots. 

“Mmnnh.”

Petey stirred against him.  His jostling had finally pierced her blanket of sleep.    

“Shh,” he soothed, still rocking and touching soft lips to the ball of her shoulder.  “Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you, Baby.”

“Mm.”  She didn’t get a chance to display her infamously cranky morning temper before she had drifted off again.

He fought to relax himself, but as his fingertips touched the silkiness of her skin, he couldn’t keep from getting horny.  She was so little and perfect in his arms, and she was his.  Whether he deserved her or not, she’d given herself to him.  She needed to know how much that meant.  What he had been unable to say without feeling like a putz in the light of day might be easier under the cloak of darkness.

Slowly trailing kisses over her shoulder and down  her arm, his unencumbered hand roamed freely across her abdomen.  The faint sweetness of her lotion tickled his nose and inflated his arousal another notch.  He could never go to another circus.  The smell of cotton candy would have him sporting wood the size of a tent pole and everybody would think he was some kiddie-loving pervert.

That, however, was not going to stop him from indulging in its effect right now.

“Petey?” he whispered, gently bumping his erection against the cleft of her bottom.  The friction of the satin against his hard, primed skin sent shivers down his spine.

“Mmfph.”

Her disgruntled mumble transformed into a soft purr when his fingers slipped into the front of her bikini panties.  It was her hips doing the bumping when he slid his wide middle finger into her wet folds. 

“Ohh,” she let out on a gasp when his fingertip grazed her clit.  Her body went from soft and pliable to taut with need.

“You’re wet, Baby,” he breathed into her ear, the slickened tissue easily allowing him to slip a finger inside her when she parted her knees and gave him access.  “Were you dreaming about me?”

“Mm.  I dunno.”  Her voice was thick with sleep and had a dreamy quality to it.  “I think I just always want you.”

She wasn’t trying to seduce him, she wasn’t trying to impress him.  Hell, she was still half-asleep.  She may not even know what she was saying, but it slammed him low in the gut intensifying the desire coiling there.

“I always want you, too.”  His finger worked slowly in and out, savoring the hidden textures her body kept hidden.  “You’re so damn beautiful, just looking at you makes me crazy sometimes.”

On a sigh of appreciation, she dropped her head back to his shoulder when he added his ring finger to stretch her wider.  She tipped her pelvis forward, silently begging for deeper penetration.  Jon was glad to accommodate her and buried the digits as far as they would go, hooking them forward to lightly scrape against her g-spot as he pulled out again.

“Oh, Jonnn.”  A tiny strangled groan got lodged in her throat and she clutched at his forearm.  The tendons in her neck were stretched tight and he bent to nip at one.

“I want you to come for me,” he rasped against the fragrant column of her neck.  “Think you could do that?  Hmm?”

“Oh God, yes.” The shallow breaths she took bounced off the wall of his chest.  “Touch my clit and I’ll come for you.”

Jesus H. Christ.

He almost came all over the back of her panties. 

“You will, huh?”  The barest tip of his thumb scraped across the stiff, swollen nub, testing the waters as it were.

She sucked in a loud breath and bucked against his hand.  “Yessss.  I’m sure of it.”

“You’re gonna come for me if I diddle your clit?”  He barely touched it again.  “How about if I do that and whisper sweet things in your ear?”

“Sweet…  things?” Petey’s head twisted against his shoulder and she was trying to ride his hand like a wild stallion. 

“When you look at me with those big, soft eyes of yours and flash those dimples…”  He gave one firm swipe to her clit and her thighs clenched to keep him there.  “… I’d do anything in the world for you.”  Another light flick had her undulating and moaning behind closed lips.  “I mean it, Baby.  The soft way you touch me when I’m getting mad drains it right out of me, and the sweet taste of your mouth is my kryptonite.  Whether you know it or not, you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger.”

“Jon… Jon…  Baby, please…”  She was restless against him, seeking what he was deliberately holding out of her reach. 

“You ready to fly high, Sugar?”  His tongue swiped out to flick her earlobe as his drenched fingers slid free from her clutching muscles. 

“Yes.  I wanna come for you.  Let me come for you.”

“Shhh…”  he breathed hotly in her ear, his erection thick and tight against her backside.  He moved his fingers to begin a slow, erotic dance with the slippery nub that craved his touch.  “It’s almost time.”  His first two fingers took turns lightly brushing the pulsing arousal point.  “I want you to be very quiet when you come,” he instructed, intensifying the pressure for a brief second.  “Can you do that for me?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  Her breaths were bordering on gulps as he eased his touch and flicked lightly, back and forth, drawing a pitiful whimper from her.

“I need to you to be very quiet,” he explained, fingers picking up the pace to frantically swim in the flooded valley of her sex.  “So that when you come, you can hear me tell you how much I love you.”  His fingers drove with purpose - teasing, rubbing, tapping, until she she froze, teetering on the brink of release.  Anticipating.  Waiting for him to push her over the edge. 

Fingers still expertly manipulating her body, he began whispering directly into her ear.  “I love you so much Petey Diehl that it makes me ache.  I love everything about you.”  Toppling into bliss with a silent scream, she bowed against his hand, clamping her thighs together to keep him near.  Her body went stiff and still as the muscle spasms worked their way down her through her toes and fingertips.  “You make me whole, my beautiful, sweet-smelling imp.  I’ll never love anybody the way I love you. I swear to God.  Never.”

He continued to tickle her ear with uncensored words from his heart as she slowly came down from her high, limbs quivering in the aftermath.  Whether she was trembling from physical release or emotional impact, he didn’t know or care to guess. Jon slipped his fingers out of the dewiness, tenderly rubbing the moisture from them into the smoothness of her outer lips. 

Still panting for breath, Petey twirled herself around in his embrace, pulling his hand free of her panties in the process.  Both of her palms came up to cup his face and she swooped in, sealing her lips against his with a passion he had yet to experience from her.  Dampness transferred itself from her cheeks to his as she put her final seal on his heart.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips between kisses.  “I love you just like that.”

“I know you do.”  He pushed one hand into the long locks of raven hair  while the other wiped the tears from her cheeks.  Jon peppered her lips with damp kisses.  “I know, Baby.”

Pushing against his shoulder she rolled him onto his back and straddled his hard-on.  “Why now?” she softly queried even as she glided her satin covered crotch over his manhood.

“I wanted to deserve you.”

The expression on Petey's face was obscured by shadows, but she fused their mouths together in one of her intimate, soul-searing kisses.  Even while refusing to unlatch their lips, she still somehow managed to get rid of the panties and impale herself on his rigidness. 

They rode together in the night, a tangle of sweaty limbs and incoherent sounds of passion, driven by their love.  At their feet lay the dust of the last crumbled brick.  The last brick in the wall that had shielded their hearts. It was gone and they both lay bare and open, at each other’s mercy. 

No matter what happened with the rest of the phone calls that had been put off until tomorrow, Jon knew that he held the rest of his life in his arms.   If nobody else believed it now, they would in ten, fifteen, twenty years. 

What started out as the solution to a problem had quickly become the solution to so much more for him.

This would go the distance.

"I couldn't ask for more romance than that," she murmured sleepily, afterward.  "I told you all you needed to do was talk to Richie."

Jon smacked her on the butt and locked her up in a bear hug.  "Have I ever told you that I hate it when you're right?"

103 - Whole Lotta Trouble

He gingerly touched his nose, wincing when finding the pain still excruciating.  The emergency room had been out of the question, so he’d found a pharmacy for bandages and cleaned it up the best he could in a hotel room of dubious quality.  Eighteen hours later and it still hurt like the dickens, and Daniel had no better plan for getting what he needed.

Patience had led him on a merry chase these last three years.  Of course, it had taken nearly two of that to find out she’d left him the wrong information on the electrodes.  After painstakingly rebuilding the whole process and each individual component, it had taken that long to discover where the problem was. 

Damn both her and her social rebellion.

She didn’t understand that he had very powerful, impatient and short-tempered men waiting on this breakthrough.  It wasn’t even about the money any longer, it was about staying alive.  He’d made a commitment to these men and they bloody well expected him to keep it.  All she had to do was give him the chemical composition for the electrodes and he would disappear for good. 

Daniel knew she had the information stored in that biomechanical brain of hers, but he also knew it wasn’t the only place it would be.  There hadn’t been ample enough time to search every place in her apartment.  Not even enough time to find her laptop, where he was sure the information would be housed. 

Unfortunately, she would be more prepared for him now, and likely drag that damn Bon Jovi man into this mess.  The pictures weren’t doing the trick, but it wasn’t going to stop him from leaking them at the most opportune moment.  For his own personal amusement.

In the meantime, he was going to have to find a way to coerce her into giving him what he wanted.  A way that involved an unsuspecting, yet integral part of her life.  A way that wouldn’t allow her to refuse him.

And he had to do it soon.  Very soon.

Time was of the essence.

☠ ☢ ☠

[10:07 PM]JON:  I’m getting married on Sat.  Can you come?

Ten seconds later, Jon’s phone rang.  The only reason he looked at the screen was to find the Answer button.  He knew who the caller was.

“You’re getting fucking married, and you send me a text message?  A phone call was too much to squeeze into your busy goddamn schedule?”

“Hey Rich,” Jon greeted through his smile, winking at Petey, who was seated next to him.   Half-empty Chinese food cartons were littered across the coffee table, there was a muted football game on the TV and she was nestled into the corner of his penthouse sofa, her own phone resting on her thigh. 

They had done nothing but talk about logistics, schematics and details the last few hours.  The end result was a monumental list of things that needed done in order to make a Saturday wedding happen, but Jon didn’t mind.  He was very good at making things happen, and it was providing something for them both to focus on besides Daniel.

In the meantime, he was employing the best in the business to track down their problem.  These guys weren’t the ones you pretended not to know, but they knew plenty of those guys.  Jon was confident the problem would find a solution before he and Petey ever said I do.  It would help his honeymoon plans along considerably, seeing as he wasn’t comfortable leaving the country under the current circumstances.

There was a list of phone calls to be made that was as long as your arm, and they would divide those between ‘his’ and ‘hers’.  This first phone call – to Richie – was the exception.  They both wanted to talk to him.  Jon to get his best friend and brother-by-choice’s blessing, Petey because  she wanted to tell Richie everything.

“Don’t ‘Hey Rich’ me, mothafucker.  Text message wedding invitations?  For Saturday?  What the hell is going on?  Is she pregnant?”

Jon’s stomach rolled, wondering how many times that question was going to come up this week.  He glanced at Petey, answering, “No, she’s not pregnant.  It was a spontaneous decision.”

“Yeah,” Richie snorted.  “You and your ‘Let’s get married right now’ proposals.  I guess Petey should be grateful she gets almost a week’s notice.  Dot sure as hell didn’t.”

Don’t argue with him.  He wasn’t happy about you and Petey to start with, so why would he be jumping for joy over this?

“Why, Jon?  Why the fuck is it so important to do this now?  You can’t give her a chance to really get to know you?  To figure what an asshole you are so that she knows what she’s getting herself into?”

Jon forced a little laugh.  “I’m pretty sure she knows what an asshole I am.”  Her palm was warm against his shoulder blade when she slid her feet to the floor so she could lay it there in silent support.  “Things are a little complicated.  We would’ve ended up here anyway.  It just happened a little sooner than we planned.”

The warm little hand moved from his shoulder to his spine and down into his lower back, where she dug in lightly with the heel of it, encouraging the tense muscles into a state of relaxation. 

Under her tender attention, Jon told Richie the whole story – including the blackmail pictures and Daniel’s visit from the night before.  He and Petey had agreed that not everyone needed to know, but they wanted Richie in the loop.

“Kinky pictures.”  Richie sounded pained, and Jon couldn’t tell what was going through his friend’s mind.  He smiled absently at Petey as she continued her one-handed massage of his back.  The muscles were tighter now than they’d been at the beginning of the call.

“If they hit the media outlets, our marriage will minimize the impact.”

“So this is all about damage control.  Putting a positive spin on negative.”  Richie laughed humorlessly.  “Damn if that doesn’t sound familiar.  I thought we were past that point in our lives Jon.”

“Yeah, well I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same.  We’re handling it the best way we can.”

“Handling it.”  The guitarist’s voice was flat and disapproving.  “Do you even fucking love her?  Did you give her a nice proposal with flowers and candlelight?  Or was it a JB special? ‘Marry me and I’ll live up to my obligations?’”

He shouldn’t be surprised that his friend could make that kind of prediction after all their years together, but hearing it verbalized made him a little uncomfortable.  Even Jon’s single concentrated effort at the flowery words had been short and to the point. 

Petey’s fingers moved up to his neck, kneading the knots that were forming there.

“She said yes.”

“Yeah,” the usually affable man sneered.  “That’s about what I thought.  Where’s Petey?  I want to talk to her.”

“Richie, don’t stir shit up that doesn’t need to be stirred.”

“You mean don’t stir up your shit so that she smells it.  I told you once and I’m telling you again, you don’t deserve her.”

Jon’s jaw clenched in anger.  It was one thing to say it to himself, but for Richie to spit it out with such conviction pissed him off.  He childishly and deliberately refused to turn the call over to Petey.

“Maybe I don’t, but she wants me anyway.  Are you coming on Saturday?  Because if you are, I was going to ask you to be my best man.”

“She wants you because she doesn’t know you.  She’s had such a lousy love life up to this point that you actually look good in comparison.  I can’t endorse this.  I’m sorry, but no.”

“Is this what it is Rich?  All those years of blood on blood friendship and now it’s gonna be a woman to come between us?”

“Not a woman, the way you treat the woman.  I can’t let you do to Petey what you did to Dot.”

Jon emitted a huff of frustration.  “It’s different now.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?  I assume Petey is there.  Give her the phone.”

The set of Petey’s own shoulders was stiff as she tried to keep Jon relaxed.  She couldn’t hear Richie’s side of the conversation, but judging by Jon’s physical reaction, it wasn’t going well.  He was coiled tighter than a spring, ready to bound off of the sofa with the tightly reined energy that was building within.

There was a strangled growl and Jon was pushing the phone in her face, with a snarled, “Talk to him.  See if you can get through his thick skull, because he ain’t listenin’ to me.”  The Jersey accent thickened as she’d noticed it did when he got overly agitated.

She carefully accepted the phone with a nod and Jon bounded off the couch, heading for the bar and a bottle of Pinot. 

“Hi, Richie.  What’s wrong?”

“Hi there, my Pretty Dark Angel.”  He sounded just like the Richie she’d known from the beginning.  Thoughtful, tender, caring.  “I hear you’ve got a mess going on out there.”

“Things are a little sticky right now,” she admitted cautiously.

“How are your injuries from last night?  Do they hurt like hell?”

Petey touched her cheek, assessing the damage.  Her lip was sore, and so was her cheek, but it was a deep soreness prompted by touch.  On its own, it didn’t feel much different than it normally did.

“They’re not so bad.”

“Darlin’, you don’t have to get married for a rebuttal to those photos.  I’ll help you figure something else out.  Don’t be pressured into marrying him because he thinks it’s the best solution to a problem.”

His words pricked at her insecurities, and she turned to look back over her shoulder.  A glowering Jon was leaning against the bar, wineglass nearly empty already.

Stop.  Jon loves you, and he wants to be with you. That’s why he wants to get married.

“I’m not,” she said with more confidence than she felt, offering her scowling fiancé a tentative smile before turning back to the array of colored uniforms on the silent television screen.  “It’s more than that.”

“Has he said he loves you?  Did he at least give you a decent proposal?”

“He loves me, Richie.  He does.  It doesn’t mean he’s suddenly become a sweet, starry-eyed romantic, but that’s okay.  I’m wearing a very thoughtfully chosen pink diamond on my left hand, and that says a lot.  Jon just does things his own way.”

“I know exactly how Jon does things,” he muttered grimly before softening his tone once again.  “Sweetheart, I only want the best things for you.  Really.  I just don’t happen to think this is for the best.  Don’t settle for less than you –“

The phone was rudely snatched away.  She hadn’t heard Jon slip across the room in his bare feet, but  he was now standing by the couch and had reclaimed possession of his telephone.

“Dammit, Rich.  The why  is between me and Petey.  I didn’t call for your permission or your lectures.  Will you come to the wedding and be my best man, or not?” 

The corners on his flat mouth turned downward and the lines in his face grew more pronounced.  “I’m sorry you feel that way.  We’ll miss you.”

With that, he disconnected the call and threw back the last gulp of his wine.  “Well,” he drawled, bending to brush her temple with a kiss.  “This is gonna be fun.  You sure City Hall is out of the question?”

Petey hunched her shoulders forward, resting her elbows on her knees and blinking the dampness from her eyes.  If this was indicative of the reception they would receive from everyone else, maybe City Hall wasn’t such a bad idea.

Or maybe he’s not the man you should be marrying.

                                                                                                                                                                     

102 - Working on a Dream

The man is an amazing lover.

He had paid her ‘pay for that’ in a couple of different torturous ways that did nothing to discourage her from doing ‘that’ again.  She was boneless and sated, her hand gliding along his spine while he lay against her breast.

“Are you going to tell me what happened at Dorothea’s now?” Petey asked in the quiet aftermath.  Her thumb fiddled with the band on her engagement ring, its unfamiliar weight sitting heavy on her hand.

“Nothing happened,” was the sleepily mumbled reply.  He hadn’t slept much last night on the couch, she knew, and that fatigue combined with softness of her bed and her body was proving difficult for him to resist.

Petey brushed the damp tendrils from his forehead, her forehead crinkling.  “I don’t believe that.  You came out more pissed than you went in.”

“I wasn’t pissed going in,” he denied, his lips tickling her with their protest.  “I was preoccupied, worrying about what you were going to say.”

“Whatever.  You still came out pissed.”

His wide hand splayed over her bare stomach, its warmth searing her skin.  It made her not mind being uncovered.  Seeing his bare butt was another reason not to mind.

“Mm.”  He grumbled quietly, flopping off of her and bunching a pillow under his head.  “My mom is being a pain in the ass.  I’m gonna have to go see her.”

“Yeah?  How so?”  She reversed their roles, easing over to rest herself against his chest and toy with the hair dusting the flat plane of his abdomen. 

Chin tucked into his chest, Jon looked dubiously down at her.  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes.”  Petey’s unfettered shoulder lifted in a slight shrug.  “If we’re engaged I should start getting involved with your family, right?”

“Oh, Sugar,” he chuckled.  “I don’t know if you should or not.  I love my mom, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

She pivoted her head and arched a brow at him.  “Kinda like her son?” she inquired drolly.  “I think I can handle her.  So what did she do?”

From the sour pucker on his face, he didn’t really care for being compared to his mother.  “Yeah, well I guess we’ll see.”  He settled her into his chest with a sigh, and Petey felt his muscles tense beneath her.  “She’s giving Tony shit over Dottie.  Well…  I take that back.”  He huffed with disgust.  “She’s giving Tony shit, saying he’s trying to live my life through my hand-me-downs.  I swear to God, no wonder my brothers hate me.  They’ve been unfairly compared to me for most of their lives.”

“They don’t hate you.  I know Tony doesn’t, anyway.  He wants to do a good job for you, and you’re a demanding dictator, but he doesn’t hate you.”

Tightening his arms around her briefly, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.  “He asked about you.  Wants to know if you’re coming back to work.”

That was in the post-engagement pile of stuff to be sifted through, along with dozens of other things.  What had she been thinking, saying yes when there was so much unresolved?

You were thinking he makes you feel like nobody else can.

“The ring couldn’t be any more perfect,” she remarked softly, looking down at her hand and tilting it so the jewels caught the light.  “But this engagement doesn’t solve any problems, Jon.  It actually creates more.  I don’t think I can be held accountable for a post-orgasmic decision.”

“Whoa.  Just stop right there.”  Jon pulled himself up in the bed, forcing her to do the same.  Both of them propped their bare backs against the pale pink wall.  “You already said yes, so don’t get any ideas about backing out on me.”

Petey drew her knees up to her chest and burrowed her toes under the covers until they were all the way up to her chin.  The warm afterglow was dissipating and a chill was starting to seep in. 

“This is a completely impractical idea though,” she reasoned as he covered himself to the waist with the fluffy pink comforter.  “We’ve only known each other a very short time, and outside of sex, we really know nothing about one another.  What are our families going to say?  Your kids, your parents?  My parents?” 

“Does it matter?  As long as we’re happy, they should be happy.”

She cut him a look of incredulity.  “You can really say that after what happened with your mom and Tony?” Her hands began moving animatedly as the rest of her sand castle of dreams continued its disintegration.  “And what about my job with Tony?  Is that even an option now?  Is it inappropriate to go out on the road with you?  What if the pictures surface?  Married, engaged, or whatever, they’re still not something I want anyone to see.  And what about Daniel?  I don’t want to cower away somewhere, so what are we going to do about him? This brought more questions than solutions.  And…” 

“Jesus, slow down,” he muttered, pulling her into his embrace.  “We have to deal with all of that shit whether we’re married or not, and I’d much rather have you by my side while we do it.”

Petey swiveled her head to fix him with an unwavering look.  “I’m the only daughter and it would kill my mother if we got a quickie wedding at City Hall.  I don’t need a lot of fancy stuff, but I want a real wedding.  She deserves that.”

“Sugar, you deserve it.”  His countenance darkened as he studied her.  “You’ve put up with a lot of shit in your life.  I’m not trying to make marrying me one more thing to endure.  The fact is, I have a ridiculous amount of money, and that has the magical ability to make the impossible possible.  Whatever wedding you want can be put together in days.  Just because I want to do this now, doesn’t mean it has to be a City Hall quickie.”

“God,” she moaned burrowing her head into his chest.  “Why am I afraid Mom will ask me if I’m pregnant?”

He didn’t laugh like she expected him to, and she turned to search his face.  It was both stunned and thoughtful.  One hand rested on his stomach and the other on the lower curve of her back, but he didn’t move either.  She’d finally said something that gave him pause.

“I’m not pregnant,” she laughed humorlessly, misinterpreting his concern. 

“Do you wanna be?”

“What?”  Petey didn’t have any trouble hearing the quietly spoken question, but her interpretation was coming a little more slowly.

“Do you want to be pregnant?  If we get married are you gonna want to add to our family?”

Huh.

In the fray of questions littering her mind, that one hadn’t come near the surface.  It was a valid question, however.

Daniel never wanted children, and she had agreed to his terms when they got engaged.  That’s why she had been taking Depo-Provera shots for several years now.  Petey never expected to be anyone’s mother, but then again, no one had ever point-blanked asked her if she wanted to be. 

“I can’t really answer that,” she stuttered after a moment of silence, unnerved by the directness of his gaze.  Jon was looking past her face, trying to get into her head.  “I don’t know.  Do you want more kids?”

“I don’t know either.  I’m really too old to start over again, but I will if it’s what you want.”

As far as concessions went, it was markedly underwhelming, but for some reason it struck Petey with the clarity of fine crystal. 

He lacked any patience whatsoever.  He was a complete and total jerk when he didn’t get his way.  But he also had a soft spot buried a mile deep.  No, he wasn’t romantic and he didn’t make a big deal about it, but when it was important, Jon would take a step back and put someone else’s needs or wants first. 

It may seem like he was covering his own butt, but now she understood it’s why he really proposed – to protect her and the kids.

She lifted a gentle hand to rest against his chest, saying earnestly, “Jon, we don’t have to get married because of this… stuff.  We can figure another way to handle it.”

“No.”  His dirty blonde locks shook along with his head as he covered her hand with thick, warm palm.  “I admit I felt a little pressured and rushed into it, but once you said no…  I knew it wasn’t about our situation anymore.  It was about us, and how much I wanted you to say yes.”

His hand closed tightly around hers and he brought her fingertips to his for a quick kiss.  “I stand by my earlier statement.  I know this is a serious commitment that I promise to live up to.  My groupie days are over, Petey.  If we get married, there won’t be anybody but you.”  He flashed that brilliant smile at her.  “But I’m gonna expect you to honor your contract with Tony and come on the tour.”

She gave him one dimple in return.  “Answer me one question.  Honestly.”

“Okay, shoot.”

The dimple faded and she assumed an expression of impartial interest.  “Would you be so willing to marry me if I weren’t a Heinz-Kerry?”

“Dammit,” he growled.  “I’m not going to say this again, and once you get out of this bed with…”  He lifted her left hand in front of her face, ring twinkling. “… this ring on your hand, the discussion is final.  I’m not going back and forth and back and forth over this, so pay close attention.” 

The knuckle of his forefinger hooked under her chin and he locked eyes that were the shade of perfectly faded denim with hers. “I don’t want a cookie cutter political socialite.  I want an imp who isn’t afraid to give me hell when I need it.  I want a quirky, sarcastic, cotton candy smelling, self-proclaimed social misfit with pink hair who inexplicably loves me and my kids.  That’s you, Sugar.”

Her eyes welled, but she only smiled and blinked the few errant tears away.  “I’m not sarcastic all the time, but I do like giving you hell.  Fighting with you is the best kind of foreplay.”

Blonde eyebrows lifted, interest piqued.  “Is that what we’re doing?  Having foreplay?”

“You think you can get it up again?”

The infamous nerd laugh echoed throughout her bedroom and filled her heart.  It may be unconventional to the rest of the world, but they worked.  She loved him just the way he was.

He planted a hard, smacking kiss on her lips.  “You’re about to find out.  But first…”  Only one of the blonde eyebrows kicked up in question.  “We good?  You gonna be wearing that ring when you get out of this bed?”

“My God, talk about unromantic,” she pretended to complained, reaching over the side of the bed for Jon’s pants.  “Where is your phone?  You need to talk to Richie in the worst way.”

A loud smack glanced off of her bare butt cheek and he hauled her back into bed by the elbow with a threatening growl.  “Like hell I do.  I’m gonna give you this once, you little imp, so take note and appreciate it.”

Roughened fingertips brushed against the column of her neck, propping themselves there while his thumb nudged at her jaw so they were nose to nose.  “When you came knocking on my door all those weeks ago, I was nothing but a bored workaholic.  You brought a spark into my life that I’d been missing, and I don’t want to let you go.   I love you Petey Diehl.  So one last time…  Will you marry me?  Now?  This week?”

She bit her lip, fighting a giggle even as she grinned at him.  Richie seriously had to be the one writing the romantic lyrics in that partnership, but Jon had clearly given this a concentrated effort and she couldn’t be more pleased.  “Yes.  I’ll marry you.  Give me until Saturday.”

“Final answer?” He was understandable skeptical.

Petey inched forward the few inches it would take to touch her smiling lips to his.  “Final answer,” she murmured before their mouths locked together and she found out that he could, indeed, get it up again.

101 - The Answer

“The ring is gorgeous,” Petey admired, and he felt his chest puff out a little.  It deflated with the next word.  “Why?”

Standing there with the open ring box still in his hand, Jon silently swore.  He’d known this was going to happen.  Petey was far too logical to blindly accept a marriage proposal.  He didn’t particularly want to tell her what propelled this along more quickly than he’d been prepared for, but he wasn’t a liar.

“I love you.”  That was true.  He did love her, more than he would’ve believed possible in such a short time.

She laughed at him.  “You sure haven’t acted like it today.  You’ve been sullen and miserable.  I was pretty sure your proposal was actually a break up and that you were handing me off to your guitarist.”

“What!?” Angry brows slammed down over his eyes.  He damn well had not been handing her off to anybody.  “Richie?  Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because of that whole love song, serenading schtick you just spouted?”

Goddammit.  This is not going well.

He folded the box closed and crammed it back into his pocket so that he could step forward and put his arms around her waist.  Petey tried to avoid his embrace, but he held firm and lowered his mouth to her ear, speaking softly into it.

“Nothing has changed since this morning, or last night, or Friday night.  You kissed me, now you’re mine.  I love you, Imp.”

“Something changed,” she countered, still trying to escape.  “You couldn’t stand my hand on you, you didn’t want me saying I loved you, and you fucking proposed.”

“Dammit, Petey, hold still.”  He cinched his arms tightly around her until she was unable to move.  “I was afraid you were going to feel the ring box in my pocket.  It had me a little distracted.”

“That still doesn’t tell me why you’re proposing.  Now.”  She angled her head back and squinted at him accusingly.  “It also doesn’t tell me when you got that ring.”

Jon stifled a groan.  This was the part he didn’t want to do.  If only she’d been enamored with him enough to just say yes and be happy she was marrying Jon Bon Jovi.

If she’d done that, she wouldn’t be a woman you’d even consider committing to.

True enough.  So he gave his information freak the easiest bit first. 

“Jerry is a jeweler.  I asked him to bring some stuff over for me to look at this morning.”

The lights went on behind her blue eyes.  Odd that he was missing all the funky contacts.  It had been entertaining to see what she would come up with next.

“After you talked to your lawyer.  What paperwork is he supposed to be ready to finalize tomorrow, Jon?”

Yeah.  This was going to seriously work against him.  How could he spin Leo’s warnings in a positive way?  ‘Hey, Sugar, if those porn pictures get out, it won’t look so bad if we’re married.’  Somehow he didn’t think that was going to go over all that well, but what alternative did he have?

You didn’t do this for that reason alone.

“The paperwork is a fill-in-the blank prenup,” he finally admitted with a sigh.  “I was hoping you would say yes, and we could get everything filed and be married by the weekend.”

This time she caught him off guard when she shoved with all her might and sent him backpedaling a few steps.  “Jon Bon Jovi, you had better tell me everything and tell me now.  Because not only do you propose to me completely out of the blue, you expect to be married by the weekend?  What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

Christ.  Could this be going any worse? 

“Petey, I love you.  I wish our situation hadn’t rushed this, but things are such that it’s a benefit for us to be married.  Daniel’s a loose cannon right now.  If those pictures surface, they’ll have a whole lot less impact if we’re married.”

His little spitfire imp had been squared off, feet planted apart defiantly staring him down.  Now though…  She deflated just a little bit and her lips thinned.  If he wasn’t mistaken, disappointment dulled her vibrantly blue eyes.  “You want to marry me for crisis management?  But only after the prenup is signed so that your vast fortunes are protected when we get divorced in a day, week, or months’ time?  Classy, Jon.  Really classy.”

He grabbed her elbow, refusing to let her play it off that way.  Jon arched over her intimidatingly, his voice fierce.  “I told you that I loved you, but beyond that, I’m a man of my word.  I didn’t make this decision lightly, Petey.  This is a serious commitment and I will live up to it until the day I die.”

“Pardon me if your track record leads me to believe otherwise,” she snorted, jerking her elbow free and stalking off to her bedroom.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he barked, stalking right behind her.  She threw her coat onto the bed and quickly joined it, leaning against the wall with her arms and ankles both crossed.  He went to the side of the bed and loomed over her again, in an effort at intimidation.  “Dorothea and I would still be married if it were up to me.  She is the one who didn’t want it anymore.”

Petey’s jaw went slack and she observed him with incredulity.  “You’re an idiot.  Do you think that helped your case?  Telling me that, if it were your choice, you’d still be married to your ex-wife?”

“I’m sorry that I’m not a fucking genius like you are,” he drawled sarcastically.  “I was just trying to tell you it’s not all about the damn hearts and flowers.  I don’t enter into any contract that I don’t intend to live up to.  Period.  Marriage is a contract, and the prenup is as much for your benefit as it is mine.  I’d imagine you have some kind of Heinz trust fund tucked away somewhere.”

The bright light behind her eyes dulled, and she neither confirmed nor denied the existence of any such trust.  Instead she calmly and quietly told him, “I realize it’s not all about the hearts and flowers, but you’re going to have to excuse me if I want to be more than your next damn contract.  No, I’m not going to marry you, and I’d appreciate it if you would leave.”

Like hell he was leaving.  How many women would refuse a ring like that on sheer principle and give him a ration of shit over it too?  It only reinforced the fact that he wanted her.  Her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said staunchly, leaning over her and planting a fist on either side of her hips.  His mouth hovered close, but not close enough for her to execute the desire to bite him that lurked in her eyes.  “You’re going to have to excuse me if I want you and my kids to be protected.  I’m just a nasty, evil fucker that way – wanting the people I love to be safe.”

She pushed at his shoulders, trying to create more distance between them, but he refused to allow that either.

“Stop it before I turn you over my fucking knee,” Jon growled, gratified when she stilled and her lips parted on an inaudible breath.  Her pupils weren’t far behind, dilating in reaction to his words.  “You’re mine, P.T. Diehl.  Mine.  I’m sorry you didn’t have enough sense to fall in love with somebody better than me, but I guess it’s something you’re going to have to learn to live with.  I want…”

The color was high in her cheeks, half a dozen shades darker than the pale pink comforter under her butt.  Her cotton candy pink were parted invitingly and he couldn’t stem the thought that he was the only man who had tasted that sadistically sweet tongue. 

“I want you.  All of you,” he breathed before swooping in to devour her mouth.  Whatever argument she’d been about to lodge was lost in the sigh of acceptance when she allowed him to lap up the taste that was uniquely Petey. 

He didn’t know how he’d gone from fighting to arousal, but he was as hard and stiff as a Louisville Slugger.  She stirred things in him.  Her self-confidence, her caring, her bravery, her intelligence, her beauty, her independence, sense of self…  The list went on and on to make a woman that fascinated him on so many levels. 

Yes, he was being urged into marriage a little faster than he would have liked.  He would have liked to have the chance to at least try and be a boyfriend who could do the occasional romantic surprise.  But that’s not what was in the cards for them, and with her flavor singeing his tongue, he didn’t mind.  All they’d done was rush the inevitable.  As Stephanie said, Petey spoke his language.

He stripped out of his coat without releasing her mouth.  It fell to the floor while he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, straddling her hips and pushing anxious hands under his own soft black t-shirt.  It looked so much better hugging her curves than it did hugging his.  Her nipples were pebbled beneath it, telling him that the heat from their argument had stoked other fires in her as well.

Their lips tore apart with a wet, sucking noise and he pulled the shirt over her head.  It had no more hit the floor than his hands were burrowing beneath her back to unhook the bra, revealing her cotton candy nipples to his view. 

“So pretty,” he murmured before dipping his head to suckle at one.  The nipple distended in his mouth and he groaned at the sandpapery roughness of it against his tongue.  When he released it with a ‘pop’, he drew back to look at his handiwork, the tip shone wetly in the light of her bedside lamp.  The breast behind it was rounded and heavy, swaying with the motion of the mattress. 

“Jon,” she gasped when he took the other nipple in his mouth.  Capturing his head between her hands, she pushed him away and gave him a stern look.  At least as stern as it could be with glassy eyes.  “This isn’t changing my mind.”

“I’m not trying to change your mind.  I’m reminding you of how good we are together and what you do to me.  No matter how good the terms, a contract has never given me a hard-on, Baby.” 

Not allowing her time to reply, he bumped the aforementioned hard-on into her tummy and resumed his cotton candied nipple feast, tongue curling tightly around its latest victim.  He lovingly stroked against it, the rasp of nipple against taste buds drawing his testicles tight.  Her short nails scrubbing through his hair and abrading his scalp did their part, too.

Releasing the stiff peak, he flattened his nose against her sternum and licked the length of her cleavage.  His broad tongue swept beneath the swell of her breast before sweeping down to circle the indentation of her navel.  When her stomach muscles contracted, he unfastened her pants and slid the zipper down.  The enticing smell of her arousal was already seeping into his nostrils. 

“God your pussy smells so sweet,” he mumbled against her lower abdomen as he kissed his way into the gap left by her open zipper.  “Are you wet for me, Sugar?”

“Mm.”  She wasn’t saying much of anything, but her hands were staying busy by running through his hair.  “I hate it that I’m always wet for you.”

He chuckled, pushing his hands into the waistband of her pants and pushing downward.  “I’m a Rock God.  It happens.”

A firm, reprimanding hand pulled his chin and attention up to her face.  “Look here, Rock God.  You’re just Jon to me.  Good, bad or indifferent, you’re only a man.”

He felt his eyes soften along with his heart.  “That’s a big part of why I love you.  You don't buy into the hype.”

Jon didn’t release her gaze, but his fingers slid into the dewiness of her sex.  The intensity of his erection multiplied at the pool of wetness she was hiding.  He slipped up and down the musky valley, first with one finger, then two.  The first finger slipped inside her and he brought his thumb to graze against her clit.

“Thinking of you bringing Richie back here after the New Year’s party and fucking him in your pink bed is what sent me over the edge that night,” he confessed, pressing a second finger into her core to swim in the stream of arousal. 

“I only wanted you,” she moaned, arching into his hand.  Her hips flexed against the pleasurable invasion of her body.  “Nobody else could do this to me.”

The load he was carrying almost shot against the back of his fly at her breathy admission.  He slid his fingers out and climbed from the bed, stripping his sweater, jeans and boots in record time.  The added ‘thunk’ of the ring box hitting the floor with his pants registered briefly in the back of his mind, and then he was ripping her boots off divesting her of her pants.

He parted her soft, milky thighs so that he could more readily get at the cream churning between them.  Swiping at the saturation in her folds with the tip of his shaft, he allowed her to lubricate his thickness before pushing into her with a grunt of appreciation.  In such a short time, he’d come to crave the way her heat sucked him in and clung with its damp desperation.  He didn’t want to leave it, but knew that withdrawing was the only way he could enjoy the pleasure of diving deep again.  Each dive brought to life the soft whimpers of Petey’s that made him crazy.

She was already clawing at his shoulders in anticipation of what they could do together.  Jon savored the pain, loving the untamed wildness that she couldn’t restrain when they came together.  His nostrils flared with each thrust and her arousal climbed.  The rosiness of her breasts caught his eye and he couldn’t resist drawing the upper swell of one in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out and dig her fingernails into his flesh.  If she wouldn’t wear his ring, she would at least wear his mark.  There would be no mistaking his brand.

The tempo drove him.  The slick, sweet friction of their bodies scraping against one another in the most intimate of joining pulled him into its maddening maelstrom.  She was so wet that he glided effortlessly, allowing him to ride her harder.  The way her breasts bounced with each impact made him moan and pound harder.  Faster.

“Jon!  Ohhhhh….  Yes.”  Her hips met each thrust with her own and the intensity of their coupling was multiplied.  “Oh, baby.  Almost.  Almost.”

She was fucking gorgeous splayed out beneath him, lips swollen and parted, color tingeing her skin, head thrown back with abandon. 

Leaning back slightly, he burrowed in a hand without slowing his pace, bringing his fingers to forage desperately in her folds in a quest for the exact spot that would detonate her.  It was stiff and hard, and he jammed his thumb against it, rubbing in tight, hard circles.  It was the extra something she’d been looking for, because it was only seconds until she was screaming his name.

As though she were demanding his release, he gave it to her with a drawn-out guttural moan.  The mental image of coating her insides with his hot stickiness gave an extra buck to his hips and he took satisfaction in shooting another stream into her womb. 

Collapsing against her, their heated skin stuck together, and Jon rained kisses along the side of her face all the way up to her temple.  He was overwhelmed by the intensity of the last days and the emotion soaring through him.  Jon knew that, whatever happened, everything would be fine as long as she was by his side.

His breaths were still harsh when he found her ear and rasped, “Marry me, Petey.  Fuck the pictures.  I love you.  I want you with me.”

Tender fingers soothed the scratches she’d left behind as her own mark, and he felt her uninjured cheekbone rub against his as she nodded.  Her breath whispered across his face with a sigh of either resignation or contentment.  “Okay.  That’s a proposal I’m willing to accept.”

He immediately levered up on his arms, looking down with near disbelief.  “Really?”

The tender fingers moved to his face with a smile just as tender, and her dimples distracted him from the ugly bruising.  “Yes, really.”

With a grunt of exertion, he leaned over the side of the bed until he his fingertips were extended far enough to snag his pants, and, digging in the pocket, he located the jeweler’s box.  The mattress shifted when he pulled it free and put his weight back on the bed.  Jon rolled over, situating himself so that he was on his left side, facing her. 

Once more, he snapped open the box and then extracted the sparkling ring with a smirk.  “Thank God.  Who else would I give a pink diamond to?” he teased as he slipped it onto her finger. 

A bemused smile softened her facial features as Petey admired the way it sat on her hand. “You almost had that romantic thing going for a second, Bongiovi, but lost it there at the end.  I think that means you're trainable.  Richie could probably help you out with that.”

“Ohhhh,” he growled on a laugh before lithely rolling onto his knees.  His leer was nothing short of wicked as he loomed over her.  “You're gonna pay for that, you little imp!”

100 - Pink

Petey allowed her head to fall back against the Escalade’s leather head rest with a silent sigh.  It had been a long day, and it wasn’t even dinner time.

When she’d emerged from the shower, Jon had already been holed with the mysterious Jerry in his study.  Stephanie was finished with her own shower, and her brothers were all roaming the apartment, hungry.  Their hunger was momentarily deterred by Petey’s presence in their home and the dramatically different appearance of her face.  Blowing off the injuries as stumbling into a door, she told them she was there to feed them breakfast.

“Then why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Jesse was obviously going to be much more difficult to put one over on than his brothers.  Stephanie smacked him and widened her eyes meaningfully.  He had just been silently ordered to shut his mouth – and had his first course in husband training.

Jesse frowned, but said nothing further.  Intent on making her breakfast promise good, Petey investigated the contents of the refrigerator and cabinets, finding a few eggs and other omelet makings along with a wide variety of cereal.  Somebody had a thing for sugary breakfast food that bore cartoon characters on the box – a tiger, a toucan, a frog and a cuckoo all happily co-existed in the pantry.

“Toucan,” Romeo declared, after climbing into one of the chairs at the table.  His choice was quickly followed up with a “Cuckoo bird,” from Jake.

“You guys eat a lot of cereal,” she observed, removing the boxes from their cabinet and locating bowls and spoons to go along with them. 

“Not all of that’s ours,” Jake informed her.  “Dad won’t let us have the Frosted Flakes because they’re his, and he eats most of the Smacks, too.”

Jon eating kids’ cereal.  Who knew?

Stephanie found granola in behind the cereal and Jesse grabbed the box of Fruit Loops after Romeo got his.  They were all happily munching when Jon and Jerry came downstairs.  From the briefcase he carried, Petey assumed Jerry was a lawyer or accountant.  From the grim look on Jon’s face, she assumed the meeting had not gone particularly well.

“Hey,” she greeted him quietly, without looking up from the glowing coils in the toaster  when he joined her after talking to each of the kids.

“Hey,” he said just as quietly.  “I told Dottie I’d drop the kids off around noon.  Do you want to go with me, or do you want to stay here?”

“I’d rather go home.”  It was cowardly, but she wanted to avoid whatever was putting that detached look on his face.  He was steeling himself for something.

“Not an option,” was his grim decree, and the lines framing his mouth were deep and pronounced.  “You go with me, or stay here in a secure apartment.  There’s no way in hell I’m letting you stay alone in that apartment and we still need to talk.”

It made sense.  She knew it did, but she also innately knew that a bony hand to the face would be less painful than what Jon was going to want to talk about.

“If those I loved were lost

The Crier's voice would tell me --

If those I loved were found

The bells of Ghent would ring –“

Maybe Gavin would let her stay with him for a day or two.  Jon wouldn't like it though, and she was sure he would let her know that in no uncertain terms.  It was a disagreement better left for after the kids went back to their mother’s.

“I still need to go by and get clothes, makeup and my computer and glasses.”  Those would be necessary no matter where she stayed.

He nodded, placing a quick, firm kiss against the side of her head.  “I’ve never seen you in glasses.”

You still may not.

The words stayed in her head and she murmured noncommittally, turning to watch Jon grab an apple before he sat with Jake and Romeo at the table.  Steph and Jess joined them on the opposite side of the table and Petey leaned against the counter silently nibbling her toast, watching them all have breakfast and talk over top of one another. 

This was the side of Jon that she liked best – happy and relaxed.  Content.  He was a good father, and it was plain to see that he loved his kids.  Petey was the tiniest bit jealous of the comfort and closeness between them, and it made her miss her family for a moment.

About that time, Stephanie’s head pivoted around.  “Petey, come sit with us.”  To reinforce the invitation, she scooted down a seat so that Petey could take the chair across from Jon.  He looked at her with an unreadable expression that didn’t give her warm fuzzies.

Petey shook her head.  “Thanks, but I need to go make a couple of calls.”  She escaped to the guest room and pulled out her phone, not really sure who to call, but wanting a friendly voice.   A voice she didn’t have to explain anything to and could just talk to, pretending nothing was wrong. 

She called her mother, who knew nothing but that she'd returned to her life in New York after claiming a bout of hormonal insanity.  At this point, she was fairly certain that nothing she did would faze Teresa Heinz Kerry.  Mom simply rolled with the punches.

“Hey, Mom.  How did the fund raiser turn out?”

Petey spent enough time talking to her about campaign stops and political strategy that she was able to forget the oppressive cloud of dread for a while.  At least until her mother casually asked, "So what's going on with you and Jon Bon Jovi?  Your step-father said he was concerned about your engagement to Daniel."

She closed her eyes and quickly prayed for strength and wisdom for dealing with motherly concern and curiosity.  "We're kind of seeing each other.  He's part of the reason I came home.  We were arguing."

"Arguing so much that you engaged yourself to another man?"  Her mother was a shrewd woman, and she wanted her daughter to know she wasn't buying the fluff.

"Mom, it's complicated and I'd really rather not go into it now.  All I can tell you is that I love Jon and he says he loves me.  Can you just trust me, please?  I'll give you the whole story sometime soon."

Teresa let out a quiet, "Hmpf," before reminding her daughter, "I've tried my best to let you do your thing since you left Pittsburgh, Patience.  You may be a grown, intelligent woman, but I'm your mother and I love you.  That means I worry about you every single day.  Things aren't right - I feel it in my bones - and that makes me worry even more.  Keep that in mind when you're planning on when to tell that story."

So much for pretending nothing was wrong.  Now she had a paternal guilt trip to deal with on top of everything else.  A tiny sigh of frustration eked itself out, and Petey assured her mother, "I love you, too, Mom.  It will be very soon, I promise."

☠ ☢ ☠

Two hours later, she was piled in the Escalade with Jon and all of his kids, pulling through the gates at Dorothea’s house.  The children immediately opened the doors and slid out, ready to resume their usual lives – computers, iPads, toys and video games. 

Even when the back doors slammed shut, Jon didn’t open his own door yet.  He just looked at her inquisitively.

She’d been fairly quiet during the trip, only speaking to Stephanie a few times, or talking to Jake or Romeo as they continued to test her memory.  Jon didn’t have much room for judgment, seeing as he hadn’t said much himself.

“You coming inside?”

Petey didn’t have any interest in either the outrage or sympathy that waited in the big house on the river.  Dorothea would either be unhappy that her children were at risk because of Petey or sympathize with Petey’s injuries.

Tony’s Durango was in the drive, too, and he would logically want to ask about her work intentions.  She needed to talk to him about her job, but she wasn’t ready to do it yet.  Things were too far up in the air with Daniel somewhere out there.

“I’ll wait here.” 

The gates were closed and security cameras were all over the property.  It wasn’t like she was in danger within the confines of the Bongiovi compound.

He frowned unhappily, but refrained from expressing his displeasure beyond that.  “I may be a little while.  Dottie and I need to talk over a few things.  Are you sure?”

Turning sideways in the seat, she tucked one foot under her bottom and got comfortable.  “I’ll be fine.  Take your time.”

After watching her for a few more seconds, he finally nodded and eased the door open.  “I have my phone.  If you need me, call or text.  Or come in.”

All in all, he was gone about an hour, returning to the vehicle looking more disgruntled than when he’d left.  She assumed that Dorothea wasn’t happy with him for some reason.  Or he wasn’t happy with Dorothea. 

Her eyes flicked over the navy blue Durango. 

Or did something happen with Tony and Dorothea?

Petey couldn’t help but cover his forearm with her hand after Jon had buckled himself in.  “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

He had no more than glanced at her and Petey dropped her hand away, stung by the coolness of his voice and his actions. 

Don’t take it personally.  It’s just how he is.

“Jon.  Did something happen inside?”

The engine fired to life, and he forcefully put the SUV into gear and maneuvered the car toward the gate.  “It doesn’t matter.   You still wanna stop by your place?”

Now she was torn.  She wanted to make her escape, but he needed her.  He would never admit it, but he did.  Staying with Gavin was no longer the priority it had been a couple of hours ago.  Petey would stay with Jon.

“Please.”

He was completely closed off as they drove down the narrow two-lane road that would ultimately take them back to the parkway.  His right hand was on the wheel , left forearm along the edge of the window as he leaned against the driver’s door.

Steeling herself against his aloofness, she leaned toward that side of the vehicle, too, and placed a light hand on his thigh.  “I love you, Jon.”

The grooves in his forehead became even more pronounced and, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he grew tenser.  Then he tried to shift away.  “I know.”

Steeling herself hadn’t worked.  That more than stung.

That hurt.

It took everything she had to keep from snatching her hand back, but Petey determinedly left it resting casually on the muscular denim coated thigh.  She didn’t pet him or squeeze, but she refused to retreat.

That’s where she was now.  They were approaching her building an hour later and neither had said much of anything during the ride back to the city, listening to classic rock on the satellite radio.  She’d resolutely held her hand planted in place until her shoulder was stiff and he finally wriggled in his seat, practically shaking her off.

“I can’t stand this any more,” she blurted when they were parked in front of her building.  “I don’t know what’s eating at you, but I can’t take the tension any longer.  Either tell me what’s wrong or put it behind you.”

His closed face gave away nothing and he unbuckled his seat belt as though she hadn’t spoken.  “Let’s go get your stuff.”  Without waiting for her agreement, he slid from the vehicle and circled the hood, where he met her on the sidewalk. 

“Jon.”

“No, Petey.”  He gave a slight shake of his head and gestured for her to go ahead of him into the building.  “One thing at a time.”

She grumbled, shoving frustrated hands into her coat pockets as she stalked by him and scurried up the stairs, not bothering to wait.  Petey needn’t have worried.  Jon was right behind her and hit the landing for her floor only seconds after she did. 

Shoving into the apartment, she made it a point not to look at the mess in the living room.  She fastidiously ignored the blood on the floor, the tainted paperweight, the books and papers strewn everywhere and the hole in the plaster wall.  There was a Polaroid image implanted in her mind already.  A whole album of them was unnecessary.

Head down, she picked her way through the rubble and into her bedroom.  Jon was swearing under his breath about the mess when she darted through the bedroom doorway.  Unbelievably, Daniel hadn’t trashed the bedroom.  It looked just like she’d left it yesterday.

Underclothes, clothes, toothbrush, contacts, glasses and tennis shoes were stowed into an overnight bag.  She then reached under the bed for her messenger bag with the laptop and slung it over her shoulder.  Makeup she could live without for now. 

When she returned to the living room, Jon glared at her and kicked the glass poker paperweight with his toe.  “This what you hit him with?  Just like the one you gave me?”

Color crept into her face, but she lifted her chin defiantly.  “Yes.”

She despised whatever was going on inside his head.   It was making his jaw tight and the lines around his mouth deep.  He was angry and sullen.  The sullenness had lasted nearly all day and she had reached the end of her patience with it.

“Dammit, Jon, this isn’t my fault,” she snapped, dropping her bags on the floor.  Climbing over the books and debris she kicked the paperweight aside and planted her feet wide, facing off against him.  “Stop treating me like I’ve done something wrong.  If you want rid of me and my baggage, have the balls to say it already and I’ll go stay with Gavin.”

His eyes widened, then narrowed, causing furrows to appear in his forehead.  “First of all who the hell is Gavin?”

She threw up her hands with exasperation.  “That’s what you choose to focus on? Good God.”  Petey rolled her eyes.  “He’s a friend who thinks you have a great ass.  Now can we move on?”

He growled, pushing a frustrated hand through his hair, chin dropping to his chest.  “That’s exactly what we have to do.  Move on.”  Jon’s voice dropped low even as he lifted his face to the ceiling.  “God, I didn’t want to do it this way.”

The words knotted her stomach in the worst possible way.  Her toast was adamant about making its reappearance, but she forcibly swallowed the bile that wanted to usher it out. He was really putting an end to this.  She couldn’t believe it, but he was.  Three days after declaring his love, he was going to take it back. 

“Listen.  I already told you I’m not a romantic guy.  Sambora is the one who will write you love songs and serenade you with them.  That’s not me.”

Not only was he putting an end to it, he was pushing her toward Richie.  That was disgusting, and made her feel slimy. 

“I’m an obsessive, workaholic prick most of the time and nobody who has looked past the hair, teeth, eyes and ass should want me.”

Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, and she put a firm lock on her emotions.  He had to do what he had to do.  Crying about it wasn’t going to change anything, and she wouldn’t embarrass herself that way.

“But if you can overlook that…”  Jon’s hand slipped down into his pocket, and he pulled out a black leather jeweler’s box.  “… I’d like you to marry me.” 

Her heart stopped beating and her lungs became paralyzed.  She was sure she must have slipped into an alternate universe.  She’d been ready for a break up, but instead he said he wanted her to marry him. 

The box opened with the ‘snap’ of its spring hinge, the sound drawing her eyes as he revealed the most gorgeous ring she’d ever seen.  

Petey let her breath out and felt the painful resurgence of blood through her heart.

The fine detailing was stunning.  A brilliant center stone was flanked on each side by unique, trapezoidal diamonds that were just unusual enough to appeal to her.  They, in turn, were bracketed by a series of small round diamonds trailing down each side of the split platinum band.  All of that worked together to provide the perfect foil for the gorgeous center setting that was exquisitely perfect. 

The large, radiant-cut diamond easily weighed in at three carats, if not more.   That would have been stunning enough, but this particular diamond was…

“It’s pink,” she murmured, still dumbfounded.  He was proposing to her with a pink diamond engagement ring.

For the first time since early this morning, Jon allowed his lips to curl up just a bit.  “Yeah, it’s pink.  I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.  So whaddaya say?  Will you marry me?”

 If you're into the visual aspect, you can find a picture here