Thursday, May 23, 2019

Chapter 27




I want you he had told her and yet, she reached for him and his side of the bed was cold.  Again.  What the hell?  Shoving back the blankets Stephanie got out of the bed and pulled on her robe.  This shit has got to stop she mumbled to herself as she made her way out of the room.  If he truly meant what he said, why had he not made it up to bed?

They had resolved so much earlier she thought.  The day had been practically perfect after they found their footing.  Their calendars were mostly in sync, they had a plan going forward, though it had been made in pencil so changes and alterations could be made.  They had even set a plan in motion to take a family trip once Ava was done with school.  She had been thrilled with that announcement at dinner.  And Lily had been over the moon happy to have her daddy play with her and take over her bedtime routine.  Even if it ended up being for only a night, at least Lily had had her father’s undivided attention for that time.

A loud sigh escaped her.  So why was she wandering the house in the middle of the night to find her husband?

Rounding the corner from the stairs she paused, the music floated to her from down the hall.  The soft strumming of the guitar and low tone of his voice drew her closer.  At least he wasn’t crashed out on the couch again.  She stopped at the door and watched, waited.  He had one bare foot propped on the ottoman in front of him and his head rested against the back of the couch.  His notebook sat open next to him, the pencil lay askew on the page.  He strummed idly now, his eyes closed. 

And seeing him like this, the irritation that had driven her to go searching for him in the middle of the night disappeared as if it had never been.  She was reminded again of the man she had married, the man to whom music was as essential as breathing.  The corner of her mouth kicked up with a hint of a smile.  He always seemed happiest and the most at peace with a guitar in his hands.  

Shifting, he opened his eyes and lowered his gaze, catching a familiar bit of pink as he eyes slid to his notebook.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing down here?” 

“I could ask you the same question” she replied from her spot at the door.  When he didn’t say anything she moved into the room.  “Rich?”

He scribbled something in his notebook and closed it before setting the guitar aside as well.  “I was working, writing.”

She nodded and moved to sit on the ottoman.  “Do you even know what time it is?”

He shook his head, he knew it must be late, but he had no idea how long he had been noodling around in here.  A glance down at his phone told him it was later than he thought and he’d been at it longer than he intended. 

Chagrined, one side of his mouth kicked up and a single dimple flashed, “sorry, darlin’.  I lost track of the time.”

“it’s okay” she murmured.  Even after all they had talked about today, here and now, seeing him so caught up, she found it near impossible to be upset with him.  He was a musician, an artist and they never knew when inspiration would hit.  She was just going to have to learn to go with the flow when the music wrapped itself around him hung on with an iron grip.  This was the life she had signed on for, for better or worse.

Reaching for her hands he pulled them to his lips, kissing the backs of them.  “I should have been paying better attention to the time.”

Pulling one of her hands from his, she pressed her fingers to his lips, “it doesn’t matter.”  She shook her head for emphasis.  “Every time I see you so lost in what you’re doing it reminds me why I’ve always been drawn to you and Jon--well not him anymore--but what you do, where you go when you play, it’s, God, I can’t even find the words to describe it.  You have such passion for what you do, when you’re in that place where nothing and no one matters, that’s where the magic happens.”  That was also why she tried so hard to not be upset with being last on his list of priorities lately.  But as much as she knew he had an inexplicable need to do what he did, she had needs too.

“Magic?”  This was the first time he could recall that she openly talked about the fan side of her.  He had always been curious but she never seemed to want to talk about it.  He was intrigued and didn’t want to discourage her from talking.

She moved in on him, wrapping herself around him and settling on his lap.  “I’ve been a fan for a very long time and there are certain performances that stick out for me more than others.  The very first one that comes to mind is MTV, you and Jon front and center, acoustic guitars in hand.  The way you two played and sang together, the connection that the two of you had, that was the magic.  You have a rare gift and if you need to be here with your guitar and notebook instead of in bed with me, well, I’m not going to stand in your way.”

His hands gripped her hips and his gaze locked with hers, “but earlier you said…”

“I know what I said” she interrupted him, “and you still need to be better about managing your time, but I can’t stop you from being who you are.”

“Oh” he eyed her carefully, “and just who am I?”

A slow, sexy smile curved her lips, “Richie Sambora, guitar play extraordinaire.”

He shook his head even as he turned and tipped her off his lap and she landed on her back on the couch.  “You got that wrong darlin’.”  He knelt over her, his fingers loosening the tie on her belt.  “I’m Richie, your horny husband.”  He spread her robe open, taking in the picture she made in her lacy sleep tank and boy shorts.  His cock appreciated the view and made itself known by nearly strangling itself trying to get out of his pants.  He popped the button open on his pants to give himself a little relief even as he stroked the lacy edge of her panties.  “It’s been a while darlin’.”

She nodded her head, “too long.”  She angled up and pulled the robe off and reached for the hem of her tank, “you know we have a perfectly good bed upstairs.”  She paused and watched him unbutton his shirt, “a very large bed.”

“We can use the bed for the second round.  Right now,” he tossed his shirt aside and tugged at her panties, “I want my mouth on you.”  His eyes met hers.  "Now."

She lifted her hips and he slid the underwear away. Who was she to argue?

Monday, April 15, 2019

Chapter 26




The house was quiet when she walked in. She left her running shoes by the door in the mudroom and padded to the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, looking out the sipping from a second bottle of water when Richie came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll make you something to eat?” He stroked the nape of her neck lightly with this thumbs, dipping lower, to stroke along the first few tics of her spine.

Even as goosebumps rose on her skin at his light touch, she turned, “where is everybody? Why is it so quiet?” After weeks of voices and music floating around, the house seemed almost tomb-like today. Even Lily was quiet. “Where’s Lily?” She asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

His hands slid up and down her arms, “relax Sweetheart, Lily is with Ava and Jenna and I sent everyone else home. We have the entire place to ourselves today.”

She lifted hopeful eyes to his, “really?”

“Yes, really” he nodded. “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess we do” she agreed. She pressed her lips to his in a light kiss. “I’ll take you up on that offer of breakfast too.” She gave him a quick smile before turning to head out of the kitchen.

“How do you want your eggs” he called after her.

“Over easy, with an English muffin, please and thanks.” She jogged up the stairs, aiming for the quickest shower she could manage.

Twenty minutes later she wandered back into the kitchen. Richie was just setting their plates on the counter at the breakfast bar. “Looks good, thanks.”

He looked up and his eyes traveled up to her face and down to her bare feet. She looked good. Her eyes were clear, her hair was still slightly damp as it curled over her shoulders and down her back. She wore just a simple t-shirt and jeans that hung a little loose on her hips. The fact that her eyes edged closer to brown than green told him something was just slightly off with her though. “You look like you’ve lost a little weight there Sweetheart.”

She tugged at her jeans before she sat down. She had noticed that herself when she got dressed. Where she had once had curves, she was now leaner, her muscles were tighter, more defined. Her jeans were fitting a little looser these days. “I noticed that too. Must be from all the running I’ve been doing lately.” Her little stress relieving hobby hand turned into an unbreakable habit.

He settled on the stool next to her, “good thing I made you three eggs then. You don’t need to be losing any more weight.” He liked her curves and didn’t want her losing any more of them.

Her eyes widened when she glanced down at her plate, “I may not gain weight, but I don’t want to have a heart attack either.”

“The eggs won’t kill you, Sweetheart. Eat up.”

They chatted about everything and nothing while they ate. Lily’s latest antics, local news, the weather for crying out loud. This is where she had feared they were headed. Where they had once talked about anything and everything, now they were reduced to news tidbits and the weather. Not good. She pushed her plate away, she couldn’t go through this again. Once had been more than enough. Slipping from the stool she rounded the island, scraped the remnants into the garbage and put her plate in the dishwasher. Grabbing her tea she leaned over the counter and caught Richie’s eye, “are we going to talk about the real issue here or are we going to continue to comment about how pretty a day it is outside?”

Without a word, Richie put his fork on his plate and stood, copying her motions of putting his things in the dishwasher before grabbing his coffee and taking her hand, “why don’t we go outside and enjoy the pretty day while we talk?” He led her out of the kitchen, through the sliding glass door and onto the patio.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, sweetheart” he urged as the wicker chairs creaked and groaned while they settled in. If he had to guess, he’d bet his entire portfolio that she was having a hard time adjusting to his schedule and all the people that have been traipsing in and out of the house of late, but he wasn’t 100% on that.

Setting her tea on the table between them, she leaned forward. “First and foremost, I want you to know that I have no problem with the writing and making of music that is going on in this house.” She caught his eye, “honestly, I don’t.” It was as much a part of who he was as his eye color or his shoe size. It just was.

He set his coffee mug down next to her cup. Good thing he didn’t make that bet. He’d be broke and homeless. “Then what is the problem?”

She stood and moved to the edge of the overhang where shadow met sun, staring at the sparkling still water of the pool. “Time, Rich. Time is my problem.”

He angled around to look at her, she sounded so distant, so sad. “Time?”

She turned to look at him, “the busier you got and the more people you had coming in and out had me taking on more hours and projects with Habitat. We’re both so busy now that we have no time for each other or the girls.” The mom guilt weighed heavily now that she actually said the words out loud. She was neglecting Lily and Ava and that was not acceptable.

Moving back to her chair, she sat down again. “Do you realize this is the first conversation we’ve had in nearly a week that’s been more than ‘good morning’ or ‘hey, how are you?’?”

Richie frowned, that couldn’t be right, could it?

“You haven’t even made it to bed for the last three or four nights.” And that stung nearly as much as coming in second on his planner to working and playing with Orianthi.

“I guess I didn’t realize…” he trailed off. That wasn’t quite the truth. He had been finding it easier to just crash on the couch after his friends left rather than making the effort to get himself up the stairs and into their bed. He felt less guilty about all the time he was spending with Ori and the guys if he avoided the obvious. And yet, here they were smack dab in the middle of it. He mentally berated himself. Idiot. Some plan.

“And I overheard you talking about touring this summer?” She continued on wanting to get everything out and on the table before they started figuring out how to fix this mess. “Were you going to mention it to me before you packed your suitcase and guitar to head to the airport?”

He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she rolled right over him.

“And forget about me for a minute, what about Ava and Lily?”

“What about them?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you leave your other job - she still had a hard time reconciling the fact that he was no longer in Bon Jovi - to spend more time with your family?”

“Yeah, and?”

“And?” Her voice rose with frustration. “When was the last time you spent any time with either of them? I know Ava’s old enough to understand your schedule and not be all that upset that you’re not spending time with her, but Lily’s not.” She left herself out of the equation once again.

His frown deepened. He had been so wrapped up in his own thing he had effectively blocked everything else out. Fuck.

“That’s what I thought” she murmured at the look on his face. “You haven’t been thinking of anything or anyone else at all.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you?”

“It’s not that,” he tried to explain.

“Then what is it?” She countered.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to let me talk or are you going to keep interrupting me?”

“Sorry.” She picked up her tea and sipped, “please continue.”

He had to remember that she hadn’t been around for this before. She had seen only a tiny fraction of what the writing and recording process had been with him and Jon and it wasn’t anything like what he was doing now. He studied her for a long moment, thinking about everything she had said.

“Well” she prompted, setting her now cold tea on the table. Pulling her hand back, her bracelet skimmed across the glass top, the charms jangling as they went. She re-situated it on her wrist and waited.

His gaze shifted to her wrist and the bracelet there, landing on the charm he had given her after their trip to Disneyland with the girls. That was after he tried to put the music ahead of his family the first time. He had asked her then to believe and here he was fucking things up again. He had promised to do better and, looking back, he had not lived up to his word. Not by a long shot.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He reached over and took her hand. “Apparently, my time management skills need some serious work.” He lifted her hand and touched the Mickey and Minnie charm. “The girls deserve better” he raised his eyes to hers, “you deserve better.”

She studied his face for a moment, still so boyishly handsome with just a hint of the dimples waiting to break free at the first smile. The band around her heart loosened a little. They would get back on even ground she was sure of it. Pulling her hand from his, she stood and rounded the table, taking the seat next to him. Curling her leg under her, she angled toward him. “So, how are we going to fix this?”

He pulled out his phone and held out his hand, “give me your phone.”

She dug it out of her pocket and placed it in his outstretched hand, “what are you going to do?”

He opened both phones and found the calendar apps on each. “I’m going to sync our calendars for starters. That way we’ll know what the other is doing and when there are places we need to be or if the girls have anything going on that we need to be at. Then I think it’s time I hired a new assistant, at least part time.” He hadn’t had anyone since he let Denise go and maybe it was time to find someone new. He didn’t need anyone on a full time basis, but just a few hours a week should help keep him on track.

“Okay” Stephanie agreed. “And I’m going to cut way back with Habitat. I thought about giving it up entirely, but I just can’t do that. So I’m going to let them know that I’m only available a couple days a week for a while.”

He handed her back her phone, “you sure about that? I know how much you enjoy that work.”

“I’m sure. As much as I love it, I love you and the girls more. And Lily, at least, needs me here more than I need to be there.”

As morning shifted into early afternoon, they talked and worked out the bulk of their issues. There was just one thing that was Stephanie was still stuck on and when they circled back to the music, she couldn’t ignore it any longer. But she wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up without sounding like she was accusing him of something.

Richie had been going on about some of the songs they were working on and how good a player Orianthi was when he noticed the look that crossed her face. “What?”

Stephanie furrowed her brow, “what ‘what?’”

“What was that look for?”

“What look?”

He reached out and lightly stroked the space between her eyebrows. “You got all wrinkly here and you look like you just sucked on a lemon.”

Her pursed lips turned into a frown. “I have to ask you a question and I KNOW you’re not going to like it.”

“Just ask Sweetheart.” How bad could it be?

“Okay, here goes, but just remember, you told me to ask.”

He chuckled and waved her on, “ask already.”

“Is there something going on between you and Orianthi that I should know about?” She closed her eyes and prayed for the answer she desperately wanted to hear.

Richie’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. He wasn’t sure what she had been wanting to ask, but it hadn’t been that. He waited until she opened her eyes to say anything. “Are you asking me if I’m cheating on you?” He paused, “with her?”

She just nodded her head.

“Come here.” Taking her hand he tugged her over and on to his lap. “Have I done something to put that thought in your head?”

“No…maybe…not really…” she sighed. “I don’t know.” He didn’t answer the question and she squirmed and tried to get up.

“Uh uh, you stay right here, sweetheart.” He tightened his grip, “now why don’t you tell me what put that thought in your head.”

Her fingers walked up the button placket of his shirt, pausing to scratch lightly at the patch of skin showing at his chest. “It wasn’t any one thing, but mostly its how you are with her.” She kept her gaze on her fingers, afraid to look up at him as she talked. “You’re always with her, and you look at her like you look at me. Or at least the way you used to look at me. It’s been a awhile since we were in the same room together for longer than two minutes.”

Pulling her hands from his chest he brought them to his lips and kissed the backs of them, lingering right above her wedding set. “You see this?” He angled her hand so she could see her ring.

She nodded.

“I liked it enough to put a ring on it” he aimed for a bit of levity with the Beyonce reference.

Stephanie smirked. “Nice.”

“Seriously Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about with me and Ori. I’m having fun and learning to be a better player from her and we have a musical connection like I can’t explain, but that’s it.” Looking at her face he could still see a shadow of doubt. He re-situated her on his lap so she was straddling him, “I don’t want her.” He pressed his hips up to meet hers. “I want you.”

Friday, February 22, 2019

Chapter 25



Sand flew up behind her, sticking to her legs as she ran on the hard-packed sand at the edge where the water was just out of reach.  Her heart pounded, keeping tempo with the pounding of her feet.  When her app indicated she had hit the two mile mark, she pushed for another mile.  Running had become her alone time, her clear-her-head-and-keep-her-sane time, her escape from everything.  Her pace wouldn’t win her any races, but that didn’t matter.  Slow and steady was her mantra most days, and there was nothing quite like an early morning run on a nearly deserted southern California beach to start her day. 

At the three-mile mark she turned, heading back the way she came, moving slightly higher on the sand, where the tide wouldn’t roll over the tops of her shoes.  Trying to outrun the last few weeks, she pushed harder before finally slowing down, easing into a walk the closer she got to her starting point.   When she got to where she had left her blanket, towel and water bottle she stopped, bending forward to rest her hands on her knees.  She drew in a deep breath and let it out.  She did it again.  Reaching for the blanket she spread it out and dropped to sit, her legs spread wide as she bent over one then the other, stretching out her rapidly cooling muscles. 

Drawing her legs into the butterfly position, she pressed on her knees and leaned forward before moving into child’s pose for a final stretch.  Sitting up she found her water bottle and drank down half of it as she stared out at endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

The ocean breeze ruffled her ponytail and she picked up the towel and wiped the sweat off the back of her neck and her chest.  The weeks since they’d been back from Kentucky had been beyond crazy.  She had been working on three different habitat projects and Richie was working non-stop it seemed.  He had even instituted a new “open door” policy at the house.  She never knew just who was going to be coming or going at any given time of the day.  Or night for that matter.   There was always someone in their house, be it musician, producer, songwriter or the delivery guy from whatever take out place they ordered from.

A car door slammed somewhere behind her. 

And it felt like she and Richie hadn’t spent any significant time together since the weekend at the Derby.  He hadn’t even made it to bed in the last few nights.  They were like two ships passing in the hallways.  She frowned and finished her water, dropping the bottle to the blanket.  It wasn’t the first time she had dealt with this.  When Mark had been alive, they had worked different shifts, her days, him evenings.  It worked out when Ben had been a baby, but it took a toll on their marriage.  After a lot of hard work and long talks, she and Mark had found their footing again, and then...

And now Richie was working all kinds of crazy hours and she had heard talk of possibly touring, taking the music to the fans after they released the EP.

Realistically she knew he wasn’t ignoring her, not on purpose anyway.  But when he didn’t come to bed at night, when they didn’t have a real conversation beyond “good morning” and/or “good night” she had to wonder if she was really enough for him.  She had nothing to offer him musically except for her ears.  She knew what sounded good to her and knew what she liked, but other than that, she had nothing. She didn’t play an instrument, definitely did not sing unless she was alone in the car and she didn’t write unless it was the grocery list, so how could she be what he needed?

And what about Orianthi?  She had seen them together, laughing, writing, singing.  Their heads together working out the finer details of different songs.  She hated that she was jealous of the time that woman was getting with Richie.  She wasn’t a jealous person by nature.  But there was just something in the way the two of them were when they were together that continued to rub her the wrong way.

She huffed out a breath, hating the turn her thoughts had taken.  But the doubts that had only been niggling whispers early on in their relationship had become full-blown worries in the last few weeks.  She had been able to tune out the whispers, but as much as she had tried, she hadn’t been able to outrun the worry.  Dragging in a deep breath she held it for a brief count of three and released it on a resolution. 

She sat up straighter, the hair at the back of her neck bristled.  She could feel eyes on her.  Standing, she shook out the blanket and haphazardly folded it before grabbing the towel and empty bottle.  When she straightened she found Richie watching her from the opening in the concrete barricade.  She didn’t say anything, just watched him watching her.

He moved through the opening, moving toward her, not stopping until the tips of his shoes touched the toes of her sneakers.  “I thought I might find you here.”  When he hadn’t found her in their room or in their exercise room, he hadn’t hesitated in driving here to find her.  She was a creature of habit about certain things.

It wasn’t like she had been hiding from him.  “Yep, you found me.”  She was kind of surprised he had come looking for her.   They had been doing their own thing so much lately she wasn’t sure he even knew she had left the house that morning.

With his thumb and forefinger he lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his.  Seeing her witchy eyes more brown than green unnerved him.  He knew what that meant and he didn’t like it.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She was tempted to say nothing, to keep things on an even keel for him, but she was tired.  Tired of feeling like this.  “I miss you.”  She felt her eyes mist and damned herself for letting her emotions get that close to the surface.

Pulling his fingers from her chin, he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her against him, holding her tight. He had to keep reminding himself that she was new to this side of his life. Things would get better, they would get better he told himself as he held her, because he sure as hell didn’t want them to get any worse.