Chapter Six

Jon sat at the bar with his mouth open as she climbed down off the bar.  Kiss her ass?  Yeah, he'd like to do that and more.  His eyes freely roamed her curves.  What was it about this woman that had always made his brain take a vacation while his dick took full control?  While the brain's away the dick will play.

His eyes took in her every move, while he nursed his jack and coke, until Richie slapped him on the back.

"Wow, is this deja vu or what?" Richie teased, as he took the bar stool next to Jon.

"Yeah.  I guess it is," Jon answered, looking down at the drink in his hand.

Richie had known Jon for too many years.  He could feel Jon's pain as if it was his own.  Jon had never told him what happened between him and the little bartender.  All his friend had ever told him was that she'd left him.  It had seemed weird to Richie that Jon hadn't ever talked about it with him; Jon told him everything.  After hearing Kimber's poem though, Richie was sure the story was worth hearing.

"Ready to tell me what happened yet?" Richie asked.

"Nope," Jon replied quickly.

"C'mon Kidd, ya know ya wanna talk about it," the guitarist tried again.

"Drop it, Swingman," Jon ordered tersely.

Richie didn't take offense at Jon's tone.  There was a truly deep and abiding brotherly love between the two men.  It would take a lot more than a few hard words or harsh tone to change that.  The guitarist just smiled, the corners of his full lips lifting just the slightest bit.  Jon might not want to talk about it now, but he would.

Into the silence, Jon tried to change the subject.  "How long ya been here?"

"Long enough to see the young man that dropped her off," Richie answered.

"Young man?"  Jon asked.

"Yeah," Richie nodded.  "Nice lookin' too.  Maybe she's into younger men now."

"How young?" Jon questioned, although he didn't really care.  He was willing to discuss anything except what had happened 20 years ago.

Kimber stopped Richie from answering when she walked up to the two of them.  "Hello Rich."  She motioned to the glass in the guitarist's hand.  "Can I get ya a refill?"

"Sure thing, sweets," Richie answered, using the old nickname out of habit.  "Coke straight up if ya please.  Maybe just a little ice," he added grinning, sliding his glass across the bar towards her.

Kimber raised an eyebrow at the order, but didn't question the fact that after two decades the axeman wasn't drinking anything stronger than Coke.  She refilled his glass and carefully slid it across the bar to him.  It took every ounce of willpower she had not to let her eyes drift over to Jon, but somehow she managed.  "Let Tommy know if ya need anything else," she said softly.

Turning on her heel she strode quickly away from them.  The two men heard her call out to Tommy as she marched away that she was taking a break, then watched her disappear through a door on the other side of the bar.  Jon jerked his head toward Tommy, and immediately Richie read his mind.  The guitarist quickly set out to distract the bartender so that Jon could sneak through the door that was clearly labled 'Employees Only'.

Knowing he wouldn't receive a warm welcome, Jon didn't bother to knock on the oak door.  He stepped through the door to find Kimber kicked back behind a big desk, with her back to him.  Thoughts of Sam's office on Cheers flashed through his mind.  He knew she could hear him, so he didn't wait until she turned to face him to speak.  "We need to talk."

"Naaaa, I don't think we do," she answered, without turning around.

"Where did you disappear to back then?" he asked, ignoring her obvious desire for him to leave her alone.

"None of your business," she replied, her voice hard and cold.

"None of my business?" he demanded.  "Where the fuck do you get off?  I was in love with you."

"You had a funny way of showing it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's not dig up old bones, and get into the whole broken-fix argument again."

"You weren't broke, and I didn't want to fix you," he said angrily, quickly crossing the room to the desk.

"You couldn't've proven it by me."

She still hadn't turned to face him, so he spun the chair around so that she was looking up at him.  Leaning over her, he clenched his jaw to keep from screaming his rage at her.  "If having the implant surgery was so repugnant to you, why did you have it done?"

"None of your damn business," she answered.

Jon knew that he wouldn't get any where with her by using force.  With a hand on each chair arm, he caged her in.  He leaned down close to her, his breath ghosting across her skin and tickling the shell of her ear.  "All I ever wanted was you," he whispered in her ear.  "I loved you.  You were my everything."

Kimber shivered at more than his words.  His nearness was affecting her a lot more than she was willing to admit.  "Then why did you leave me alone.  Why didn't you come for me when I asked you?"

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"As if you didn't know," she quipped. 

"I don't.  But, I can promise you this....I will."  He turned and strode from the room.  One way or the other he would find out what went on 20 years ago, with or without her help.

He marched out into the bar and quickly crossed to the entrance.  Richie saw him leaving and ran to catch up with him.  "Kidd, wait up," he called out.

In the parking lot, Jon finally stopped and spun to face his friend.  "I'm not in the mood for any smart ass shit, Rich."

"Smart ass?  Me?  Never."  Richie grinned at him with amusement twinkling in his brown eyes.  "To answer your question from earlier....I'd say he was about 19.  Brown over blue.  Amazingly enough, he looked a hell of a lot like you, bro."