Chapter Seventeen

Jon emerged from the bathroom to find the house silent.

“Billie?” He called, still rubbing his long hair with a towel as he headed along to the living room. “Hello?”

In the living room, on the back of the couch, he found a t shirt, a sheet of notepaper lying on top. Frowning in confusion, Jon picked up the note.

‘Jon - I won’t be long - just had to run (okay, ride!) to my neighbor if we’re going picnicking. Make yourself…….oh, you know the drill! Billie. PS: If you’re still feeling helpful, you could throw together some sandwiches or something.’

Jon grinned, flicking the note with a fingernail. More than he’d have believed possible, he was relishing being treated just like any other guy. Strange as it seemed, the whole rockstar, someone-to-do-every-damned-thing-for-you, no need to get your hands dirty lifestyle palled pretty quickly. Or maybe his sour attitude was to blame for that, too.

He unfolded the shirt, relieved to find it was plain, and pulled it on. It fit as well as could be expected, but he tugged at the collar, feeling it tight. Probably best, though, to wait for Billie’s permission before he did his usual and cut away the edge to loosen it for a more comfortable fit. Mindful of her half-joking suggestion, he went through to the kitchen to see what food he could find.

Ransacking the cupboards, he piled a few bags of chips and some apples onto the kitchen table, then started to make sandwiches with cooked ham he found in the fridge. Knowing how hot the day was likely to be, he forsook butter in favor of a thin layer of the ubiquitous French’s mustard. One thing he’d learned from his mom was that butter quickly turned rancid in the heat of summer - whether New Jersey or whichever state he was in right now - but mustard never failed. He just had to hope Billie liked it as much as he did. As soon as he thought that, though, he chuckled at his own stupidity. She lived here alone, so it was hardly likely she’d have the stuff if she didn’t like it. In a typically male - and very unhygienic - way, he sucked the knife blade clean, suddenly imagining anyone who knew him seeing this unlikely domestic scene.

“Oh, Dot would love this.” He muttered, the words settling for a moment before leaping back at him, hitting with the power of a sledgehammer. Dot.

“What the fuck did I do?” He mumbled painfully.

But, of course, he knew exactly what he’d done. He’d cheated on the woman he loved. Again. And this time it felt even more of a betrayal, because he hadn’t been able to…..to consummate his love for her, yet he’d fucked a near stranger into screaming orgasm at least twice this morning.

“You shit, Jonny.” He muttered darkly. “You utter fucking bastard.”

Now he had another headache to add to his list. Billie. Maybe the best thing would be to just get on his bike and ride. Preferably off the nearest cliff.

“How could you fucking do it?” He asked aloud, then spun around in surprise at the voice behind him.

“Stop beating yourself up.” Billie said gently, choosing her words with care. “Just a guess, but I assume the guilties just hit you? Over what happened this morning?”

“Yeah.” Jon flushed. “I mean, I don’t regret, well I do, but………ah, fuck!”

He didn’t even know what he was trying to say any more. No, he didn’t regret the delicious sex of the early morning, but still he felt like a total heel for cheating on Dorothea. It felt great to know he really wasn’t impotent but, on the flip side, shouldn’t that discovery have been made with the woman he loved? And……

“Stop.” Billie told him, the single word halting his rushing thoughts. She still stood at the doorway, watching him as she continued. “I think - I hope - what you’re trying to say is that this morning was….fun……but you’re deeply in love with Dorothea. And it’s okay, Jon. Truly. I won’t say let’s forget it happened.” She shifted slightly. “Be a few days before I can, anyway, but I’m not looking for anything from you.”

Jon stared at her. Okay, his honest first reaction was along the lines of ‘what the fuck?’. Hell, he’d performed pretty damned well, he thought, yet she was coolly saying she didn’t want him again? The second reaction, closely following, was one of relief, then a third hit, and it surprised him. He didn’t want to leave yet - minor awkwardness be damned. He wanted to go for that picnic. He wanted to spend time with Billie, spend time here. And how fucked up was that? Sighing, he gave her a sheepish half-grin.

“How come women are so damned smart?”

“Because we have to think for you lot, too.” She told him with a smirk. “D’you still want to go for that picnic?”

“Actually - yeah, I do.” He was slightly shame-faced, ducking his head and peering at her through tangled hair.

“Good, because I brought you your own horse.”

“You what?”

“Well, if we’re packing a picnic, that means saddlebags which, surprisingly enough, means a saddle. So we can’t both ride Drummer. I rode over next door - next ranch anyway - and borrowed a horse for you.” Billie grinned at the minor worry on his face. “Don’t worry - she’ll look after you.”

“She? You got me a girl horse, huh?”

“Girl horse.” Billie muttered, shaking her head at the layman’s term. “Yes, I borrowed my friend’s old mare. She’s utterly shockproof, frightproof, everything-proof. Plus she doesn’t mind novice riders. She’ll look after you.” She repeated.

“Okay.” Jon nodded, then gestured toward the table, pretending not to notice Billie blushing as she looked at the solid surface and remembered earlier. “I threw some stuff together, as instructed.”

Billie looked at the stack of sandwiches and the other stuff, nodding.

“Looks good to me. I’ll bring in the saddlebags - I just have to grab them and put on Drummer’s saddle. Copper’s ready to go.”

“Copper? Oh, my horse, right?”

“Yep. Put your boots on and I’ll introduce you.”

Jon did as he was told and Billie led him outside where a rich chestnut colored mare stood tied to the fence beside Drummer. The mare literally looked Jon up and down as Billie spoke, then she tossed her head with a snort, Jon laughing helplessly.

“Why do I get the feeling she’s not impressed?”

“Takes a lot to impress Copper.” Billie laughed. “Don’t take it personally. But she’s a good old girl, aren’t ya?”

The mare nuzzled at Billie’s jeans until she relented and produced a packet of mints, feeding the mare a few.

“Typical woman.” Jon grunted. “Bribery works every time.”

“Absolutely. Here - you give her a few and she’ll love you……at least until they’re gone.”

Once Jon had gotten onto Copper’s good side through bribery, he and Billie went to the barn to grab saddlebags and a saddle for Billie’s horse. Jon was despatched back into the house to fill the saddlebags while Billie saddled up, then she took the filled bags from him and fastened them to her saddle before looking at Jon critically.

“Do you have a hat?”

“You mean like a cowboy hat? Nope.”

“Damn. Keeps the sun off. Come with me.”

Back in the house she opened a closet and found a few battered hats, explaining they’d belonged to her dad. They were all the same size, unsurprisingly, and Jon picked out a beat-up looking straw one, putting it on to Billie’s approving smile.

“Let’s go.” She said, picking her own trusty, dusty black hat off the rack by the door.