Chapter Fifty-Four

The quiet murmur of the guitar floated into her dream.  The low timbre of his voice teased her toward wakefulness.  Sighing contentedly, she rolled to her back and just listened.  He could devastate with six or twelve strings as well as Jon could with his voice.  She loved to watch him on stage, but to hear him like this, just him and his acoustic, this was a priceless gift.    

Climbing out from under the covers, she stretched and wandered out to the living room. The dregs of his boy’s night in were nowhere to be seen.  Now, a wooden tray sat in the middle of the coffee table with a silver insulated coffee carafe and a porcelain cup alongside a pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl.  A spoon rested on a pristine white napkin.  Scanning further, she found him sitting on the floor, shirtless, his back against the end of the sofa, the guitar on his lap.  The sunlight streaming through the window teased out the red tones in his brown hair and cast a golden glow across his skin.  His eyes were closed and he was absently strumming and singing an old Chicago tune.

Take me as I am
Put your hand in mine now and forever
Darling here I stand, stand before you now
Deep inside I always knew
It was you, you and me
Two hearts drawn together bound by destiny
It was you and you for me
Every road leads to your door
Every step I take forever more

She crawled onto the couch, curling her legs under her, she tucked herself into the corner behind him, her knees rubbing against his shoulder.  She didn’t want to disturb him.  She kept quiet, hoping he would keep playing.

Just say you'll love me for the rest of your life
I gotta lot of love and I don't want to let go
Will you still love me for the rest of my life?
'Cause I can't go on
No, I can't go on
I can't go on
If I'm on my own

Something niggled as she sat and listened to him. Something he had said to her tickled the edges of her memory.  She closed her eyes as he continued to sing and the words came to her in a whisper of wonderment.  I love you.   Her eyes popped open.  Had he said the words earlier, when she was more asleep than awake and far from coherent enough to realize what he was saying?  Or had she really been asleep and dreamt it?  She shook her head, trying to remember. 

She felt a warm hand on her bare knee.  When had he stopped playing?  She looked to his left, the guitar was settled all the way in its case this time, the notebook closed and resting on top of the case.  When did he do that?  She had gotten so lost in her own musings, she hadn’t even noticed.  She covered his hand with hers.  “Hi.”

“C’mere.”  A gentle tug had her unfolding herself from the couch and straddling his thighs.  “Good morning sleepyhead.”  He pressed his lips to hers.  “Glad you’re here.”

She smiled softly at him.  “Me too.”  Her fingers drifted across his stubble-covered jaw, cupping his face.  Lifting gently she found his eyes with hers.  “Are you okay?”

He could see the concern still swirling in her eyes, the same concern he had seen there earlier when she had crawled into his bed.  How long had it been since someone cared enough about his well being to drop everything just to make sure he was okay?   He was always the one going out of his way to make sure others were taken care of.  It was nice to have someone do that for him for a change.  “I’m better than I was.”  He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand where it still cupped his cheek.  “Thank you for coming.  Even though I should be mad at you for driving here in the middle of the night.”  He hated to think of what could have happened to her driving all alone like that in the middle of the night.

Dropping her hand from his face, she braced it on his shoulder and scooted forward to straddle his lap, her knees bracketing his hips.  “What did you tell me once, ‘I worry about the people I care about?’”  At his nod she continued.  “Well, Richie, I care about you, a lot.  So I got in my car and here I am.”  She wasn’t going to worry about a little lost sleep.  Her fingers wandered up from his shoulder to tangle in his hair.  “Do you want me to go away and come back later?”  She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

His hands tightened where they rested on her hips.  “Nope.”  His lips met hers in a hard peck.  “You’re here now and you’re all mine.”  He covered her mouth with his, cutting off any reply she might have made.  His hands slid up under the hem of the t-shirt she wore slowly creeping up her sides, pushing at the shirt as he went.  The navy blue was emblazoned in white with Yankees and a Nike swish logo across the chest.  “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks.  I like it.”

He continued to push it up out of his way, baring her breasts as he went.  Looking up, she was pulling the shirt over her head, her arms still tangled inside.  “Leave it there.”

She glanced down at him, her arms still lost in the shirt.  This was new.  “Okay.”

Leaning forward, he traced circles around her right breast with his tongue, closing in on the rapidly hardening tip.  Sucking the hardened nub of her nipple into his mouth, he palmed her left breast, kneading gently.

With her hands still wrapped in the navy cotton, Stephanie could do little more than let him have his way.  Let him take what he so obviously needed.  Dropping her hands to rest on his head, she rolled her hips against him, looking for that little bit more that would give her the release her body was craving.

Letting her nipple go with an audible pop, Richie lifted her hands from his head and sat back, his hands stopping her hips from grinding against him.  He’d give her what she wanted, but in his own way.  In his own time.  His hands slid up from her hips to bracket her waist.  “Lay back, sweetheart.” 

Drawing her knees up from under her she leaned back, “a little help?” Without the use of her hands, she didn’t want to fall backward.

Shifting himself around, he helped ease her to her back on the floor.  His fingers wove a light pattern down her abdomen and around the lacy band of her panties.  Looking down he noticed they were plain, white cotton panties.  Very practical and not at all what he had expected, but yet he still found them quite sexy on her.  Hooking his fingers in the lacy band he dragged them slowly down her smooth thighs.  Her scent drew him back, his tongue lazily skimming up the inside of her thigh.  He looked up, found her watching him.  Her face was flushed and her eyes just a little wild.  “I hope you’re comfortable, sweetheart.”

She nodded, “I am.” 

He smiled wickedly.  “Good.  I’m gonna be here a while.” He dipped his head, his breath teasing the tiny bit of hair on her mound.

She dropped her head to the floor with a groan.  “Oh, God.”

~

“C’mon Sweetheart, the guys are going to be here any minute.”  Richie slipped the cross around his neck.  They had spend the better part of the day in bed and now they were going to head out to cruise the strip, lose more than a little money and have some dinner.  If she would ever come out of the bathroom.  He gave himself one last look in the mirror.  He looked better than he had, but still not quite himself.  But he was getting there.  He splashed on a little cologne and straightened his collar.  The bathroom door opened behind him and her scent had him turning from his reflection.

“I’m almost done.”  She had a flat iron in her hand and most of her hair was now pin straight.  Her face was carefully made up, her normally kaleidoscope eyes shown more green than brown from some magic make-up trick.  But she was still in her robe.

“You’re not even dressed yet.”  Not that he minded, the little, silky bit of pink stopped mid-thigh and she had some seriously great legs.   But his friends didn’t need to see her nearly naked when they got here. 

She ran the iron through the last bit of her still-curly hair.  “Just give me a few more minutes.”

He crossed the room and pressed his lips to her forehead as the pounding on his door started.  “You can have five, sweetheart.”

The raucous male voices in the other room spurred her on.  She quickly finished her hair and stepped into her dress.  The little black dress had been another lucky find at that shop near her office.  The wide v-neck was enhanced with embroidery and beads in a deep red that matched the design around the hem, a hem that ended about five inches above her knee.  Sitting on the side of the bed she drew on her crimson boots and topped the whole look with a short, black leather jacket.  Not too dressed up she thought as she looked in the mirror and added her “S” necklace, but just enough for Vegas.   She hoped.

She stepped into the other room and into the middle of a heated discussion about the car service and where they were going to eat.

“Hey!”  She spoke loud enough to be heard over the din.  Four heads turned in her direction, Hugh was conspicuously absent.  “I don’t care where you want to eat, but we can take my car.  I don’t mind playing chauffer tonight.”

Three of the four men moved across the room toward her.  Richie stayed rooted to his spot.  She looked amazing.  A short dress and a wicked pair of boots were going to be his death tonight.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chewing on the end of her pencil, Stephanie read through the last paragraph one final time. Making some more notes on her tablet, she turned to her computer and opened her word processing program.  “One more report” she muttered to herself as she started typing. “One more report and then I can get the hell out of Dodge.”  Her fingers moved quickly across the keys, translating her bastardized version of shorthand to a formal, legible, coherent report for her boss.

Blowing her hair out of her face she squinted as she tried to read her own handwriting.  She shook her head.  The longer the day had gotten, the worse her handwriting had become. Her fingers left the keyboard and rubbed at her temples.  Damn she was tired.  She had been coming in early and leaving late nearly every day so she could leave for Las Vegas first thing in the morning instead of trying to come in to work first.   She just knew she would never get out of here at the time she wanted to.  There was always just one more thing that had to get done.

Like today.

Linda, her boss, had come in with a fresh batch of manuscripts that needed to be read through and reports written up by Monday.  She had heard through the grapevine that Linda’s assistant had quit that morning and hadn’t finished any of the projects Linda had given her.  That’s why at nearly nine o’clock she was still sitting here.

She took a sip of tea and grimaced.  It had long since grown cold.  Pushing back from the computer she stood and headed to the break room.  One more cup of tea and she would finish up that last report and head for home.  She yawned as the microwave beeped. Grabbing her cup, she turned and headed back to her office.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice floated in from the doorway.

“What are you still doing here?”

Her boss was standing by the door looking slightly worse for wear.  Her normally tidy navy business suit showed the wear and wrinkles of a hard day.  Her jacket was unbuttoned, her blouse was coming out from the waist of her slacks and her chic auburn updo had started to droop.  “Jesus, Linda.  Call an ambulance.  I think you just gave me a freaking heart attack.”  She placed a hand over her racing heart and gulped in several deep breaths.

Linda sauntered in and sat down in the chair in front of Stephanie’s desk.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  But what are you still doing here?”

Taking one last deep breath Stephanie looked across the desk at her boss.  “Trying to finish up these reports.  I’m going to be away this weekend and wanted to make sure they were done before I left.”

Linda nodded her head.  “You know Janine quit this morning, right?”

Stephanie nodded.  “Yeah.  I do.   Sorry to hear that.”

Linda waved her off.  “I’m not.  She was on her way to being fired anyway.  But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?”  Stephanie interest was piqued.

Linda stood and paced.  “No.  I had hoped to find you earlier today but with so much going on I didn’t have a chance.  You’ve only been here a short time, but your work has been exemplary and you’ve shown great potential.  I’d like to offer you the job as my new assistant.”

Stephanie’s eyebrows rose to her forehead.  Linda wanted her to be Assistant-to-the-Editor? She opened her mouth and closed it again, not quite sure what to say.  Did she want to be Assistant-to-the-Editor?  She opened her mouth again, “I’m flattered Linda, but are you sure I’m the best person for the job?  You said yourself I’ve only been here a short time.”  She didn’t want to take a promotion away from someone more deserving of the position.

“I’m sure.”  Linda nodded firmly and sat back down to lay out the details of the job.  “Look, take the weekend to think about it and let me know your decision on Monday.”  She stood and headed to the door.  “Don’t stay too late, Stephanie.  And enjoy your weekend.”  She stepped out the door and then turned back, “where are you going anyway?”

Stephanie glanced at her computer, her screensaver had taken over and her pictures were floating across the screen.  She smiled at one of Richie.  “Las Vegas.”

Linda nodded.  “Have a good time.”

~

Slamming the trunk, Stephanie pulled open the driver’s side door and dumped her purse and laptop case on the passenger seat before sliding in and setting her travel mug in the cup holder. Shaking the last of the cobwebs from her brain she turned the key and the car growled to life. She glanced at the clock as she backed out of the driveway.  Three in the morning was not at all the hour she had planned on leaving.  But after talking to Richie, she knew where she needed to be.

There was going to be a lot of coffee stops on this trip.

At least the traffic was light at this time of night.  Morning.  Whatever the hell you wanted to call it.  Tuning her Sirius radio to HairNation she let her favorite eighties songs keep her company as she drove down the nearly deserted highway.

She had taken solo road trips before, driving to Joviswillow’s place in New Jersey more than once. She didn’t mind it.  She didn’t usually start out at o’dark early, but that didn’t really matter. A few stops to stretch and for coffee and she’d be fine.  She’d take a nap once she got to Richie and could see for herself that he was really all right.  He had been sounding so down when they talked lately.  And for every time he just showed up out of the blue when she needed someone, it was the least she could do for him.

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time to the classic Loverboy tune.  The eighties had had the best music.

Everybody's working for the weekend
Everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end
Everybody needs a second chance, oh
You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show
Come on baby lets go...

She stopped for coffee and the bathroom around five.  By seven she was pulling up in front of the hotel.  The valet hurried out to meet her and helped her get her bag from the trunk.  “Your keys, ma’am?”  He held out his hand.

Stephanie dug her keys out of her pocket and dangled them over his palm.  It was always so hard to let the car out of her sight.  “You’ll be careful” she glanced at his name tag, “Laurence?”

He nodded solemnly.  “Yes ma’am.”

Taking a breath she dropped the keys to his palm and watched as he got in and slowly drove away.  “You’d better be” she muttered as she turned and headed for the door.

Stepping into the opulent hotel she was greeted by a way-too-perky-for-this-time-of-day blonde concierge.  “Welcome to the MGM Grand ma’am.  How can I help you this fine morning?”

Setting her laptop case on top of her suitcase she rolled both toward the chirpy blonde.  “Do you take care of the hotel VIPs,” she glanced down at the woman’s name tag and tried not to cringe.  She had fully expected to find a heart over both of the “I’s” in her name. “Cindi?” She needed to be able to get into Richie’s room without waking him and hopefully this wanna-be cheerleader would be able to help her.

Her smile widened and her ponytail bobbed as she nodded her head.  “I can certainly help you with that.  Which of our VIPs are you looking for?”

She rubbed her eyes and set her purse on the desk.  The sleepless night was catching up with her.  Glancing around to make sure no one was within hearing distance she leaned across the reception desk.  “Richard” she paused and dug a slip of paper from her purse. She had written down the name he had told her he was using this tour just in case of a situation like this. Looking at the paper she shook her head and laughed quietly.  Really, Rich?  “Richard Dean Martin.”

Cindi bit back a smile and pressed a few keys on her keyboard.  “And are you on his guest list, Ms…?”  She waited for Stephanie to tell her her name.

“Stinson. Stephanie Stinson.”

Cindi scanned the screen, nodding as she went.  “Do you have some identification, please?”

Stephanie produced her driver’s license.

Cindi glanced at it briefly and scanned the screen once more.  “ah, here you are.  Mr. Martin is in room 2511.”  She handed Stephanie back her license and a key card.  “The elevators are right over there.”  She pointed across the lobby.  “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you” Stephanie replied as she took her things and crossed to the elevator.

She leaned against the side of the posh car as it headed up, up, up.  She rubbed her eyes, afraid to close them.  She didn’t want to fall asleep standing here.  She counted the bells as each floor went by.  When the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, she pulled her suitcase behind her and slowly made her way down the lush, carpeted hall.  She looked down at the key and back up to the doors, looking for the right room.  She found it at the end of the hall.

Sliding the card through the lock the light flicked to green and she pushed it open quietly. The curtains in the living area were open, letting in the first fingers of daylight.  Looking around she could see the remnants of a lonely man’s night in.  A near empty bottle of Stoli’s sat open on the end table, the crystal tumbler next to it leaving a wet ring on the wood.  A plate that held a burger with a couple bites taken out of it was on the coffee table, along with a few leftover french fries and a blob of ketchup.  A wadded up napkin lay forgotten on the floor.

And his guitar.  His Martin.  Her favorite of all the ones she had seen him play was laying dejectedly half in and half out of the open case by the sofa.   His notebook was open on the floor, a pencil shoved into the spiral binding.  She could barely make out the faint writing on the page.

I got your picture on my phone
Your voice in my head
And I’m lying here alone
Restless in some faraway bed…

She shook her head, sad for the man who was clearly still struggling with the demons that had taken hold with an iron fist and didn’t want to let go.

Moving further into the room she peeked around the corner into the bedroom.  Richie was buried under the blankets.  All she could see was his dark hair on the snowy white pillow. Parking her things out of the way in the living area she dug into the front pocket of her suitcase, pulling out her toothbrush and toothpaste.  Closing herself in the bathroom she emptied her bladder of the coffee and water she had drank while on the road and brushed her teeth.

Slipping off her shoes, she peeled off her jeans, folded them and left them on the counter. Then, in a move that only a woman can manage, she reached behind her, unhooked her bra and slid it off and out through the sleeve of her t-shirt.  Pushing her fingers through her hair she shut off the light and quietly opened the door.

Crossing into the bedroom, she rounded the bed and crawled in next to Richie.  She pressed her lips to his cheek.  “I’m here, darlin’.”

~

The scent of orchids invaded his dreams.  Moving closer, he burrowed his nose in the dark mass that carried the familiar scent.  This was the best dream he’d had all week.  Reaching out to wrap his arms around her, he startled himself awake when he felt a real body next to him.  

“What the hell?!”

He groaned and rubbed a hand across his face before opening his eyes.  He had gone to bed alone.  He was sure of it.  He hadn’t drank so much that he could forget being with someone. So, who the hell was in his bed?  And how the fuck had she gotten in his room?

Cautiously, he turned his head toward the other body, almost afraid to see who was there. There was a mass of dark hair spread across the other pillow and a slim shoulder peeked above the duvet.  His fear turned to relief when he realized it was Stephanie in the bed next to him.  Relief edged toward concern when he glanced at the clock.  What was she doing here already?  She wasn’t supposed to have been here until lunchtime.

Easing closer, he once again wrapped himself around her, his fingers finding their way under the hem of her t-shirt, feathering lightly across her the smooth skin of her belly, his lips caressing the line of her neck and up to her ear.  “Mornin’ Sweetheart.”

“Mmmmm” she mostly grunted.  “Still sleeping.”  It couldn’t be time to wake up yet.  She had just closed her eyes.  Hadn’t she?”

“What are you doing here” he whispered as he nipped lightly at her lobe.  “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”  His hand crept up the flat of her stomach, his fingers caressing the under-curve of her breast.  “When did you get here?”

A quiet moan escaped her lips and she rolled to her back, sleep was obviously going to have to wait.  “Got here about seven.”  She opened her still tired eyes.  “Wanted to see you.”

Concern swirled in her pretty, witchy eyes.  He couldn’t deny that he was glad to have her here with him, even if she had been pretty reckless at driving all that way in the middle of the night on little or no sleep.   Staring down at her he recalled their conversation from last night, from the last few weeks.  She had come for him.  Not because he had asked her too, but somehow she had known what he needed.  Her.  He had been spiraling lately and somehow she had known that he was in a bad way.  And she had come to him, putting herself at risk for him.  The definition of selfless could be her.

Leaning down he pressed his lip to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.  “Thank you” he whispered and gathered her close, resting her head on his chest.  “Sleep now sweetheart.”  His fingers moved in a soothing rhythm up and down her back as she settled more heavily against him.  “I love you” he whispered as he pressed his lips to the top of her head and held her while she slept.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Pulling a highball glass from under the counter of the bar, he dropped a handful of ice cubes in with a clink and opened the bottle of Stoli Elit.  With a heavy hand he covered the cubes, filling the glass nearly to the top.  One of the perks of staying in a suite at the Four Seasons?  They all had a fully stocked bar.  Richie sipped the premium vodka and stared out at the night sky.  

They had played DC last night and he had taken off right after the show, giving himself some alone time in Boston before the show tomorrow night.  He was wallowing, feeling sorry for himself and the guys didn’t need to see him like this.  He didn’t want them to see him like this.

He missed his girl and his daughter.  The anniversary of his father’s death was looming in the not-too-distant future and he had had fights with both Heather and Denise.  And Nikki was also getting on his nerves lately.  It was all getting to be too much for him.

Tipping the glass to his lips, he drained it and grabbed the bottle for a refill.   His ex-wife needed to mind her own damn business for a change and Denise needed to grow up and forget his phone number.  Jesus she could be so damn clingy and immature.  Whatever had possessed him to seek her out in the first place?  And couldn’t they just be happy that he had met someone that made him happy?  Did they always have to look for the worst in someone?  He shook his head in disgust and took a healthy swallow from the heavy crystal glass.  

And Nikki needed to grow a pair and handle this designing shit on her own.  He had told her from the beginning that he wouldn’t always be available to make the decisions or answer questions. But fuck if she didn’t call him for every damn little thing.  Jesus, you have a brain under that blonde do, just make a decision already.

Fuck.

He was starting to sound like a whiny three year-old.

Draining his glass a second time he set the crystal tumbler on the table next to the nearly untouched plate of food and turned toward the window once more.  Eighteen more days he told himself as he stared out at the Boston skyline.  Stephanie was coming to Las Vegas for the weekend.  

He had eighteen more days until he’d see her again, hold her again, taste her again.  He pulled out his phone, scrolling to the picture of the two of them he had snapped backstage in Toronto. Her hair was a wild mass of waves and curls around her fresh, beautiful face.  Her smile had been wide and playful.  It was the first time since they had met that he hadn’t found any sadness in her face or around her eyes.  She had been so happy.   Sliding his finger across the screen, a second picture came onto the screen.  

He had caught her unaware.  She and Tico had been deep in conversation, oblivious to anyone else.  He had snapped the picture as she had tossed her head back and the carefree laugh had bubbled out of her.  He stroked his finger across her forehead and down along her hair.  God, he was crazy about her.

He picked absently at the plate of food, nibbling on the potato chips as he scrolled from picture to picture before he finally pressed the phone icon to dial her number.

~

Winding her hair up in a clip, Stephanie lit the candles that were scattered across the counter top and window sill.  She hung her bathrobe up on the hook on the back of the door, crossed the room and slipped into the tub of steaming bubbles.  Her muscles groaned with thanks at the welcome relief.  Sinking to her chin in the frothy water she rested her head against the rolled towel she had set at the edge of the tub.  Stretching out her arm, she adjusted the volume on her iPod and closed her eyes while Harry Connick, Jr. crooned her into relaxation.

There was nothing quite like a good hot bubble bath after a long day on the construction site. She chuckled at herself.  She had thoroughly enjoyed swinging her hammer and helping frame-in the walls for the new house.  Working on the habitat house had been a welcome change from the way she usually spent her Saturdays.  And not only was she helping to put a roof over a family’s head, it was keeping her from dwelling on the fact that she was here and Richie was three thousand miles away.

Reaching across to the window ledge she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. Everything was going to ache tomorrow, but she didn’t mind.  All the aches and pains would be worth it in the end when they handed the family the keys to their new house.

The song changed and the haunting, Spanish flavored guitar intro had her thoughts turning from families and new homes to a certain dark haired, sexy guitar player who was on the other side of the country tonight.  Turning her head to gaze out the window she couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing right now.  It was heading toward midnight on the east coast, but she didn’t think he’d be asleep yet.  Was he watching television?  Down in the bar with the guys?  Was he missing her as much as she was missing him?

Eighteen more days she thought as she took another sip of her wine.  Eighteen more days and she wouldn’t have to wonder what he was doing.  Eighteen more days and maybe she’d get a full night’s sleep again.

Setting her wineglass back on the ledge she picked up her phone.   She hadn’t thought she would miss him this much.   Her gaze traveled down her arm and landed on the bracelet he had given her.  His request had been so simple and sweet.  Be my valentine, baby?

Could it really be this easy to fall in love again?  Her phone vibrated in her hand before she could ponder the answer to that question.

A soft smile tugged at her mouth.  “Hey you, I was just thinking about you” she answered quietly as she put the phone on speaker and set it back on the ledge.

Richie’s mood brightened considerably just at the sound of her voice.  He smiled in spite of himself.  “Same goes, sweetheart.  What are you up to tonight?”  The music he could hear in the background got quieter and he noted the tell tale sound of sloshing water.  She must be in the bath.

“I’m enjoying a quiet soak in my tub.”  She leaned back after lowering the volume on the iPod and rested her head once again on the rolled towel.  “I had a hard day swinging my hammer today.”

His eyebrows beetled together at the image she painted.  “Swinging your- and then it clicked.  “Ah, you worked at the habitat house today, right?”  He continued to pick absently at his plate.  The vodka sat all but forgotten.

“Yeah” she replied.  “I helped frame in the walls today.  I’m going to help with the roof next week.  And maybe do some dry walling.  It all depends on how far they get during the week.”

He tried to picture her working on a construction site.  He chuckled at the image that formed in his head of her in a hard hat and tool belt. 

She heard his quiet laugh.  “What are you laughing at over there?”

He shook his head.  “Nothing sweetheart, just trying to picture you building a house and swinging a hammer.”

She smiled and picked up her phone.  With the push of a couple buttons she set the device back on the ledge.  “Rich?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You have mail, darlin’.”

Just as she uttered the words, his phone beeped.

“What did you send me?”  He took the phone from his ear and swiped his finger across the screen.  Instantly he was looking at a picture of her in a pair of ragged, beyond faded jeans, t-shirt, tool belt and a hot pink hard hat. 

“You look damn cute sweetheart.”

“Thanks.”  There was a long pause.  “Rich, are you okay?”  He didn’t sound like his usual cheery self. 

Dragging himself up from the chair his ass had nearly taken root in he wandered to the bedroom and stretched out on the bed.  “I’m better now, baby.”  Leaning back against the headboard, he closed his eyes as they talked.

It was going to be a long eighteen days.