21 - Complicated

“No.”  Jon’s refusal to discuss what haunted him was flat and final.  Or so Cassidy thought until he pushed himself off of her and rolled to his back.  “I don't want to talk about it, but I don’t have much fucking choice.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant or what he needed from her now that he’d had her body.  Did she scoot close and pet him in an effort to soothe, or did she let him have his space?

How ‘bout you ask him?

“So there’s no misunderstandin’ and all that,” she broached quietly.  “Do you want your space right now?  Physically, I mean, since I guess you’ve got somethin’ to say to me.”

“That’s part of the problem, Dix.”   Jon turned his head on the pillow so he could look at her.  “Space doesn't much interest me when it comes to you."

Well.  Okay, then.

Cassidy slipped within arm’s reach, propping her head up on one hand and using the other to rub easily over his chest and stomach.  The silvery pelt of fur was soft under her palm and she liked the way it tickled. 

“Honey, you probably noticed I don’t exactly mind havin’ you in my personal space.  Feel free to invade it whenever you like.”

“I wish it was that goddamn easy,” was the growling reply.  He rolled toward her and curled a wide palm over her ribs to absently stroke the underside of her left breast.  “I have to go home this weekend.”

Oh. 

That probably shouldn’t have been quite as disappointing as she found it to be, but Cassidy kept that disappointment to herself.  The only thing he got from her was an easy smile and a casual, “Okay.”

“The timing sucks for the arrangement we just made but the deal still stands.  It might just be on a little different timetable.”

“Sure, honey.  That’s fine.  I haven’t called Tully yet, so I’ll just keep workin’.  No big deal.”

“I actually called him while you were gone and took the liberty of arranging two weeks instead of one to accommodate the change of plans.  I also went to the ATM.  Vacation pay for the first week is in the living room and I’ll bring the rest when I come back on Monday.”

Oh. 

She seemed to be saying that to herself a lot in the last few minutes, but there wasn’t much else she found appropriate.  There was also a lot of steamrolling going on here lately, and she seemed to be the one getting continually flattened.  Not that Jon had done anything wrong.  He was perfectly within his rights to assume she’d agree to a second week as easily as she had the first, and she likely would have if he had asked instead of assuming.  It would be stupid not to agree.  She just needed a moment to acclimate herself to what this meant. 

“Dixie?”

“So what is it you expect me to do while you’re gone?  Since you just said I’m not workin’.”  That was the first and foremost question on her mind, because it seemed a bit odd that he’d just want her to sit around on her fanny.

“I’ll answer that, but give me a minute to lay some groundwork for you.”

“Alright.”

His hand drifted from her ribs and Jon trailed the backs of his fingers down one of her cheeks.  “You have an exceptional voice and it blends with mine a way that few others have.  Obie wants to help you make the most of that talent and, by extension, so does Dave.  My purposes are a little wider reaching, but I’m a part of that group, too.”

“You’re interested in how I can benefit your band, not just me.”  That should imply selfishness on his part, but it offered a weird relief that this wasn’t just all about her.

“Not to be an asshole, but yeah.  I’m interested in how you might benefit me.  That’s not to say I wouldn’t help you pursue a solo career, but I want to see what you and I could do together with some focus and concentration.  That’s going to require more studio time.”

Holy Hannah.  This isn’t a game anymore.  It is something very tangible and these men are puttin’ it within your reach.

She couldn’t.  Not yet.  She didn’t have the luxury.

“I… don’t know about this.”

“Nobody expects you to know about it.  We expect you to do it and trust us.”

This wasn’t the Jon that David had spoken of – the one she first met.  This Jon was filled with plans and determination and those plans included her.    What on God’s green earth was she going to do?

“As part of that,” he continued, evidently unaware of her inner turmoil.  “I want you to come with me this weekend.  I have my own recording studio on the property and you’d be welcome to stay in the guest house or – if you’d rather – at one of the local bed and breakfast places.  Obie will come over, we’ll work and see what we come up with.”

“What about your wife?”

“She’ll be out of town, which is why my plans have changed in the first place.  I’m going to be with my boys, but they’re old enough that they don’t need constant supervision.  And, for the record, it wouldn’t matter if she were home.  I’ve used the guest house and studio for these kinds of things in the past.  It’s perfectly normal.”

Maybe normal to him, but it sure as heck wasn’t to her.  His wife was currently a nameless, faceless entity and that’s the only thing that allowed Cassidy to spread her legs without suffering horrific remorse.  She could not meet the woman if he expected their physical relationship to continue.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

She tipped her head to one side, wondering if he truly had gone crazy.  “Did you really just ask me that?  Inviting your… plaything of the week into your wife’s domain is classless and tacky, honey.  Not to mention it makes me feel eighteen kinds of yucky inside.  No.”

His features went from mildly tense to stony.  He’d never looked at her that way and Cassidy didn’t much care for it. 

“I know you have no reason to believe this, but you’re more than a plaything to me.   I don’t have a one-word definition for what that is right now, but it’s significantly more than a plaything, so don’t refer to yourself that way again.”

“Lover, mistress, fling.  The word doesn’t matter, just the fact that I’m sharing your bed and my body.  I’m not doing that in your wife’s home.”

He sighed, clearly becoming exasperated, but that was just too darn bad.  Cassidy was all about him being happy and normal.  Truly she was, and whatever she could do to facilitate that, she would.  Except this. 

“You wouldn’t be doing anything that couldn’t be done in front of my kids.  This is a strictly aboveboard deal that I would offer to any of Obie’s protégés who makes my voice not sound so tired and worn out.  Studio time and accommodations.  You have my word that I won’t come looking for more in the middle of the night.”

That made her feel better about Jon as a person, anyway.  She still wasn’t going, but at least he’d provided confirmation that he wasn’t a sleazeball. 

“I appreciate you explainin’ that, but I’m still gonna have to decline.”

“Christ,” he muttered, swinging his feet to the floor.  “Because shit isn’t complicated enough.”

“Yes it is already complicated enough.”  Cassidy was also on her feet, following him to the living room for clothes.  “Which is why, instead of bein’ mad at me, you should be thankful I’m not a shameless whore who would do anything to make a name for herself.  Including parade herself around in front of your family.”

He zipped up his jeans, leaving the button unfastened, and glared at her.  “If you were a shameless whore, you never would’ve been invited.”

Oh.  Well, hellfire and damnation if a logical man couldn’t take the wind out of your sails.

“Okay, so let’s back up just a little bit.”  Still buck naked, she sidled over to wrap her arms around him and peer up into his taut face.  “I’m pretty sure you wanted this thing between us to be gratifyin’ and easy when you asked me here, and that’s what it’s been up ‘til now.  We make each other feel good but this doesn’t feel good, so I’d like to try and fix it.”

He didn’t speak up to consent or object, but perused her face with serious eyes.  So he wasn’t thrilled with her, clearly, but at least he wasn’t breaking away from her embrace. 

“I’m not tryin’ to be difficult, Jon, and I appreciate all the trouble y’all are goin’ to in order to help me.  I really, really do.  But… I’m not comfortable goin’ into the home of a woman whose husband I’m sleepin’ with.  Even if I was-“  She spoke louder and over top of him when he tried to interrupt.  “I can’t fly anyway.  So it’s a moot point.”

His jaw was set in granite, but the lines around his mouth weren’t quite so tight now. 

“Why?”

“Because,” she sighed and crossed her fingers behind his back while preparing to give him a fib similar to the one she’d told to the state trooper, and hoped that it was at least marginally correct.  “I don’t have a photo ID.  My driver’s license got lost durin’ the move and I’d have to go back out of state to get that replaced before I can request one from Tennessee. It’s a red tape nightmare and they aren’t gonna let me on a plane without it.”

“Well, fuck.”  That explanation took the starch from his shoulders, but he still bore obvious signs of frustration as he eased out of her grasp to collapse on the sofa with a huff.  “All I want to do is write some songs.  Why is the goddamn universe conspiring against me?”

“I’m sorry.”  It didn’t matter that it wasn’t what he’d like her to be sorry about.  She was still sorry – sorry that he was going through some trials and apparently had been for some time.

“Don’t worry about it.”  Hard fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose.  “I was coming back, anyway, so it’s not like it’s an extra trip.  I just didn’t want to bring Obie with me.”

She didn’t know what else to do but apologize again, and he extended a hand for her to take, pulling her toward him.  When she was close enough, he guided her to straddle his lap and looped both arms around her waist.  Cassidy bowed her head to press a soft kiss to his forehead, loathing that she was bringing the gray haze to him instead of sweeping it away. 

“What can I do for you, honey?”

“Just be naked with me as often as possible.”  His expanded palms skimmed up to her shoulder blades, where he exerted pressure until she lay against his chest with her head cushioned on his shoulder.  “I’m gonna have to spend the evening with Dave or field a lot of nosiness I don’t feel like fielding.”

“Alright.  I’ll use that time to get things from the cabin.  When will you leave for the weekend?”

“Friday morning.  Dave is leaving tomorrow, so that gives us tomorrow to pretend this clusterfuck isn’t happening.  With any luck at all, maybe I’ll finish a song.”

She had planned to accomplish some errands tomorrow, but they’d waited this long already.  One more day wasn’t going to be the difference between life and death, so she’d simply do them after he left on Friday. 

“Do you want to stay here while I’m gone, or in your own place?”

“I…”  It would be nice to already be downtown, close to the places she would be visiting on Friday, but did that make her a kept woman?  No.  Her own paid apartment would make her kept, not two days in a hotel room.  She still wasn’t comfortable making that call and spending Jon’s money, though.  “Do you have a preference?”

“If this one fucking thing went exactly the way I wanted,” he sighed.  “I’d just as soon you be here.”

She chuckled lightly. He was such a pitiful thing right now.  “Then this one freakin’ thing went exactly the way you wanted.  I’ll stay here, and thank you for the option.”

Jon drew back as far as the cushions would allow him, examining her inquisitively.  “You don’t say ‘fuck’, do you?”

“It’s not that I haven’t,” Cassidy confided with a smirk.  “MeMaw just always said a proper lady wasn’t supposed to swear.  Considerin’ I’m not a proper lady and do swear from time to time, I try and avoid the big ones.  I like to think she’d appreciate the effort.”

He smoothed back the hair that had escaped from her ponytail and quietly mused, “Hearing you blurt out ‘fuck’ in the middle of sex has just become my new mission in life.  And when you do – when, not if – I will gloat.  A lot.”