Chapter Thirty Two

Billie looked down at the bacon-filled pan and smiled wryly. Her guesstimate that Jon had time to shower had been pretty far off the mark - he’d only just headed for the bathroom but the bacon was ready. She walked toward the bathroom, hearing the sound of the shower, the noise almost drowning out the soft singing, and she returned to the kitchen with a sigh. Turning off the stove, she jammed a lid onto the pan, trusting that the latent heat would be sufficient to keep the bacon warm.

Freshening her coffee, Billie went to the living room, shooing Deke from the fold-out bed so she could put it away. He grunted his disapproval as he jumped to the floor, then gave himself a quick shake and headed for the doggy door and outside. Sitting on the couch with her coffee, Billie’s gaze fell on the acoustic guitar, and she got off the couch, picking up the instrument and sitting again.

Frowning in concentration, she forced her fingers onto the strings, playing the chords she could remember, so when Jon emerged from the bathroom he heard her soft playing. Grinning, realising he’d probably inducted someone else into the addiction of music, Jon walked silently toward the living room. Billie didn’t notice him, her attention focused on the guitar, so Jon took the opportunity to just watch her, the long legs bared as her robe slipped further open. As she strummed a near-perfect ‘C’, Jon applauded softly, startling Billie so she almost dropped the guitar.

“You scared me!” She yelped, moving to lay the guitar aside.

“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned lazily. “That was pretty good, though, considering you’ve only started playing. You may be a natural.”

“Pfft!” She snorted derisively. “Hardly like I’m playing a song, is it? Single chords only!”

“Yeah, but you’re playing them right.” Jon explained. “You can hear when it’s right or wrong, and a lot of people can’t ever learn that. You just know.”

“Maybe I just had a good teacher.” Billie did lay the guitar down now, standing from the couch as Jon grinned again.

“That’d be it, for sure.” He gave her a suspicious look. “Did you feed my bacon to Dekey?”

“Nope. Still in the pan.” She headed for the kitchen. “You want anything else?”

“Yep.” He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her into his arms, dipping her dramatically backward so she squealed then leaning in to kiss her before raising her upright again. “Okay - now you can feed me.”

“Typical man.” Billie muttered. “Food and sex……all you think about!”

“Not true!” Jon argued, following her to the kitchen. “I think about sex and food, in that order! Oh, yeah, and music.”

Billie rolled her eyes, lifting the lid from the pan of bacon and picking off a piece, nibbling it to check if it was still hot. It was, and as she turned to Jon he took it from her hand, taking a bite as Billie scowled.

“You’re pretty free with helping yourself to my food, aren’t ya?” She muttered, and he nodded with a goofy grin.

“Yup. What you gonna do about it?”

“I’ll think of something.” She promised, smirking. “Maybe I’ll go dig out a whip.”

Jon just grinned broader. “I thought you were talking about punishing me, not…….” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully, and Billie started to laugh.

“You’re nuts, you know that?”

“I know.” He agreed.

Billie made sandwiches of the bacon, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat them, Deke returning to watch them mournfully as they steadfastly refused to feed him. He finally laid his head gently on Jon’s knee, his eyes following every move of the sandwich, until Jon laughed helplessly.

“Can he have some?”

She sighed. “Not from the table. Deke!”

The dog started, looking reproachfully at Jon for turning him in, then he got to his feet and lumbered to Billie’s side, looking at her.

“You.” She said sternly. “Are a beggar, aren’t you?”

He wagged his tail slowly, and Billie got to her feet, picking up his bowl from the floor and emptying some bacon from her sandwich into it. She laid it down, stroking his back as he dived head-first into the bowl, returning to her seat at the table and picking up what remained of her breakfast.

“You’re just a soft touch, aren’t you?” Jon grinned, and Billie shrugged.

“I guess.”

“D’you feel like taking a ride today?” Jon asked, and Billie nodded.

“Sure. The horses are just standing around anyway.”

“Didn’t mean on horses.” He grinned. “I was thinkin’ of taking you on the bike.” The smirk on his lips was a bit of a giveaway of the kind of ‘taking’ he had in mind, and Billie smiled.

“That’d be fun. I haven’t been on a bike in years.” She looked down at her robe, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I guess I should get dressed then, huh?”

“Hey, don’t bother on my account. Less you’re wearing, less I have to take off you.”

“I really should look for that whip.” Billie muttered, getting to her feet, holding out a hand for Jon’s empty plate.

He stood, too, taking her plate instead.

“Why don’t you go shower and whatever and I’ll clean up here.”

Billie snorted, raising a hand to lay it on his forehead. “Jesus! Are you feeling okay? A guy offering to wash dishes?”

“Damn.” He said, pretending worry. “You mean cowboys don’t do dishes?”

“In this house they do.” She assured him, then leaned to kiss him lightly. “Thanks.”

While Billie showered and dressed, Jon cleaned up the kitchen, wondering what the hell was wrong with him these days, that he was not only doing these little domestic things, but offering to do them in the first place. Maybe it was just the atmosphere around here - around Billie - that was taking him back to how he’d been raised, stripping away the rockstar bullshit and letting him find the John behind the Jon, so to speak. Whatever it was, it felt strange, but it felt damned good, and he poured himself a mug of fresh coffee as a reward when he’d finished.

Billie came back, dressed in jeans and a tight pink t-shirt that beautifully outlined the curves of her breasts. Her hair was in a pair of braids, and Jon grinned as he looked at her.

“You look about twelve.” He gestured to the hair, and Billie pouted, looking down at her chest until Jon laughed. “Okay, if you didn’t have boobs, you’d look about twelve with your hair like that!”

She just snorted, crossing to the coffee pot, finding it empty. “You drank all the coffee?!”

“Nope.” He sipped from his mug again, then peered into it. “Still got some, thanks.”

She pouted, muttering sullen threats as she opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk, drinking a mouthful straight from it as Jon looked on in surprise.

“I’ve never seen a woman do that.” He grinned. “Thought it was only guys.”

Billie rolled her eyes - seemed she had to do that a lot around this guy - and took another mouthful, this time a trickle escaping the corner of her mouth. She swallowed and flicked her tongue out, catching the drips, and Jon nibbled on his lower lip but fought the temptation. If he let himself strip her and make love to her again, it’d be the middle of the afternoon before they got going. Instead, he drank down the last of the coffee and rinsed his mug quickly, catching Billie’s smirk.

“If you say a word about men and housework, I’ll put you over my knee.” He warned, then laughed. “I should rephrase that, right?”

“That all depends if you want me to say anything about housework.” Billie purred. “Or if you just want an excuse to spank me.”

“Don’t need an excuse. But we’ll get to that later.” He winked. “I promise I won’t forget.”

“If you do, I’ll remind you.” Billie gave her own promise.

On that note, they finished getting ready, pulling on boots and sunglasses, Billie tying a bandana over her hair, giggling as Jon tied one around his head in his usual fashion. With jackets in their hands, they went out to the garage, Billie waiting while Jon wheeled the bike out and quickly checked gas and oil before starting the motor, the dull roar of the bike making them both grin.

Jon pulled on his leather jacket and straddled the bike, holding out a hand to steady Billie as she climbed on behind him. She didn’t need telling, scooting herself up close behind Jon and laying her hands on his waist, just for the contact with him. He set the bike rolling slowly from the ranch, Billie leaning to speak in his ear.

“Where are we going?”

“Haven’t a clue.” He shrugged. “What’s around?”

“Do you want something pretty or somewhere you can go fast?”

“I’ve got something pretty.” He dropped a hand back onto her thigh, squeezing through her jeans. “And she goes fast, too. Ow!”

Billie had bitten his ear, a tiny nip on the edge that stung, and Jon slapped his hand on her thigh.

“That hurt! Okay, okay. This is a motorcycle, not a - a crotch rocket - so let’s go for pretty.”

“Take a left.” Billie instructed as they hit the road at the end of her property.