Sid sailed into the kitchen and sang out his normal “good morning Cil.” He got a barely mumbled “hello” in return. Cilla didn’t even turn around. His eyes roamed the room. The pans were cleaned and stacked, the ovens were cooling, Cilla had her back to him while she pecked away at the computer.
Something wasn’t right. He poked his head out the door and checked the cases. They were full. He looked back over at her. She had to have been here longer than usual to have everything loaded up, washed and put away already. She was brooding about something.
Sid grabbed his apron. “Rough night?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
He moved to look over her shoulder at what she was doing and she dropped the top of the laptop down. Turning her head slightly she talked at him over her shoulder. “Can I help you?”
Sid put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. She was pale, her eyes were red and the shadows under them were deeper than he ever remembered seeing before. “Oh honey,” concern colored his voice, “what is it? What happened? Did you and Jon have a fight or something?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Sid kept watching her, waiting. She would tell him. Eventually.
She pulled away from him, turning to busy herself with a ball of dough she had mixed up earlier. “Can Josie help us out for a few days next week?” Josie was Sid’s mother.
“I can ask, why?” He knew she was going to New Orleans, but thought it was only for the weekend. “Are you staying in New Orleans longer than you thought?”
She shook her head. “No.” I wish.
He turned her to face him again. “What is going on Cilla?”
“I need” emotion flooded her voice and she took a breath to calm herself down. She tried again. “I need to have a procedure done and, depending on how it goes, I may need a couple days to recuperate.”
“Procedure? What kind of procedure? Talk to me Cil. You’re scaring me here.” He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but all of a sudden he didn’t feel good about it at all.
Cilla sighed and sat down heavily on the stool. “When I went to the doctor yesterday she found a mass behind my pelvis and several smaller ones on my ovaries. She wants to biopsy them and find out exactly what is going on. I need to have a laparotomy. She wants to do it as soon as possible.”
He moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “Mom will come, don’t worry about that. Did you tell Jon? What did he say? Is he going to be there with you or do you need me to come?”
Turning her head she kissed his bicep and gave his arm a squeeze with her hand. He was always there when she needed him. She didn’t even have to ask. “Just let your mom know that we need her help.” She ignored the rest of what he asked and tipped her head up to look at him, “okay?”
He gave a resigned sigh. She could be the most stubborn woman. “Okay, but you’re going to tell Jon, right?”
By way of answer she glanced at the clock. “Let’s just open up right now, all right?”
Sid tried throughout the day to get her to convince her to tell Jon, but she wouldn't give him a straight answer. By the end of the day he was ready to strangle her. "You need to tell him."
Cilla locked the front door. "No, I don't."
He followed her around to the stairs leading up to her apartment. "If you love him you need to tell him."
She whirled around, "No Sid, I don't need to tell him. I do love him and that's why I won't tell him. I won't let him watch me die!"
Sid pushed her to sit on the steps. "You're not going to die. Don't even talk like that. You can't die. What would I do without you? And who would make my wedding cake?" He didn’t even want to entertain the thought of her dying.
Cilla chuckled for the first time since going to the doctor the day before. Leave it to Sid to lighten her mood. Even if it was only for a moment. "But what if I do Sid? What if I have this horrible disease growing and eating away at my insides? I can't ask him to deal with that. You remember what it was like with my grandmother and my mother. I can't bear the thought of Jon going through that." She sighed, tears slid down her cheeks. "I just can't tell him."
Sid wrapped his arm around her. "I don't think you're giving Jon enough credit. The man is so crazy in love with you Cil. He'd want to know. He'd want to be there for you." He paused, “if you don't tell him I will."
She threw his arm off her shoulder and stood facing him. "You will not! It's not for you to tell Sid. I swear I will make you a pineapple upside down cake for your wedding before disowning you if you breathe even one word of this to him."
He grabbed her flailing hands, "listen to me Cil. He's the best man you could have ever asked for. I'll risk our friendship if I have to. Don't make me do that. I love you and would hate to lose you but he makes you happy. Happier than you have ever been. You'll need that good energy to fight whatever is going on in your body. Don't let it go. Don't let him go."
When she didn’t say anything more Sid kissed her on the cheek and headed for home.
Cilla sat on her steps for a long while after he left. She would never disown Sid. She couldn’t. She’d be pissed at him for a good long while though but … she sighed. Was he right, should she tell Jon?
She dragged herself up the stairs. How do you tell the person you love most in the world that you may very well have a disease that will slowly kill you? Even someone as strong as Jon would surely fall apart. She didn’t want to cause him that kind of pain.
She thought about what Sid had said while she tossed things in her bag. She would need all the positive energy and laughter to help her get through this. Maybe she should tell Jon. Maybe she would.
She sat down on the edge of the bed. The stack of papers from the doctor sat staring at her from the night table. No, she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet. She’d have the laparotomy next week and see where things stood after that. Then maybe she would have the words to tell him.
Looking at her half-packed bag she sighed. She just hoped she could get through the weekend.
Chapter 79
Chapter 78
Closing her phone, Cilla shifted her gaze out the window watching the world slip by. She had just hung up with Jon. He and the kids were having a fantastic time frolicking along the shores of Greece. They were coming back the next day then she Jon, and his two oldest children would be leaving for New Orleans Friday morning.
She sighed. She was in a stifling cab making her way to her doctor’s office; definitely not her idea of fun. She had known for weeks that something wasn’t right with her. Now, it was time to find out exactly what was going on. She only hoped it wasn’t anything serious.
The cab stopped in front of the medical building on 75th Street. Cilla got out and paid, looking up at the building. “Here we go” she thought to herself as she went inside.
The waiting room was empty and still Cilla had to wait. She thumbed through an ancient magazine. She had other things to do this afternoon. Would they ever call her back?
Finally a woman about her own age dressed in a floral scrub top and shocking pink pants came and took Cilla back. She was weighed, had her blood pressure taken, peed in a cup, all the usual checkpoints on the nurse’s chart. The nurse left her alone in the exam room.
Wearing only the worthless paper gown Cilla sat on the edge of the table. The room wasn’t cold but, glancing around at the charts and posters on the wall and the counter, her nerves started to get the better of her. Please don’t let anything be wrong she silently prayed. Rubbing her arms she picked at the paper cover on the table while she waited.
Relief washed through her when she finally heard the quiet knock and the door open.
“Good morning Cilla. How are you today?”
Dr. Shortle had been Cilla’s doctor for several years and she felt immediately at ease. “You’ll have to tell me because I’m not really sure.”
Dr. Shortle washed her hands and came to stand in front of her. “What seems to be the problem today?”
Cilla went through her list of symptoms, the fatigue she couldn’t shake, the ache in her lower back, the frequent trips to the bathroom, feeling bloated and achy, the recent discomfort after having sex. She frowned slightly at that last one. She hadn’t mentioned it to Jon, hoping it would pass, but it hadn’t.
Dr. Shortle noted everything down in the chart. “Okay Cilla, lay back and we’ll have a look and see if we can’t find out what’s going on.”
Cilla stared at the ceiling, counting the dots, trying to distract herself from what the doctor was doing. She hated this part.
When the doctor stood and pressed on her abdomen she let out an involuntary yelp. “Oh.”
She moved along, getting the same response as she manipulated both ovaries. “I don’t like that Cilla. How long have you had this sensitivity?”
Cilla shrugged her shoulders, “a few weeks I guess. Maybe a month. Why?”
The doctor snapped off her gloves and patted Cilla’s leg. “I want to do an ultrasound, get a better idea of what might be going on, okay?”
When the doctor left to get the machine Cilla laced her fingers together and rested her hands high on her stomach, suddenly wishing she hadn’t come alone.
~
Leaving the building Cilla didn’t know which way to go. She took a step, and was knocked back, the sidewalk busy with the late afternoon crowds. The muttered “sorry” went unheard. She walked for blocks, unaware if she was heading uptown or downtown. She couldn’t even think right now.
The doctor’s words were still swirling in her head -- pelvic mass, ovarian cysts, tumors, biopsy, oophorectomy, laparotomy, laparoscopy, hysterectomy --
Cancer.
God, cancer? She couldn’t have cancer. Just the word made her nauseous. She had watched her mother and grandmother lose their battles with it. This couldn’t be her fate too, could it?
She walked on blindly, not caring where she was going. She just wanted to get away from there.
Finding a subway entrance she descended the stairs, the sweltering heat and humidity of the platform stealing her already shallow breath. Unconsciously she boarded the train, the coolness of the car not registering. She was just trying to hold on until she got back to her apartment.
She clutched her bag to her, trying not to think about the papers she had shoved in it. This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening. There must be a mistake. The doctor had to be wrong.
Mechanically she left the train, trudging up the steps back into the oppressive heat and blinding daylight. Squinting she looked around trying to determine where she was. Only a couple more blocks to go.
Rounding the next corner she saw her shop. Her shoulders drooped and a tear leaked down her face.
Sid.
She slowed her steps as she grew nearer and noticed the place was closed, locked up for the night. She heaved out a silent thank you. She couldn’t handle that right now.
Sid would know immediately that something was wrong. As much as she loved her best friend, she wasn’t ready to deal with his dramatics on top of everything else. She wasn’t ready to face anyone, wasn’t ready to tell anyone what she couldn’t come to grips with herself.
Staggering up her stairs she crossed straight to her bedroom. Dropping her bag she looked up, her gaze landing on the poster over her bed.
Jon.
The dam inside her broke and the tears flooded her face. Her life had been going along great until today. She had survived her first marriage, gotten out of it with a few scrapes and bruises, but she had moved on. Her business was ready for expansion. Her best friend was getting married. The best man she had ever known loved her.
How could it all be going so horribly wrong now?
She dropped to the bed. If this, whatever this was turned out to be the worst case scenario, how would she ever tell him? Glancing up at the poster again, she wiped her eyes.
She wouldn’t tell him.
She would go to New Orleans with him, root for his team with him. Laugh with him. Love him. And, when they came back, she would find some way to tell him she couldn’t see him anymore. There was no way she was going to let him watch her go through this. She couldn’t do that to him. She had seen how Richie had been affected by watching his dad go through his ordeal with lung cancer. She wouldn’t do that to Jon. She couldn’t bear the thought of him falling into the deep pit like Richie had. It wouldn’t be fair to him. No, the best thing for her to do was to let him go. It would be better this way. He’d be upset, hurt, but better now than...
She curled up in a ball. She didn’t even want to think about it.
Better for him to suffer a little hurt now. He would get over her. He would move on. He would be fine.
Chapter 77
They sang.
They danced.
They ate cake.
The show was over, the tour was over and the last after party was in full swing. After schmoozing everyone he absolutely had to, Jon grabbed Cilla and snuck out. They hadn’t had much time together in the last few weeks and Jon was leaving again in a couple of days. He was taking his kids on a much needed, well deserved vacation. Then they were going to New Orleans for the Arena Bowl. Cilla was going with him on that trip. Right now though, the car was rolling to a stop in front of an indiscriminate gray building on Mercer Street.
Sliding out of the car he took Cilla’s hand and tugged her along. “Come on Sweets, there’s a bed up there just screaming our name.”
In the elevator Jon leaned against the wall, head back and eyes closed. He should be exhausted. Instead he felt like he could go put on another 3 hour set. Turning his head, he looked down at Cilla. Her black tank top and jeans accented every delicious curve. He smirked. He knew exactly what he was going to do with all this extra energy.
When they entered his apartment and the door clicked shut behind her, Cilla found herself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. “I hope you’re not too tired” he whispered as his tongue trailed down her neck.
She shook her head, “no, no I’m not… oh God.” The tip of his tongue was making tiny circles along her collarbone.
Jon chuckled quietly. “Good.” He nipped across her shoulder. “I wanna do things to you Sweets.”
“Things?” She saw the determined glint in his eyes. Sweet Jesus he was going to kill her.
He nuzzled her neck, kissed across her jaw. His lips hovered over hers, “bad things.”
Before she could say anything his mouth dipped to hers. The kiss was sweet, tender with heat curling around the edges. He could take her right here, right now and she wouldn’t care. Everything inside her screamed “no” when he pulled his mouth from hers. “What… why…?” She didn’t want him to stop.
He took her hand, leading her up the stairs, “I need a shower first baby.” He hadn’t taken the time for more than a cursory rub down after the show. He didn’t want to keep anyone waiting. Now though, with her, he was more than happy to take the time. “Come on, wash my back for me.”
He turned the water on and watched her watching him in the mirror. He pulled his shirt over his head and crossed the room to her. He fingered the hem of her tank top. “Can’t shower with your clothes on” he said quietly as he tugged her top off. Her muscles tightened as his fingers ghosted down across her stomach. Dropping to kneel, he dragged her jeans down her legs, trailing his fingers over the soft smooth skin of her thighs as he stood again in front of her.
She reached out, stroking his chest, her fingers combing through the fine hairs along his stomach and lower, stroking the bulge that threatened to break his zipper. She popped the button of his jeans slowly, her fingertips brushing the velvety softness of his erection as the zipper lowered and the denim separated, bit by bit.
He fought to stay still as she touched him. He didn’t want to rush but she was making it hard not to. If he didn't stop her now, he'd end up taking her on the bathroom floor and that’s not what he wanted. With a deep breath he pulled her hand away. “We’re never going have that shower at this rate” he croaked as together they pushed his jeans down and off.
Steam filled the room as he finished undressing her; taking care with the silk and lace she wore before leading her into the shower. Standing her under the spray, he reached for the shampoo. Pouring a generous amount in his hand he started working the lather through her hair.
Her head dropped back as he massaged her scalp and worked the sweet scented soap through her long, thick tresses. “That smells like mine” she murmured. God his hands were amazing.
He worked the lather down to the ends of her hair, “it is yours.”
She opened her eyes. “You have my shampoo in your shower?” He was a constant source of surprise.
He nodded and reached for the gel, “I have your soap too.”
She watched as he worked the healthy dollop of gel into a rich lather, wondering if she was going to survive this shower.
He dropped to his knees and picked up her foot. Lightly his lips brushed over her instep, her ankle, before his hands slid over her foot and up her calf. Pressing his lips to the side of her knee he continued up her leg, his fingers stroking along her inner thigh, brushing along the crease where hip and thigh came together.
He gave her other leg the same treatment and stood, smiling at the low groan that fell from her slackened lips.
With more soap on his hands he watched her for just a moment. Her head had dropped back against the slate tile, her lips were parted and she was panting lightly. Her hands were flexing against the wall alongside her and her body had a pretty pink flush creeping over it.
He leaned in close, tracing the shell of her ear. "Turn around baby."
Pushing her hair back she turned, finding his lips before she braced herself against the wall. The heat he had coursing through her warred with warmth of the water raining down on her. She wasn't beyond begging at this point. "Please Jonny."
"Not yet" he hushed as he moved around her.
His hands slid down her back, his fingers massaging and easing away the stress of the day. He worked his way back up, over her shoulders, down her arms, sliding soapy fingers between hers.
She gasped when his fingers teased the sides of her breasts before sliding around and cupping them. When he pinched and kneaded lightly, she whimpered. “You know your turn is coming, right?”
He chuckled quietly. “We’ll see about that.” He was so hard now there was no way he would last if she touched him like this.
His hands slid down her body, the soap all but gone from his fingers. He cupped her butt, caressing, kneading her cheeks. Pressing her legs apart, he slipped his fingers in between, keeping his touch teasingly light. She rolled her forehead against the tile. “Jonny” she nearly sobbed.
With an arm braced on the wall by her head, Jon leaned over her, pressing his mouth to her nape. While he sipped from her skin his fingers slid gently inside her. She pressed her hips back, moving them in time with his hand, looking for the sweet relief only he could give her.
Pulling his hand away he pressed his hips forward and waited, the engorged head of him hovering, barely touching her swollen wet lips. He leaned over her, his chest touching her back, his mouth at her ear. “Is this what you want baby?” he whispered.
She pressed her hips back, “God yes Jon, yes!”
With the steam clouding around them and the water raining over them Jon thrust his hips forward, burying himself in her in one barely controlled movement. Cilla’s scream of release echoed around them as he held on to her hips. When he could move his pace was furious. His hips pumped into her, pushing her up again. The race to finish was a tie. Jon’s head dropped back and the groan that rumbled out of him mingled with her cry of his name.
Releasing his grip on her hips he braced himself on the wall with one hand and gathered her close with the other. Pressing his face to her neck he could hear her trying to catch her breath. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I think” she turned her head “I think I saw God that time.”
Jon laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Water’s getting cold.”
She sighed when he pulled away and watched as he hurriedly shampooed and washed. She trailed a finger over the faded “S” on his shoulder as she moved past him to the door. “One of these times I’m actually going to wash your back.”
Leaving their towels on the floor, they collapsed onto his wide bed, sleep overtaking them before another word could be uttered.
Chapter 76
“Are you done yet?” Sid pushed through the door and tapped his foot impatiently.
“Not yet” Cilla replied without looking up at him.
“How much longer?”
She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “A few more minutes. Chill would ya.”
She was piping the marquee across the front of the cake. With a flourish she set down the bag of icing. “Now I’m done.” It was as close to perfect as she could make it.
She rolled her neck and shoulders. She had spent the better part of the last two days on this cake. All she could do now was hope and pray that they liked it.
Sid walked around the table, taking in the cake from all sides. “It’s amazing Cil.” He put his arm around her shoulders, “they’re going to love it.” He studied it for a minute longer. “It’ll be a shame to cut it.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a quick hug and cleaned up the small mess she had made. “That needs to sit for a few minutes to set. I’m going to go up and change.”
Sid followed her to the door. “Thank God. I was starting to think that you were going to wear your apron to the show.”
Pulling up behind the building Cilla eased the van to a stop right outside the back door. A beefy security guard with no neck came out and stopped her. “You can’t park here lady.”
She got out and showed him her pass and the paperwork for the cake. “I’m Cilla from Queen of Tarts bakery. I’m delivering a cake.”
While he checked her pass and the papers she handed him, Sid was at the back of the van carefully loading the different parts of the cake on one of the rolling carts. “Sorry ma’am. Right this way.” She loaded up the biggest part of the cake on a second cart and they followed the huge man into the building.
She was just putting the finishing touches on when an arm snaked around her middle and a hard chest was pressed up against her back. She tipped her head back and smiled, “hi there.”
Jon pressed his lips against her temple, “hello to you too.” He looked over her head at what she had created. “Damn Sweets, this is amazing.”
She pushed him back, “thanks, but I’m not quite finished. Just give me another minute.”
He moved to let her do her thing. By the time she had finished a small crowd had gathered and camera flashes were going off all around her.
The cake took up almost the entire six foot banquet table. At one end was a replica of Madison Square Garden complete with “Bon Jovi” and the two dates on the marquee. Looking down from the top, you could see the crowd waiting for the show to start and the band on stage.
The “road” that ran halfway down the length of the table had a convertible with a girl at the wheel trying to decide which of the several “exits” to take. Toronto’s Air Canada Centre was one with the five dates depicted on its marquee. There was the Prudential Center with its ten dates, Chicago’s United Center with its three dates and, of course, there was Central Park.
There was also the airport complete with the jovi jet and a sign leading to Australia, New Zealand, Japan and the multitude of stops in Europe.
Jon pulled Cilla aside while the others were oohing and aahing over the cake. “That really is incredible Sweets. More than I ever expected.” He handed her an envelope. “I’m not sure now that what’s in this envelope even comes close to being enough.”
She started to push the envelope back at him, “no Jon. I don’t want… .” They had never discussed compensation for the cake, and she really didn’t want his money.
He cut her off. “Don’t fight me on this baby, please. You worked so hard. You deserve every penny of that” he pointed at the envelope “and if you don’t take it, I’ll give it to Sid. I’m sure he’d deposit it into your business account for you.”
She stared at him for a minute and then sighed. He was right. Sid would do it for her. Folding the envelope she stuck it in her pocket. “Thank you.”
“No” he took her hands, “thank you. You really did a great job.” He had just touched his lips to hers when someone called out their names.
“Jon.”
“Cilla.”
They both turned to look and a flash went off. David grinned at them, “thanks. Hey what flavor is this monster Cil?”
She smiled at his use of her nick name. He really did like her. “That all depends on where you cut into it.” She walked over and pointed to different sections. “There is dark chocolate with raspberry cream filling. Lemon poppy seed with blueberry cream filling or you could end up with French vanilla sponge cake that has a chocolate buttercream filling.”
David looked around the table, on her cart, under the cardboard covers. “Where’s the knife? I’m ready for a piece right now.”
Jon shooed everyone away from the table. “The cake is for later, after the show.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, let’s go guys. We need to get ready. We hit the stage in an hour.”
Before leaving the room Jon turned Cilla over to Sid. “You two stay here and I’ll send someone to take you to your seats.” He kissed Cilla hungrily, “I’ll see you after.”
Sinking into a chair Cilla closed her eyes and ran her fingers across her lips. “Damn can that man kiss.”
Sid smirked, “I know.”
She laughed and looked over at him, “should I be worried?”
Sid shook his head, “sadly no. He’s straight as an arrow and stupid in love with you.” He paused, “besides, my boyfriend is pretty good with his mouth too.”
Cilla’s hands flew up and covered her ears, “stop! Stop right there, I don’t want to hear any more! Way too much sharing!”
While they were laughing Jacquie, Jon’s assistant, came in. “You guys all set? Jon asked me to take you to your seats.”
The pair nodded and, after a stop at the ladies’ room for Cilla, were led out to the front row.
Chapter 75
The guys took the stage at 8:00 p.m. and, just for a moment, before they jumped into Bad Name, they stood, letting the moment wash over them. Jon scanned the crowd, excitement coursing through him. His team had won that day, they were headed to the Arena Bowl and now, here he was about to perform on the Great Lawn. He looked out at the sea of people, smiling and nodding, fist pumping at some of the signs he could read. It was nearly overwhelming. He looked over at Cilla and winked. Could his life get any better?
Cilla, Mark and Sid were off to the side, watching from an area Jon had designated just for them. The roar of the crowd was deafening and the excitement was palpable. Sid and Cilla had been to shows before. She had dragged him to more than he could count, but they had never had a view like this. Mark had never been to a Bon Jovi show before and he was floored. For the first half hour all he could do was stand there. After that, he couldn’t keep still. He moved and sang along with everyone else.
They watched in awe as Jon commanded the crowd of sixty-thousand plus to do his bidding. If he wanted hands raised, up they went. If he wanted the crowd to sing, they sang. Whatever he wanted, wherever he led, the crowd followed. And he didn’t even have to say “simon says.”
The set list wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but Cilla’s smile turned to a grin and a scream with the opening notes of In These Arms. It was one of her favorites.
All too soon it came to an end. Just before they started I Love This Town Jon told them that this was the last song. They had to be done at ten o’clock. They couldn’t play any longer, something about some City ordinance or something. He wanted to stay and play more, but rules were rules. They finished up and bid the crowd farewell before running off the stage.
Jon hustled by, toweling off with one hand and grabbing Cilla's hand and dragging her, Sid and Mark along behind him with the other. Stopping at the row of waiting cars he turned to Cilla, "come to the hotel with me?"
She looked at Mark and Sid, "do you mind?"
They waved her off, "go Sweetie, we'll be fine." They each gave her a hug. Sid hung on a little longer, "thank you so much, this was the best concert, ever." He pushed her toward Jon. "Go be a groupie for your rock star. I'll see you Monday."
Cilla climbed into the car and barely had the door closed before she was pulled across a sweaty male lap. She could feel Jon’s heart thundering in his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he laid his head back on the seat, closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Damn.”
She stroked her fingers across his damp chest, “it was a great show.”
A smile wreathed his face, “hell yeah it was. I didn’t want to stop.”
“Too bad you had to.”
He drew her up to straddle his lap, pushing her skirt to bunch at her waist, pressing his hips up against her. The adrenaline was still pumping through him and he couldn’t settle. His hands dove under her top, cupping and kneading her breasts. “I thought about this, about you and what you weren’t wearing.” He rubbed his thumbs back and forth across her distended nipples. “Every time I looked over at you all I could think about was this.” He started to lift her top and she put her hands on his forearms. "Jon" she hissed, "stop!" They had no privacy here, no divider they could raise to block them from the driver. Even without looking Cilla was sure they were being watched in the rearview mirror.
Jon kept his hands where they were, "what?" He smiled wickedly at her. "Sid told you to be my groupie, right?"
Her cheeks flushed. "You heard that?"
He nodded and inched her top higher. "He wasn't exactly whispering when he said it."
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. "I thought we'd wait until we got to the hotel."
He looked over her shoulder, the driver had his eyes on the road, "what fun would that be?"
"It may not be fun," she whispered, her breath hot at his ear, "but I'd rather not have an audience."
Shifting, Jon eased her off his lap and to the floor between his knees. "He's not watching us now" he told her as he unbuttoned his pants.
Taking Jon at his word, Cilla didn't turn around and look. She knew if she did she would never be able to go through with this. Sliding her hands up the insides of his thighs, her fingers stopped his. "Let me do that" she whispered.
Her voice was quieter, huskier and had him that much harder. How long had it been since he had indulged in the backseat of a car like this after a show? What made this whole situation even hotter was the fact that it was with her and she was actually playing along. Biting his lip to stay quiet, he watched as she lowered her head.
His scent, after show sweat and the muskiness that was him filled her senses as she took him into her mouth. She didn't care anymore that they were in the backseat of a car or that the driver could hear what was going on. Hearing Jon's low groan of pleasure when she took him deep, all she cared about was the pleasure she was giving him.
By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of The Lowell Hotel, Cilla was sitting on the seat next to Jon with her head resting on his shoulder. His head was resting against the back of his seat, a smile of satisfaction played over his lips.
Groping for her hand, Jon tugged her from the car and led her into the hotel. They didn't stop at the desk, the concierge meeting them at the elevator and handing Jon his room key. "Top floor sir."
Jon nodded "thanks" and stepped into the car, pulling Cilla in with him. No sooner had Jon pressed the button and the doors closed than he had her pressed against the wall. His mouth was wild and hot on hers and his hands dove under shirt.
When the elevator dinged open on their floor, they were both breathing heavy. Three steps had them in front of his door. A swipe and a click had them in the room. There was a party waiting for them down in the Pembroke Room, but they were going to be a little bit late.
Chapter 74
Saturday dawned clear and sunny and the temperature promised to hover in the high 80s that day. The crowd at Central Park was going to be wilted by the time the show started, Cilla had no doubt.
She laid out her outfit for later before heading down to the kitchen. The shop was closed today and she wanted to get a start on the cake for Tuesday.
She had finally heard from Jon about the flavor. He had left it to her discretion. Some help he was she snorted. The big cake that she was going to carve into the shape of Madison Square Garden would be French vanilla sponge cake. It would be sturdy enough to handle the carving yet still tasty enough to eat. The other, smaller cakes that would make up the exits and the road would be lemon poppyseed with a blueberry cream filling and chocolate with a raspberry cream filling.
While her ovens heated she mixed and poured batter, singing along with Jon as his voice boomed from her radio. She could hardly wait for the concert. Moving her hips to the beat of the music she arranged the cookies in one of her signature flat pink boxes and set the cakes to cool. She glanced at the clock and picked up her pace. She needed to get back upstairs to get ready.
Tying the halter straps around her neck, Cilla couldn’t keep the small smile from her lips. She wasn’t wearing a bra and that little fact would drive Jon nuts. She fastened the pink sapphire at her neck and had just grabbed her sandals when a knock sounded and the door opened.
“Cilla! Are you ready yet?" Sid called out. "The car's going to be here any minute.” Jon was sending a car to pick them up so, to save a stop, they decided to meet at Cilla's apartment.
She poked her head around her bedroom door, “jeez Sid, give me a minute would ya?” She started back into her room and stopped. "Could you check the game?"
He was just turning the television off when she stepped out into the room. He looked her up and down, “They’re up by 14. And look at you. You actually managed to find something decent in that closet of yours.”
Smiling about the score, she looked down at the black halter top and short denim skirt, “so I pass inspection?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On what shoes you put on those pretty little feet of yours.”
She held up a pair of wedge-heeled espadrilles. “Will these do?”
He looked over the shoes she was holding up and nodded. “Yes. Now get them on and grab your stuff."
Mark knocked on the door and poked his head in, "car's here."
Cilla looked over at him, "you could have come in with him Mark, you didn't have to wait outside."
Mark just shrugged, "I was watching for the car anyway. You look great Cil."
The closer they got to the park the slower the traffic moved and there was a mob of people waiting to get in. Cilla handed Mark and Sid their passes, “put these on and don’t lose them.” Jon had warned her that they needed to careful with the passes. They would get them backstage and he didn’t want them falling into just anyone’s hands.
When they got close Cilla called Jon.
“Hey, where are you?” He had been pacing and waiting; trying not to think about the Soul game and wondering just when she would get there.
Cilla looked around, “81st trying to get past the Planetarium. You should see the people out here.” The crowd was only going to get bigger. Sixty thousand were expected, at least.
Jon paced the room. “Sit tight Sweets, Kevin will get you here soon.”
“Okay Jonny. See you soon.”
Backstage the guys had congregated in Jon's area. Richie put a small white gift bag on the table. "Are they here yet?"
Jon shook his head, "not yet. Kevin went to get them and now they're stuck in traffic." He glanced warily at Richie, "do I want to know the score of the game?" He hadn't gone to the game, nor did he have it streamed to his computer or did he want to stay in his room and watch. He was too nervous about the outcome.
Richie clapped his hand on his shoulder, "relax man, they were up by 7 when I checked a few minutes ago. We'll be going to New Orleans at the end of the month, I can feel it."
Jon forced a smile; he didn't want to get his hopes up. "From your mouth to God's ear man."
The commotion at the door had them turning. Two tall good looking men and one beautiful woman filled the space in front of them. Jon tugged Cilla close, taking the box from her hands and stealing her breath with his mouth. "'Bout time you got here" he told her when he let her mouth go.
"Hey, do I get one of those?" Sid pouted playfully.
Jon looked over at him, "won't your boyfriend get upset?"
Mark smiled and shook his head, "just this once I'll let it go."
Jon walked over, sized Sid up, took his face in his hands and laid one on him, just missing his mouth. He stepped back and wrapped his arms around Cilla. Sid's eyes were closed and he hadn't said anything yet. "Is he all right?"
Cilla nodded her head, "yeah, he's just savoring the moment." She looked at her friend, over to Richie and then back at Jon. "He's also probably wishing Richie would do that to him too."
Jon chuckled and rested his chin on her head. "I'm not sure he could handle that today."
Cilla wiggled out of Jon's embrace, "where's the ladies' room?" She had gone to the bathroom before they left her apartment and now she had to go again.
Instead of just telling her, he took her hand and led her out of the room, walking with her down the hall.
Washing her hands, Cilla studied herself in the mirror. With a sigh she pulled her phone from her small purse. She couldn't put it off any longer. She made the call and left a message with her doctor's office. She'd hear back on Monday and make the dreaded appointment.
When she stepped out the door Jon took her hand and tugged her into his arms. They were alone right now and he wanted to steal a couple of quiet minutes while he could. Looking down at her he stroked her cheek with his thumb. The luck that gotten him where he was in his career had followed him into his private life and sent him this amazing woman. She had her bangs pinned back and her hair waved around her face. Her eyes were bright but he wondered if she was really okay. Her make-up couldn't quite hide the shadows under her eyes. "Everything okay?"
She nodded, not willing to tell him anything until she knew what was going on. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just excited about the show."
He slid his hands under her hair at her nape, his fingertips encountering the tie of her top and the soft bare skin of her upper back. He slid his hands lower, finding only the smooth expanse of her back under her hair. He dropped his forehead to hers and groaned quietly. "You do this to me on purpose don't you?"
She looked up at him innocently. "What?"
"Don't look at me like that, you know damn well what." He didn't believe that innocent look for a second. He slid his hand under the hem of her top, his fingers skimmed up her sides, lightly stroking the sides of her breasts. “You’re not wearing a bra again.”
“Oh” she gasped quietly at his butterfly light touch, “I was in such a rush to get ready I must have forgotten to put it on.”
“Right” he murmured against her cheek. Just as their lips met a quiet, throat clearing cough had them stepping apart and Cilla nearly cried at the loss of Jon’s touch as his hand slid away from her. Paul was standing a few feet away from them.
“Sorry. Jon I need to talk to you.”
Jon walked her back to where the others were and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Go on in and make yourself comfortable. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”
Settling herself in a chair she listened to the conversations going on around her. She was startled when Richie sat down next to her and put a small white gift bag on her lap.
“What’s this?” She couldn’t imagine why he would be giving her a gift.
David, Tico and Hugh had taken up chairs near her and Sid and Mark had the sofa across from her. “We wanted to do something for you since you were kind enough to send us all those care packages over the last six weeks.” Richie looked at the guys, “it’s from all of us and we hope you like it.”
Cilla couldn’t have been more surprised. “But you didn’t have to get me anything.”
The guys nodded, “we know, but we wanted to.” Richie urged her to pick up the bag, “go on, open it.”
She looked at the four eager faces and then over to Mark and Sid. Sid was smiling at her, “do what he said Cil, open the damn thing already.” He was dying to know what they had gotten her.
Pulling the pretty tissue out, she gasped when she saw the signature blue box and white bow. With shaking fingers she pulled the bow off and opened the box.
The white and pink stones glittered up at her. Her vision blurred and she blinked to clear it. It was a pin, a crown with pink and white stones at the tips. She was sure they were sapphires or diamonds set in gleaming white gold or platinum. It looked so delicate and fragile she was afraid to touch it. She looked up, her gaze landing first on Richie, then on to David, Tico and Hugh. “It’s beautiful, but it’s too much. I can’t...” she felt hands on her shoulders and looked up. “Hi.”
Jon looked down at her, “just say thank you and put it on Sweets. You’ll hurt their feelings if you don’t.”
She looked at the guys again, they were nodding their heads, a pout marred each of their faces. She had to laugh, how could she compete with the puppy dog looks?
Carefully she lifted the pin from its nest and pinned it just above her left breast. Standing she went to each man and kissed their cheeks. “Thank you. It really is beautiful. I might even have to wear it on my apron at work.”
She moved over to Jon, “do I need to thank you too?”
He shook his head, “nope. He touched the pin, “this was all their doing. Though if you want to kiss me anyway I won’t say no.”
She laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek too.
Chapter 73
Glancing at the clock Cilla sighed and got up. Jon would just be finishing up the first of the Boston shows and she had to pee, again. Good thing he wasn’t here she thought. She’d be keeping him up with the number of times she had been to the bathroom. Coming back she rubbed a hand across her abdomen she felt bloated and achy again. What is going on? I should really call the doctor. She didn’t really want to take the time to go, but she couldn’t afford to be sick right now either. She made a mental note to call her doctor in the morning.
It was late afternoon before she was able to catch her breath and when she grabbed her phone, it rang in her hand. It was Jon.
“Hey Jonny.”
Richie looked at the phone, realizing only then that he had Jon’s in his hand instead of his own.
“Sorry darlin’, it’s not" he smirked "Jonny.” Oh was he was going to have fun with that one.
Cilla pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the number again. It was Jon’s, but the voice on the other end definitely was not. “Who is this?”
Richie chuckled. “It’s Richie darlin’. I grabbed Jonny’s phone by mistake.”
Cilla laughed, “maybe you should keep yours on a string around your neck or something. How are you?”
“I’m fine” he laughed. “I wanted to thank you for my gift. Are you sure I don’t have to share?”
“I’m glad you got it and no, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to. Didn’t you read the note? That’s your birthday present. The others got smaller care packages of their own.”
He tucked the note into his breast pocket, “I did, but I just wanted to make sure.” She really was the most thoughtful woman. He was going to have to talk to the guys and see what they could do for her. “We’ll see you Saturday, right?”
She smiled, “yes. You’ll get to meet Sid and his fiancée too.”
“Now, that I’m looking forward to.”
“Not a much as he is” she muttered.
Richie laughed. “He’s going to make a pass at me or something isn’t he?”
Cilla nodded, “probably. Be glad Mark is coming with him, at least he won’t try to kiss you.”
Sid pushed through the door and waved frantically at Cilla to get her attention.
“Rich, I’ve got to go. We have a situation apparently. See you Saturday.” She hung up before he could say anything more.
“What is it Sid?” She couldn’t imagine with the problem could be.
“We are running out of everything, including tickets!”
“What?!” She couldn't believe that everything was gone.
She moved past him and out to the front of the shop. Sure enough, the cases were nearly empty and there were still more people streaming through the door. She turned and bumped into Sid. “I’ll be right back.”
She hurried back to the kitchen and pulled things out of the warming oven and the refrigerator. Sliding the last of pans out of the convection oven she took what she had left out front. It would have to do.
“Okay Sid, when this is gone, that’s it. I’ve got nothing left back there. People will just have to come back tomorrow.”
He finished up with a customer and turned to her. “I think we’ll be fine now.” The crowd had thinned significantly and more were turning and leaving as they spoke.
She looked surprised. “What happened?”
Sid shrugged. “We’re out of tickets.”
She nodded, “okay.” She looked out at the few people who were still lingering. “Give a yell when you’re done here and we can start cleaning up. We should be able to close up soon.”
She headed back to the kitchen, she needed to call Jon.
~
“Oh Jon-ny.”
He winced at the high pitched sing-songy quality of Richie’s voice. “What? And don’t call me that.”
He followed Jon into his dressing room. Looking around Richie saw the pink box on the table and couldn’t help but tease Jon. “My box is bigger than yours.”
Jon looked around and his eyes settled on the box on the table. “What makes you so special?”
Richie puffed out his chest, “your girlfriend loves me.”
Jon’s eyes narrowed and the flash of jealousy left him unnerved. “What did you say?”
“Relax man I was only kidding. It’s my birthday bro; she sent me stuff for my birthday.”
Jon nearly sagged with relief. “What did you get?” Jon had peeked at his earlier and there were cookies a cannoli and an éclair in his box.
“A whole cake box full of cannoli.” He told him smugly.
Jon laughed, “you’re going to get fat man.”
Before Richie could reply there was a knock on Jon’s door and a curly blonde head appeared. “Is it safe to come in?”
Jon waved Dave and Tico in. “What’s up guys?”
They strolled in, pink boxes in hand. David rubbed his belly, “we love your girlfriend man, but she’s going to make us fat.”
Jon and Richie laughed. The four of them were so in tune with each other they were practically having the same conversation. “No one said you have to eat what she sends.”
Dave shrugged, “it’d be a shame to let it go to waste though.”
On the table Jon’s phone started vibrating madly. He took the call and Richie, David and Tico huddled on the couch.
“I think we should do something for Cilla” Richie told them. “She’s been real good to us this leg of the tour. What do you guys think?”
David nodded, he liked the idea. “I’m in.”
Tico agreed, “got any ideas?”
Richie thought for a minute. “I saw something while I was out earlier. Do you guys trust me?”
“About as far as we can throw you.” David and Tico laughed.
Jon finished his call and strolled over to where they were sitting. “Looks like serious business over here, what’s going on? What are you all up to?”
Richie filled him in, “I thought we should do something for Cilla to show our gratitude but apparently these two don’t trust me.”
Jon looked at David and Tico, “when it comes to buying a gift for a woman, have you ever known him to have trouble?”
They shook their heads, “no, but there’s a first time for everything.”
Richie stood and paced, “come on guys, it’s something really nice. I’ll have Denise go pick it up now and if you don’t like it you guys can think of something else.” Jesus why were they being such hard asses about this?
Before they could argue anymore, he called his assistant, told her what he had seen and where and she took off to find it.
Chapter 72
Waiting for her laptop to boot up Cilla looked around. Her kitchen was in order, Paul had come to pick up the cannolis for Richie and the others, the cookies for after the Central Park show were in the refrigerator waiting to be decorated and she had three orders ready to be picked up the following day. She could close up and watch the press conference with Sid in peace.
“Sid” she called from the door, “lock the door and pull the gate. It’s just about time.”
He met her in the kitchen, “did I miss anything?”
She rolled her eyes, “no you didn’t miss anything. Now sit there on that stool and be quiet.”
They sat through Mayor Bloomberg, patiently waiting for Jon to have his turn. When he stepped up to the microphone Cilla sighed. He had gotten his hair cut and he looked so good in that shade of blue. She squirmed in her seat. She could hardly wait to see him later.
Sid watched her, smirking at her restlessness. “Feeling a little anxious are we?”
She could feel the blush staining her cheeks, “so what if I am? Can you blame me?”
“Hell no. If it were me, I would have been down there with him so I could haul his ass home with me the second he was finished.” He grinned at her, “but that’s just me.”
Jon gave his speech, garnering a laugh from the crowd when he corrected the Mayor on his reference to Simon & Garfunkel and a roar of approval when he announced the concert.
Sid grabbed her arm, “Central Park?! They’re playing a free show in Central Park?! That was what ‘CP’ was yesterday? How could you keep that to yourself?”
She shut down the computer. “I had to Sid, I gave Jon my word. Now I have to go change and get over to his place.”
He didn’t move from his seat. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, “I’m sorry Sid, really. But I think I have a way to make it up to you.”
He craned his head around to look at her, “doubtful, but what is it?”
She smiled, “Jon says I have three tickets for that show. Unless you and Mark are busy, two are yours.”
A smile split his face, “okay, that helps. You really have tickets for me and Mark?”
She nodded her head, “yes, I do. Not only that, we’re going to be distributing the tickets from here as well. I’ll find out the details and keep you posted. Can I go change now?”
He slid off the stool and hugged her, “go, enjoy yourself and give Jon a big wet kiss for me.”
They walked out the back door together, “I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself, but I’m not kissing Jon for you. You’ll have to do that yourself.”
Sid stopped and turned back to look at her, “don’t tempt me. You know I will.”
She climbed a few stairs. “I know” she chuckled, “I want to see what he would do.” Sid’s laughter followed her up the stairs.
~
Jon paid the cab driver and let himself into the building. He wanted to change his clothes and go see Cilla. He was trying to decide where to take her for dinner when he opened the door to his apartment and stopped. There was music playing, something low and bluesy. He wondered if Richie had decided to stay here instead of at the hotel.
“Rich” he called out, “is that you? What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at the hotel with the rest of the guys.”
Cilla stepped to the doorway of the kitchen, a wine glass in each hand. She held one out to him. “Sorry to disappoint. I can leave and you can call Richie if you’d rather.”
His head whipped around. The mile high heels had him hard and the tousled mass of her hair against the lavender silk had him hurrying across the room, “oh hell no.”
Taking the wine glasses he set them down on the nearest flat surface and pressed her back against the wall. Before she could say anything his mouth was on hers; sweet and welcoming, hungry and demanding.
Leaving her lips bruised and swollen, he nibbled along her jaw. Fisting a hand in her hair, he tugged her head back and tasted a path down her long, creamy neck. He traced tiny circles where he could feel her pulse racing. "What are you doing here?" he mumbled. He really didn’t care, he was just glad she was.
"Brought you dinner" she breathed as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. She needed to touch him, needed him to touch her. They had only been apart a few days, maybe a week, how could the need of him, the want of him be this powerful? She felt the strap of her dress slide down her arm and his hot, wet mouth skimmed across her shoulder. “So sweet” he murmured against her.
His fingertips whispered over her smooth thighs, sliding her dress higher, bunching it around her waist. Cupping her ass he lifted her off her feet. His mouth captured hers again and he ground his hips against her.
Finally managing to get all the buttons open on his shirt, she pushed it and his jacket off his shoulders, leaving it as her mouth feasted on the broad expanse in front of her. He struggled to get the shirt and jacket off. “Cil” he drew her mouth from his skin. She looked at him questioningly. “Cuffs.”
In short order his jacket and shirt were on the floor and his hands were under her dress. He groaned when he discovered she was braless. “God you make me crazy when you do this.” Her head thunked against the wall as he kneaded the soft flesh and rolled a nipple between his thumb and finger.
Drawing the dress higher, he slid it off and tossed it behind him. Tracing a circle around her nipple he groaned when her hips flexed against his in reaction. Holding her tighter he did it again before finally sucking it into his mouth.
Cilla’s head lolled against the wall. She ground her hips against him, trying to ease the ache he was causing. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his waist, frantic fingers searched out his belt.
His grip tightened on her hips when her hand wrapped around him. He grappled with the scrap of lace she wore, needing to be inside her more with every touch, every stroke.
Pulling her hand from him, he pressed inside her. She was so wet, so ready for him he thought he might come right then. Before he could catch his breath, she rolled her hips. She needed him to move. His eyes met hers, the gray so dilated they were nearly black. “Please” she begged. He pressed his lips to hers and moved. His pace was furious, his hips pounded into her, driving her quickly to a screaming release.
The echo of her cries had barely faded when he added his own groan as he emptied inside her.
Unable to keep his legs under him, Jon slowly slid them down to the floor, she astride him, he was still buried inside her. Breathing heavy he rested his head against her shoulder, her head dropped back against the wall. She stroked her hands up and across his shoulders. “So, you were glad to see me then?”
Jon rolled his head off her shoulder, pressing kisses along her neck and up to her mouth. “No” he managed a chuckle for her. “Not at all.”
