Chapter Five

Present Day
Soho, New York

Behind the huge mahogany desk, Jon sat in the darkness of his study, his chair turned to face the picture window behind the desk. The lights of the city twinkled inside the frame of the window. The silence in the apartment was deafening. It was always like this when the kids weren't there. And the silence usually led him to those dark places he went to sometimes, but not tonight.

Tonight his mind was racing with questions. Questions he'd been asking himself for a week. A whole week. Even with the number of staff members he had working on the puzzle, he still didn't have any answers. It had been seven whole days since he'd seen her standing on that porch in Red Bank, and still he wondered where she'd been the last twenty years.

There had been many times over the two decades since he'd last held her that she'd crossed his mind. Mostly, it was the night that they'd argued that haunted him. He'd been doing research on what he'd considered a handicap, and he'd found out about an implant that would in essence make her able to hear again. It had been a little complicated for him to understand, but basically it would've had a receiver in her brain that would've translated signals sent to it from a transmitter behind her ear and the signal would be sent and interpreted by nerves and she would be able to understand sounds. He'd been completely astonished when she'd blown up. She'd railed at him about how she wasn't broken, that there was no need to 'fix' her. She'd told him through tears that there was no way she'd allow a doctor to cut on her with a knife just to satisfy him.

The argument had gotten very heated, with him trying to convince her that he didn't see her as 'broken', but still wanted her to be able to hear. She had railed and cried, demanding to know why he didn't think she was good enough like she was. He'd finally stormed out of her apartment in frustration, and when he'd went back the next day to try and talk to her again, she'd been gone. No note, no forwarding address, nothing. He'd tried to look for her, but that's when he'd realized that even though she'd allowed him to make love to her, she'd never really let him into her life. He had met Cam, but didn't know where to find the woman, other than the theater. That had turned out to be a dead end. Everyone there had pretended ignorance when he'd visited there. They hadn't just pretended not to know Cam; they'd pretended not to understand him.

Although, he knew how she smelled, could see every slope and plain of her body when he closed his eyes, knew what made her laugh, and what made her cry, he realized that he didn't really know anything about her. At least nothing important. Nothing that would've helped him find her.

He'd finally given up, moved on with his life, and settled down with his high school sweetheart, but green eyes with that strange yellow starburst in the center still haunted his dreams.

Jon wanted to go to the house where he'd found her again, barge up into the damn place and demand the answers he sought, demand that she love him, like she had back then. Unconditionally. She'd told him that she'd never let him go. She'd lied.

And it had damn near killed him.

He had just wanted her to be able to hear him sing a love song to her. A song he'd written for her. How had that translated into her being 'broken'? He'd said that he wanted to give her the moon and the stars. She'd argued that she just wanted him and the moon and stars could stay in the sky. He'd been fascinated that when she lost her temper, she not only railed at him with her voice but her hands and arms had spoke as well. Her emotions caused her to use sign language even with someone like him who didn't understand a lot of it. He'd learned a few things.

He'd been able to tell her he loved her in sign.

It had meant the world to her that he'd cared enough to learn how to tell her in her language. He could still see her eyes pooling with unshed tears as she kissed his face all over saying those three words back to him. Over and over and over.

He took another sip of his wine. It was going to be a long night. Just him and his memories. He'd spent a lot of nights like this. How many more would he have to spend reliving moments better left buried?



Two nights later, Jon caught a break. Funny thing that it should be Richie that discovered something about Kimber, when his axeman didn't even know that he was trying to find out information about her. The call on his cell phone came just as he was getting in the shower, but knowing it was Rich from the ringtone, he'd jerked it up anyway.

"Yeah, man. What's up?"

"What? No, hello Rich, how ya been?" the guitarist laughed.

"Fuck you, Rich. I was about to get a shower. Can we break this down into just a couple of sentences?"

"You mean you're naked? Shit man, call me back when you have clothes on. I certainly don't want that image burned in my brain."

"Damn it, Rich, what in the hell did you call for?"

"Remember the little bartender from the eighties that you had it so bad for? You'll never guess what she's doing now," Richie replied. "But if ya wanna know, c'mon down to a place called Tramp's. It's on Oak Street in Red Bank."

"What the fuck are you doing down there?" Jon asked.

"Came down here to play with some friends. You wanna see her, you better get that narrow ass of yours in gear, man."

"I'll be right there," Jon told him as he hung up the phone.

He hadn't taken a shower that fast since those after show showers in the eighties. When he'd grabbed his keys and left the apartment his hair was still wet and just combed back out of his face. He didn't want to waste a single second, hoping to catch her before she left the bar.



It was another hopping night behind the bar at Tramp's. Kimber had owned this bar for five years now. She'd been so damned happy to get sole custody of the place, along with the return of her maiden name when the divorce had been finalized. The judge had seen it as fitting justice considering she'd saved up the money to buy the place working on that cruise ship, even if she hadn't bought the place until after she'd married Joey.

Joey had been her next door neighbor growing up. He'd always been the one her dad wanted her to marry. So, when Jon broke her heart, she'd ran off and taken the bartending job on the cruise ship that she'd been offered. Joey was working on the ship and had put in a good word for her. They'd worked together for several months before she finally gave in to her father's wishes and married Joey. She should've known it wouldn't last forever though, because her dad loved Joey way more than she did. Joey was like the son he'd never had.

She'd seen Richie when he walked in the door. Hell, he was still hard to miss, even after all these years. The dark headed guitarist was still the hottest man in the place. That is until his best friend walked through the door. Kimber was kicking herself in the ass for not disappearing once she'd seen Richie. She should've known that Jon wouldn't be too far behind.

He'd walked in the door scanning the place with that million watt smile on his face, and she wanted to run, but she'd be damned if she let him run her out of her own fucking bar! Doing her best to ignore him, she kept right on working, making a pina colada for a lady in pink, then moving on to grab a long neck from the barrel of ice by the bottom, twirling it around and across the back of her hand so that she held the bottle right side up and slammed it down on the bar in front of a mountain of a man in a tight black t-shirt. But, she watched Jon out of the corner of her eye the whole time. He still looked good. His hair was shorter now, and even with the leather jacket he had on, she could tell he had a lot more muscle on him now. His blue eyes still twinkled with a devilish glint every time he smiled. And that ass. Damn, it should be against the law to wear jeans that tight if you had an ass like that.

Jon scanned the room as he walked in the door, nodding at Richie when his eyes met his friend's, then moved on until they came to rest on Kimber behind the bar. He calmly walked up and took the only remaining stool at her end of the gleaming mahogany surface.

She still looked good. Long chocolate brown tresses hung down her back, tight denim clung to the curves of her ass, and her t-shirt said 'You're funny, but looks aren't everything'. He smiled; she was the same old Kimber. Then he noticed her feet. She had on tennis shoes. Odd. She'd always worked barefoot before.

He had to give her credit. She could've avoided him altogether and sent someone else to wait on him, but she didn't.

"What'll you have, rock star?" she asked. There was something different about her voice. He'd noticed it on Halloween, but he still couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong about it.

"You," he answered softly.

"I see you're still using the same old bullshit lines," she told him. "Wonder what your wife'd say about that."

"She really can't say too much, since we're divorced," he told her.

"Oh, so she got tired of your tired lines too, huh?"

"Not exactly," he answered.

"What'll you have to drink?" she asked, stressing the last two words, and not wanting to get into the facts of his love life with him.

"A jack and coke, on the rocks," he replied, careful to make sure she was looking at him when he spoke.

Jon watched her twirl the bottle of Jack Daniels around her hand then throw it behind her back catching it with her other hand at her still slender waist before bringing it around to splash some in a glass, then with equal flair she added two fingers of Coke and slid the glass towards him.

"How've you been?" he asked before she could walk away.

"Just peachy," she answered, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist before she could make a clean getaway. She spun back to face him, but didn't say anything just glared at his fingers wrapped around her wrists.

"Still don't like to have your space invaded I see," he said softly.

"Especially not by the likes of you," she quipped frostily.

Jon reluctantly released her. It was only once she was several feet away from him making a margarita for a plump woman in a red sweater that he realized she hadn't been looking at him when he'd spoke to her, but she'd still been able to answer him. What the hell?

Recognizing Tommy when he stepped up to the bar and rang a huge bell, Jon smiled. It must be show time.

"Bar's closed," Tommy announced into the silence that remained after the bell quit clanging.

Then the man took Kimber's hand and helped her climb up on the bar. Blue eyes met green across the crowd, the yellow starbursts seeming bigger as she gave him an evil grin. Aw, fuck.

"He came waltzing in
with that big old grin
like he owned the damn place."

She waved her hand in Jon's direction, and he knew he was in trouble.

"He expected me
to fall at his feet
with a big ol' smile on my face.

I'll have to show the jerk
that's not how I work
even though we've been there before.

He can spend hours
just sending me flowers
and jewelry and chocolates galore.

But I just have to say
it's not a very lucky day
for this blast from my past.

So, please move over
so I can bend over,
and he can just kiss my ass.

Bar's Open!"

Chapter Four

Jon sat in the dark theater, every nerve ending sharply aware of Kimber sitting next to him. She'd explained the etiquette of a hearing impaired show. "No applause," she'd told him, and then shown him how to wave his hands in the air, fingers splayed. She'd explained a lot of things right before they'd entered the theater, but mostly, he'd just concentrated on her lips as she spoke.

Now, he found himself unable to look away from the woman on the stage, even though he could feel the heat from the shapely body next to him. Cam's movements were graceful as she told the story with her hands and her facial expressions. Kimber whispered a translation in his ear every few minutes, but he understood the basics of the story even without Kimber's words.

When the show was over and Cam had taken her final bow, Kimber grabbed him by the hand saying softly, "C'mon," and pulled him behind her. She led him backstage to meet her friend. Jon was prepared for the other woman not to recognize him. So, he'd been caught completely unaware when not only did she recognize him, but she'd been harsh and rude to him, ignoring him and talking quickly to Kimber in sign language.

Once they were outside the theater and standing next to his motorcycle again, Kimber apologized for her friend's behaviour. "I'm sorry, but remember that I tried to warn you."

"I remember," he said, throwing one leg over the bike and sitting down. "What was all of that about anyway?"

"Just the standard lecture about being careful when dealing with 'the hearing'," she answered, shrugging.

He took her hand and helped her climb on the bike. "Where to, baby?"

"Back to Gino's, I guess," she told him.

The ride didn't last nearly as long as Jon would've liked. The motorcycle rolled to a stop in a parking space beside the bar. Jon smiled when Kimber almost threw herself off the bike. He'd used the same low tactics to make her basically wrap herself around him on the ride back, but apparently she wasn't as mad as she wanted him to think she was, because she put one small hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she climbed off the motorcycle. When both her feet were on solid ground again, Jon put the kickstand down and threw a leg over the seat.

"Why did you wanna come back here?" he asked. He knew the place was closed.

"I just live a few blocks from here," she answered.

Jon frowned at her in puzzlement. "You intend to walk home from here, instead of letting me drive you home?"

"Yeah, that was the plan," she replied, shrugging one shoulder.

He took two steps toward her so that he stood toe to toe with her. Kimber thought he was trying to intimidate her and refused to step back. With a defiant tilt to her stubborn little chin, she glared up at him through long lashes, her unusual eyes lit from within with an inner fire.

"I'm about to invade your space," he warned her. Before she could object his lips swooped down to take possession of hers. He could feel the tension rolling off her in waves, even though he only touched her lips. He wanted to let his hands roam over her lush curves, to pull her tightly against him, but he didn't want to make her run, and he could feel she was poised for flight. He nipped gently at her fuller bottom lip before his tongue teased the seam of her lips asking for entrance.

He let out a sigh of contentment when she opened her lips for him and allowed his tongue to dip inside. She tasted of homemade Italian sauce and something sweeter. Kimber. As their tongues tangled, he lifted his right hand to cup her cheek, the callused tip of his thumb stroking the crest of her cheek lightly. Jon almost smiled against her lips when he felt her fingers thread through the long strands of his hair. Finally, he stepped back, smiling at down at her. Kimber's eyes were still closed, her face flushed, and her breathing shallow.

He pulled on a strand of her hair until she opened her eyes. "Get back on the bike, baby," he ordered. "I'm taking you home."

"I can walk," she argued stubbornly.

"I'm sure you can," he told her. "But, my mom would nail me to a wall if I didn't see you home."

"Well, it would be your own fault if you're stupid enough to tell her," she quipped without blinking. That kiss had shook her far worse than she wanted to admit, at least to him.

Jon didn't say anything. Truth be told, he was having a hard time not laughing at her wit. He just stood there looking at her with his trademark smirk, waiting for her to realize she wasn't going anywhere unless she let him take her.

"I had a good time. Good night, rock star," she told him, as she started to step around him.

Jon moved to block her path. He had to do it two more times before she finally stopped and glared at him. "You're not going to let me go unless I let you take me home, are you?"

"Yeah, that was the plan," he threw her words back at her, grinning.

"Fine," she huffed, then stomped toward the motorcycle.

She didn't say anything to him for the short ride to her apartment, just pointing which direction he needed to go. At her building, he helped her climb off the bike. When he bent his head to kiss her again, she placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Why do you think I fought so hard to bring you home?" he asked, grinning down at her. "I saw it as an opportunity to get to kiss you good night twice."

"I don't think so," she told him. She couldn't help but smile at him. He looked so cute. "Good night, rock star."

She turned to walk away but turned back to him, walking backwards and giving him a smile and a wave, and Jon sat back down on the bike. "When can I see you again?" he called out to her.

"That's up to you," she tossed over her shoulder as she turned to walk into her building.

Jon chuckled softly to himself and kick started the bike. He'd be at Gino's tomorrow night. For sure.

Chapter Three

The next day was Kimber's day off, and with it being Sunday the bar was closed. She'd chosen to meet Jon here because she didn't want him to know where she lived. She'd always been careful about letting someone get too close, and one of the ways she'd done that was not letting anyone into her private space. Her best friend Cam constantly told her she needed to get out more, meet new people, but Kimber had been hurt entirely too many times. Kimber had met Cam at the private school for the deaf that her parents had sent her when she'd lost her hearing at age eight. Cam had immediately liked the new girl, and they'd become fast friends. Cam had been deaf since birth, but she hadn't seemed to share the prejudices of the other kids. They'd all had a big problem with the fact that Kimber had been born hearing.

There was a definite division, at least to the deaf community, between the "hearing world" and their own. As far as the kids at the school were concerned, Kimber belonged to the "hearing world", even if she was deaf. Kimber had always been keenly aware that she didn't fit into either of the two worlds. She didn't have a whole lot of faith that tonight would lead to anything other than a nice dinner with a great looking guy. Kimber didn't consider herself a pessimist. No, she was a realist, and the reality of this situation was that like it or not, she and Jon came from two different worlds. He could hear, and she couldn't.

Kimber only lived three blocks from Gino's. In fact, everything she needed was just a few blocks from her little studio apartment. That's why she didn't own a car; she just walked every where she needed to go. While she was getting ready for this date, she'd realized that she didn't know what to wear. She should have asked Jon where he intended to take her. Shrugging, she'd decided on black jeans and a red, silk blouse. She'd pulled her red cowboy boots out of the closet to match her blouse. The walk to Gino's didn't take her very long, and she enjoyed the evening air. It was late spring, and all the window boxes and yards were in bloom. She walked past Mrs. Jacobs yard and took a deep breath. Mrs. Jacobs was more than proud of her yard, and the gardenias were Kimber's favorite. Cam called it her 'signature scent'. Her friend said that every woman needed a signature scent to make a man remember her until the end of time, every time he smelled that smell. So, Kimber owned everything in gardenia scents. Bath oils, soap, lotion, shampoo, conditioner and, of course, perfume.

When she walked into Gino's parking lot, she was surprised to see Jon already there. She'd timed her arrival to be just five minutes early. She'd really intended to only wait until 6:00 straight up, then she'd been going to leave. Apparently, he'd taken her at her word and didn't want to miss out. He really was gorgeous. He sat leaning against a motorcycle, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his light brown hair looked tossled, windblown and sexy. His blue eyes flashed as he smiled at her.

"'Bout time you got here," he teased.

"Were you waiting long?" she asked.

"No, but I'd have waited all night."

"That's one," she remarked, as she walked around the bike, looking it over.

"One what?" he asked.

She didn't answer him, and it took him a minute to realize she wasn't looking at him. He'd have to remember to make sure that she was looking at him when he spoke to her. With one hand, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Kimber jumped as if he'd burned her. He held his hands up in an innocent gesture, trying to show her that he meant her no harm. "I was just trying to get your attention," he explained. "I said, one what?"

"For future reference, to get my attention you don't have to grab me. Just lightly touch my shoulder or arm. And, I meant one line. I intend to keep count tonight."

"A bit jumpy aren't ya?"

"I just don't like people to invade my space," she told him. She went back to examining the bike.

"Doesn't like to have her space invaded?" he asked himself, since she wasn't looking at him. "This could be a real long night."

"She's a beauty," Kimber complimented, when she'd finally looked her fill of the bike.

"Yes she is," Jon answered, though his eyes were on her. She'd worn her long, chocolate brown hair loose, and it hung in waves down her back. The red of her shirt just brought out the green in her beautiful eyes and made the yellow starbursts more prominent. The black denim of her jeans clung to her thighs and the curves of her ass like paint on a wall.

"And, that would be two," she commented as she threw her leg over the bike. "Are we going somewhere or not, rock star?"

"Yeah, sure," he answered, climbing on the bike.

When he took off, he noticed that Kimber hugged the motorcycle with her legs and kept her hands on her thighs. Grinning, he gunned the engine, making the bike jerk forward. His grin turned into a full-blown smile when she instinctively gabbed his waist to keep from falling backwards. She might not want him to touch her, but he most certainly wanted her to touch him.

As Kimber got more familiar with the feel of the bike and Jon's driving, she put her hands back on her thighs. In response, Jon gunned the engine again. After he'd done that a couple of times, Kimber got the message and left her hands on his waist. She leaned foward to say in his ear, "I get the hint, rock star."

Jon's laughter floated away on the wind. She couldn't hear it, but she could feel his sides shaking.

Jon drove them to a little out of the way, mom and pop, Italian diner. Kimber smiled at him as he offered her a hand to help her off the bike. He was being such a gentleman, and that was a huge contradiction to the rock star image she'd had in her mind. He steered her toward the door with one large hand at the base of her spine. His hand continued to brand her as he was greeted warmly by the man that met them at the door. Jon was obviously a regular here, because the man treated him like family. Jon introduced them and explained to Kimber that Manny and his wife owned the place. Manny was very gracious to Kimber, showing them to a booth in the corner. Jon stood by Kimber's side of the booth as she slid into it, then moved to sit with his back to the door.

At first, Kimber wondered about that, but realized that he didn't want to be recognized by people coming in the door, and with his back to the room, patrons that were already there wouldn't be able to stare at him as they tried to determine if he was who they thought he was. While she sat looking at the menu, he sat looking at her. It made her a little uncomfortable when she looked up into sky blue eyes.

"What?" she asked. "We haven't eaten anything, so I know I don't have food in my teeth."

"You're beautiful," he said softly. Suddenly, he had an epiphany. If she only read lips, he didn't have to say anything out loud. No one would be able to eavesdrop on his side of the conversation. That might come in handy, a little later in this relationship. He didn't want to shock her this early with talk about what he'd like to do with her, to her. How he'd like to have her legs wrapped around his waist while he drove inside her.

Kimber's words broke his naughty train of thoughts. "Thank you, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Look, Jon," she paused and smiled. "Number three by the way."

"Are ya really gonna keep count all night?"

"Yep," she nodded.

"What were you gonna say?"

"Huh?"

"'Look, Jon', what?"

"Oh. I was just gonna tell you that you didn't have to use all your lines. I only agreed to come with you tonight to be able to explain to you why there couldn't ever be anything between us," she told him, looking back at her menu.

He couldn't believe this. She was turning him down! Oh, he'd been turned down before, contrary to popular belief, but never without at least getting a chance. She was shooting him down without even giving him a decent shot. He reached across the table to lift her chin so that she could see him ask, "Why?" He was so glad she couldn't hear the almost whinny quality in his voice.

She shrugged. "You can hear; I can't," she said, as if that explained everything.

Impatiently, Jon demanded, "So? What's your point?"

He had to wait to get her answer, because Manny came up to their table to take their order. Tapping his fingers on the table, Jon waited while she told Manny what she wanted, then quickly snapped out his order. When Manny walked away with a puzzled expression on his face, Jon asked, "Well?"

Smiling patiently at him, she answered, "We come from two different worlds, Jon."

"So?"

Jon stared at her as she comtemplated his question. How could she explain the boundary between the their two worlds, when she stood firmly on the imaginary line herself? Jon could see the wheels turning behind those unusual hazel eyes, but he didn't interrupt her thoughts. Finally, she began to explain how she'd always felt. She told him about not losing her hearing until she was eight years old and about her years at school, where she'd felt left out because she hadn't been born deaf like so many of the other children. She even told him about Cam.

During her explanation, their dinner came. They ate while she continued to describe her life to him. She'd never told anyone all of this, except her family and Cam. She couldn't quite believe she was spilling her guts to him like this. Of course, she'd never let a man get past the actual asking her to go out with them. She usually just told them no and shot them down. Thinking she'd finally made her point, she ended with, "So, you see why it would never work out between us, right?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head, his long hair dancing around his shoulders.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "But, I just told you..."

He interrupted her. "What you just told me was...that you're prejudiced against me because I can hear. Does that really seem fair to you? Did it seem fair when those other kids treated you differently because you weren't born deaf?"

"Well, no," she admitted.

"Then how is it fair for you to treat me the same way?"

She took several bites of her dinner before she finally answered him. "I guess it isn't."

"Okay then," he told her, smiling. "Quit counting my lines, and give me a real chance."

Manny came to take their empty plates away, and Kimber glanced at her watch. "Aw, damn."

"What is it?" Jon asked, his voice tinged with laughter.

"I really thought I'd have pissed you off and sent you running for the hills by now. Cam's got a show tonight, and I promised her I'd come. It starts in a half hour."

"What kind of show?"

"A one woman show. She's an actress."

"Let's go," he told her, getting up from the table.

"You don't have to go," she told him.

"But, I want to," he replied, as he threw some bills on the table, then led her to the door.

Chapter Two

Still smiling, Kimber watched as first astonishment and then blank stares came over the two faces in front of her.

"Deaf?" Jon asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, "deaf, as in deaf as a door knob. As in, can't hear a thing. As in, living in a world..."

He interrupted her. "I think we get the idea," he commented dryly, the corners of his lovely mouth lifting in a wry grin. He had on what he called his game face. The blank stare and slight grin he gave to reporters or photographers when he wasn't sure what to say or how to react. Meanwhile, behind those blue eyes, a million thoughts flashed across his mind in a matter of milliseconds, and they all had to do with things she'd never heard. She'd never heard a bird sing, Bruce belt out Jersey Girl or Born to Run, nor had she heard the Stones perform It's Only Rock and Roll. She'd never felt Steven's voice wrap around her while he sang Sweet Emotion. Or worse, she'd never heard Elvis.

Then, another thought flashed right behind the others. She'd never heard him sing, which probably meant she had no idea who he was, or that now he had trouble hitting the high notes in Prayer and Wanted.

She started speaking again, and he snapped out of his thoughts. "You two look familiar, have you guys ever been in here before?"

Richie almost choked on the drink he was taking a sip of, but it was Jon that answered her. "Nope, a friend said this was a great place to unwind while we were in town."

"I thought you said that you were from here," she said, thoughtfully.

"We are, but we travel a lot," he answered quickly. His wingman knew what he was doing and, for once, kept his mouth shut and his smart ass comments to himself.

Kimber felt the mat under her feet vibrate. "Well, guys, I gotta get back to work. There's somebody down there," she motioned with her hand at the other end of the bar, "that needs a drink."

"How do you know that?" Richie asked.

She pointed at the mat beneath her feet. "This mat vibrates when someone pushes that red button over there." A wave of her hand indicated the sign and button that the two of them had noticed earlier. "Back to work, you guys need anything before I go?"

"No, we're fine," Jon answered.

When she'd walked away, Richie turned toward Jon. "That was your opening, man."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Oh hell, Jon, a million responses all come to mind to that question. Do you need anything? Yeah, you. Or, yeah, your legs around my waist. Or, yeah, your lips on my..."

Jon quickly interrupted him. "I get the picture," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. The truth was he got the picture all too well and blamed his friend for putting those pictures of her beneath him and her on her knees in front of him in his head. He slugged Richie's shoulder. "Thanks a lot, pal," the sarcasm still in his voice.

"You're thinking 'bout it, aren't ya?" Richie asked laughing, knowing exactly what he'd done.

"Fuck you, Rich," Jon said, without heat.

"Careful. Such language. Considering the lady in question can read lips and is looking in our direction," Richie teased.

Jon swore softly and immediately turned his back to the bar. "Damn it, Rich. Shut the fuck up. I need a few minutes to process this."

"What's there to process?" Richie asked. "Well, other than the obvious. You want her."

"Either shut up, or turn your back to her. I'd like to keep this conversation private....please," Jon told him.

Richie was enjoying himself entirely too much to comply with Jon's request. He'd never seen Jon like this. "The woman is hot and sexy as hell, Jon. I know you saw her first, and I'll respect your claim, but if the deaf thing bothers you, I'll step in. Because, it certainly doesn't bother me."

Jon turned around because he certainly wanted her to read his lips for this part of the conversation. "The 'deaf thing' doesn't bother me." He turned back to face the room.

"Then what is it?"

"You wouldn't understand, Rich," he answered, impatient now. He was unsure how to explain it all to Richie, but he knew his friend wouldn't let up until he answered him.

Richie had a good idea what was bothering Jon, but replied, "So, make me understand."

Jon had been awkward in high school. He'd taken up the guitar to impress the girls. There was one sure thing when you were young...the jocks got the girls, and Jon had been too short and enitrely too skinny for football. So, he'd taken up music. Musicians had just as good a shot at the girls as jocks, well rock musicians anyway, not a school band geek. The one thing he felt he had going for him, she wouldn't get because she was unable to hear it.

He tried to explain that to Richie. "My music wouldn't mean shit to her."

"So?" Richie could be so dense sometimes.

"So," Jon tried again, "I'd just be on my own. Jon Bon Jovi, rock star, wouldn't impress her."

"And?"

Was he gonna have to hit Rich on the head with a rock? "Dammit Rich. Music's my gimmick, always has been. I don't use the sappy romantic lines that you throw out like they're nothing. I just pick up my guitar."

Richie understood, even if Jon didn't think he did. When he looked in the mirror, Jon didn't see what every woman in the world saw. Jon couldn't understand their fascination with his looks. Even Richie could admit that Jon was a great looking guy, apparently with a nice ass. Richie had even envied that ass, for a short time. Hell, he'd told an interviewer once, "Jonny boy might have the ass, but I've got it where it counts. Up front." Now, to Jon he said, "I get it now, you're shy."

"Shy?" Jon asked in astonishment. "Kiss my ass, Rich."

"Yeah, shy," Richie answered, grinning like a loon. He was enjoying this. "Your Giants tickets for this weekend against my Clapton tickets for the show in London says you can't rake up the balls to ask her out before we leave here tonight."

"You're on," Jon said softly.

At the other end of the bar, Kimber made a pina colada for a lady, but she continually watched Jon and Richie. She caught pieces of the conversation they were having about her, in between making the drink and looking their way. She read Richie's lips for the smart ass comments about how Jon should've answered her question and understood perfectly Jon's curse of 'Fuck you, Rich'. She almost laughed out loud at Richie's words about her 'eavesdropping' and Jon immediately turning his back to the bar. She would've missed Jon's statement about her being deaf not bothering him, if his quick movement when he turned back to face the bar hadn't caught her eye. But, she missed the rest of their conversation because Gino came up to ask her about her upcoming 'performance' on the bar.

Every night at about the same time, she would get up on the bar and do a little something. Sometimes it was just doing some fancy bottle throwing while music played really loud, timing her movements to the beat of the drums or bass that she could feel but not hear. And, other times, she'd give them a poem. Although, the poem's weren't really her thing, everyone had seen Cocktail and thought that all 'flair bartenders' were like Tom Cruise in the movie. They expected her to be a 'bar room poet' too. She spent the next half hour til 'show time' composing a poem in her head. She didn't want to use the one she'd written last night; she'd been inspired by a pair of charming blue eyes.

"Bar's closed," Tommy announced to the bar, and pushed the red button several times to get Kimber's attention. "It's Show Time!"

Kimber felt the mat vibrating and turned toward Tommy. Smiling at the room, she wiped her hands on her denim clad thighs and climbed the step ladder to the bar, consious of every eye in the room on her. She scanned the crowd, saw the applause and took a flamboyant bow. When she stood back up, her eyes met grinning blue eyes and she smiled before starting her poem.

"Back here, I've seen it all
from door's open to last call.
All the guys try their best line.

From 'I like your accent',
and 'I'd pay your rent',
To 'Hey baby, what's your sign?'

Now, I've seen some real cuties
and some real tight booties,
And, I've just let 'em all go.

There's been some real losers
and some hard core boosers,
That I wouldn't touch with a 10 foot pole.

Hope you've got your 4-leaf clover,
'Cause tonight, I've been won over,
by a pair of charming blue eyes."

Then she looked straight at Jon, and he felt a bolt of electricty all the way to his toes.

"So, take that chance....
and, take off your pants,
And, prove they're not all lies.

Bar's Open!"

She held out her hand and Tommy took it quickly to help her jump down from the bar. When her feet were on the mat again, Tommy looked her dead in the eye.

"Did you mean what I think you meant?" he asked her.

"Depends," she answered, "what did you think I meant?"

"Him," he answered, jerking his head in Jon's direction.

"Yeah, him," she nodded.

"Do you know who he is?" Tommy asked, grinning.

"Nope, should I?"

"Maybe not, since you don't listen to a lot of music," he replied, sarcastically, although she coudn't hear it in his voice she could read it on his face. "But, the guy's picture has been all over every magazine on the shelf, and his name's on everyone's lips, him being a 'hometown boy' and all."

"Well?" she demanded, "Come on, enlighten me, Tommy. I know you're just dying to."

"He's Jon Bon Jovi."

Tommy was right; she didn't listen to a lot of music, but even she had 'heard' that name and knew who he was. "Well, fuck!" she cursed.

Tommy threw back his head and laughed. Sobering, he grinned at her, "Glad I could let ya know what you were in for."

"Smart ass," she said, slugging his shoulder. "Ya coulda told me before I got up on the bar and made an ass of myself."

"Aww, but it's such a cute ass," Tommy teased, pinching her cheek.

"Back to work," she muttered.

"Wanna trade ends?" he asked her.

"And put me down there with him? Not on your life!"

"There's no way then that I could talk you into it?" Tommy asked with a smirk.

"Nope," she answered quickly. "No way will I trade."

"Okay, then," he told her shrugging. "Just don't ask me to trade later."

"Don't worry about it," she told him. She started to turn and walk away but stopped to add, "And if I ask, by all means tell me no."

"You got it," he told her, even though she was no longer facing him, and he knew she wouldn't be able to read his lips.

Kimber's mood immediately darkened even more when she turned to find that Jon and Richie had moved to sit at her end of the bar. Turning back to Tommy, she muttered, "Fuck you, Tommy."

Tommy laughed but made sure she could read his lips before replying, "Is that an invitation?"

"No, a suggestion," she sassed, then deicded to suck it up and go to work.

Jon and Richie had blatantly eavesdropped on the conversation between Kimber and Tommy, but only caught bits and pieces. Jon wasn't too happy that Tommy had felt the need to enlighten Kimber on the topic of his identity, but he let it go. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't care.

She approached the end of the bar where the two gorgeous men were sitting, one light, one dark. They reminded her of two fallen angels. Richie had the dark look of Lucifer himself, and Jon had the golden good looks that made him look almost redeemable, if not for the lure of the epitome of the dark side sitting beside him. Briefly, she wondered about the trouble these two had caused in their lifetimes and how many of those escapades Richie had dragged Jon into with just a mention of the temptations to be had. And how many Jon and initiated, with a twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes.

"So, Rock Stars," she said softly, "need anything?"

Jon flinched when Richie's elbow connected with his ribcage, accompanied by a soft snort of laughter. A quick motion of Jon's hand silenced Richie. The singer's eyes bored into Kimber's and made her weak in the knees long before the one word answer took her breath. "You."

Kimber blinked owlishly at him, before laughing shakily. "I'm not sure I know how to make that one. Wanna help a girl out?"

A devilish glint flashed in Jon's eyes and had Kimber rethinking who got who into more trouble. "I'd be happy to help ya out," he commented dryly, "but those kind of lessons require a bit more privacy. Not that I can promise that we could make another you, but I bet we could make one that looked a lot like you."

Her bare toes curled into the mat. She quickly realized that this man could drive an angel to sin and her completely insane. Hoping she wasn't about to make a huge mistake, she tossed back, "What's this? You've only known me a couple of hours and already you're offering to make a baby with me? Jeez, man, you move too fast for me."

"I was offering to teach you how to make one," he corrected. "We'll have lots of fun with your lessons, although, there will be tons of homework."

"You must not be a very good teacher then, if one lesson's not enough," she answered saucily, as she wiped down the bar.

"Oh, baby," Jon told her, he voice dropping to a sexy rasp, "I'm a great teacher."

Richie rolled his eyes, and had Kimber wondering how many times Jon had used that particular line. That's what kept her from just jumping over the bar to sexually assault him. Instead, she heard herself laugh. "I just bet you are, Rock Star," she shook her head, grinning. "I just bet you are." She paused briefly. "Do you two need anything to drink, or not?"

With his hand around a beer bottle, Richie shook his head. "Not me."

"Have dinner with me tomorrow night," Jon said.

"You gonna use all your lines then?" she asked.

He flashed her a boyish grin. "Only the best ones."

Kimber pushed rational thoughts aside. "Meet me here at six sharp tomorrow evening. Don't be late, Rock Star, 'cause I'll be outta here by 6:01."

"I'll be here," he promised softly. "Now, can I get another Jack and Coke?"

She nodded, all business now. Jon watched with admiration while she expertly tossed the whiskey bottle in the air, catching it behind her back, then twirling the long bottle around her hand and pouring some into a glass adding a splash of Coke. She slid the glass toward him, and murmured, "Enjoy," before she turned to take another customer's order.

Chapter One

Sayerville, New Jersey, 1988


Kimberleigh Cartwright was what they called a 'flair bartender', long before Tom Cruise made them famous in the movie Cocktail. Her dad had taught her how to throw a bottle of 'Jack' behind her back and over her shoulder before she was six years old. She'd been the top attraction and the best bartender at Gino's Bar for 8 months, since she turned 21. Gino was tickled to death to have her; she could really pack them in on a Saturday night. Gino liked the fact that no matter what band was playing on the stage Kimber never got distracted, but the patrons usually paid more attention to her than they did the bands. Gino told her all the time that she was good enough for one of the big bars in New York City, but he was tickled that she had walked into his joint.

On any given Saturday night, the regulars at Gino's knew they'd find Kimber in skin tight jeans, and a t-shirt with some smart ass slogan on the front, with her long chocolate brown hair streaming wildly down her back, her strange green eyes with a yellow starburst in the center flashing with every smile she bestowed on some lucky guy, and she'd be barefoot. She owned the behind the bar area when she was there. She'd never dropped a glass or a bottle so the barefoot thing was never an issue with her. The other bartenders were always careful when they worked with her because they knew the lack of shoes was a necessity. The specially made mat on the floor behind the bar was just as important. They didn't serve food at Gino's so the Health Department hadn't been too picky about it, especially knowing the circumstances. The inspector understood the reasons for her going without shoes and looked the other way.

Behind the bar, Kimber had a commanding presence, and you couldn't help but notice her, even if she was only 5' 5". However, if she wasn't behind the bar, she was quiet and shy. This particular Saturday night she was in rare form. The smart ass slogan on the front of her black t-shirt said 'It's not my job to say I'm cute...It's yours". The shirt itself was tucked into skin tight black jeans that hugged her tiny waist and cupped her firm ass lovingly.

She'd noticed the two long haired men sitting at the other end of the bar the moment they'd walked into the place. Something about them tugged at her memory, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where she knew them from. Tommy, the other bartender, was working that end of the bar and seemed awful familiar with them, so he must know them. One was tall, at least 6 foot, with long dark hair and warm chocolate eyes. The other was a bit shorter, perhaps 5' 10" or so, with long light brown hair, sparkling baby blue eyes, and a disarming smile. Even as she made an Alabama slammer for a guy in a tight black t-shirt and a blue bandana, her eyes kept straying to the two men at the end of the bar. Maybe it was because she knew they were talking about her, and maybe it was just because they were the best looking men in the place.

At the other end of the bar, Richie shoved Jon's shoulder. "Why don't you ask her out, Kidd?"

"I just might before the night's over," Jon answered. "Have you noticed that she's barefoot?"

"Yeah," Richie nodded, "quite sometime ago."

"I think that's hot," Jon said, smiling.

"Somehow, I knew you would," Richie commented. "That's kinda scary actually."

"What? That I think it's hot, or that you knew I would?"

"Both," Richie laughed.

Smiling warmly, Tommy walked up to them. "You two doing okay? Ya need anything?"

"Information," Jon answered.

"What kind of information?" Tommy asked warily.

"I noticed a sign at the other end of the bar when we came in," Jon told him, "the one that says 'If Kimber's behind the bar alone, push the red button for service'. Is she Kimber?" he asked nodding toward the woman in question.

"Yep," Tommy nodded, "that's the famous Kimberleigh Cartwright. Just wait 'til she gets up on the bar in about an hour. She'll blow you guys away."

"She's already blown my friend here away," Richie told him. "Is she single?"

"Yeah," Tommy answered, "but she's real particular. Can't say as I've ever seen her with a guy. Turned me down flat right after I went to work here."

"Do ya think we could get an introduction?" Jon asked softly.

Tommy answered quickly, "Sure." But, he didn't move to get the woman. Tommy took a drink order from a woman who walked up and was quickly making her drink.

When Tommy was finished with the customer, Jon asked, "About that introduction?"

Tommy laughed. "I don't have to go get her. She reads lips. If she wants to meet you guys, she'll be over here in a second."

"She reads lips?" Richie asked in astonishment, as Jon groaned in embarrassment.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "so if she was interested enough in meeting the two of you, she was watching and knows you want an introduction. If she isn't interested and wasn't watching, you two are just shit outta luck." Tommy turned and walked a few feet down the bar to take a drink order from another patron.

Jon and Richie watched the woman as she made a drink for a muscle bound man in a red tank top. Gracefully, with her left hand down by her waist, she threw the bottle of liquor behind her back and over her right shoulder, catching it quickly with her left hand, before turning it upside down to pour the dark liquid in the shot glass in front of her, then slid it forward towards the man. She sat the bottle down on the counter behind the bar and quickly made her way over to them.

Sticking out one hand to Jon, she said with a strange accent, "I'm Kimber, and you are?"

Jon shook her hand. "I'm Jon, and this is my friend, Richie."

Richie reached out to take the small hand that he was offered and pumped it once. "Nice to meet you," he told her, smiling.

"Nice to meet you two as well," she answered. "You guys from here?"

"Yeah," Jon replied. He was wondering about her accent; he couldn't quite figure out what kind of accent it was. and it bothered him. "You?"

"Actually, I'm from Perth Amboy, but I moved here a few months ago," she answered.

"That doesn't exactly sound like a Jersey accent," Jon pointed out.

Used to that kind of comment, she said patiently, "Jon, this isn't an accent," she paused for effect, "I'm deaf."

Prolog

Present day....


This was probably his least favorite holiday. Until this year. Since the divorce, it had gotten harder and harder to see his kids. The combination of his busy schedule and his ex-wife's mercurial mood swings had made it very tough, but she'd agreed to let him take Jake and Romeo trick-or-treating. Steph and Jesse were back at his place handing out candy, but his precious daughter was going on a hayride with some friends in about two hours. So, he had to hurry up and get this whole trick-or-treating thing over with his two youngest sons, or he wouldn't get to spend any time with Steph. He'd tried to talk her and Jesse into coming with him and their brothers, but the two of them had steadfastly refused, insisting that this part of Halloween was for babies, and that they were too old for it.

He steered the boys up the walk-way of a pretty little yellow cottage style house. What was this about the 20th house tonight? How many were required before he could take the boys and just go home?

"Trick or treat," his two youngest chorused in unison, when the door opened, jerking him out of his ponderings.

"Aren't you two just the cutest?" a pretty brunette with the most beautiful green eyes asked.

She seemed somehow familiar, but Jon couldn't remember where he'd met her.

Looking at Jake and dropping candy in his bag, she said, "Okay, I get that you're a transformer," then she turned to Romeo giving him his fair share of the goodies, "but what are you?"

Jon smiled at the question that had been asked repeatedly all night. Romeo had insisted on making his own costume, and Jon had made a promise when Steph was born that he would never try to stiffle any of his children's artistic talents. So, he'd allowed his youngest to make his own costume.

Romeo shouted eagerly, the same thing he'd said over and over tonight, "Guess!"

The woman took in the small boy. He wore regular clothes but had a small, square, box type hat perched on his small blond head that had some type of wire coming off the side with a styrofoam depiction of the Earth hanging from it.

"Uh," she glanced helplessly at Jon then back at Romeo, "can I get a hint?"

"Sure," the little boy grinned up at her, and reached out and slapped the Earth, making it spin around him. "Dere ya go!"

"Ok, I have no idea," she admitted after a few seconds.

"I'm da center of my daddy's you'verse," the boy smiled proudly. "See how da whole wold 'volves 'round me?"

The woman's laughter was infectious, and Jon joined in even though he'd heard his son's explanation over and over again. Then his eyes met her's and he noticed the unusual yellow starburst in the center of her green eyes. He'd only met one woman in his entire life with eyes like that.

"Kimber?"

She seemed startled that he'd recognized her, but she quickly recovered, reaching out and taking his hand to place a single Hershey's kiss in his palm. "And I suppose you're a pirate? Huh, Captain Kidd?"

"Kimber, I..."

She interrupted him, "You two boys are just the cutest. And," she looked at Romeo, "I think your costume is by far the best I've seen all night! You two have fun now."

She turned to go back in the house, and the boys began to tug at Jon's hands. "C'mon Daddy, let's go to the house with the spooky skeleton out front," Jake pleaded.

"No, Daddy," Romeo begged, "dat place looks scary. Let's go see da big pum'kin," he said pointing at a house with an inflatable jack-o-lantern as big as a hummer in the yard.

"Jakey," Jon explained, "let's go see the 'big pum'kin'."

Jake looked at his younger brother and nodded solemnly. The trio started off toward the house, but Jon looked back over his shoulder one last time at the little house. He'd go now, but now that he'd found her again, he would be back!

Welcome...

Jon meets Kimber in a bar and discovers his usual come-ons aren't going to work. This time his music and celebrity aren't going to get him very far; he'll just have his charm and smile to work with.

If you're just starting this story, it begins here. But, if you've been along for the ride, the latest chapter is here.