TWENTY-SEVEN

“Next fucking time we’re getting a villa at the bottom of the mountain.”  Jon groaned and flopped down on the chaise.  He let his arms fall limply over the sides of the chair as he sighed dramatically.

Cate giggled and rolled her eyes as she cracked the seal on her water bottle.  “Yeah, sure.  You love this place because it’s on top of the mountain.  The view is gorgeous.  And nobody bothers you here.”  She turned her gaze toward the stunning vista that spread before them, the deep aquamarine ocean shimmering in the morning sun.

“I don’t love it when you make me run up it.” Jon grumbled.  He groaned again as he stretched for his own water bottle, which had slipped from his hand and bounced on the concrete deck.

“I didn’t make you run up it.  I merely offered my opinion that I could jog up to the house faster than you could.”  Cate smirked and turned her head back to regard her sweaty, whiny husband.

Jon snorted. “ ‘Race Ya’ isn’t a statement of opinion.  It’s a fucking challenge.” 

“You could have said no.”

“And let you win?  No fucking way.  I ain’t no pussy.”  Jon pushed himself up on his elbow and took a long drink from his water bottle.

“Well, I almost beat you.”

“Almost.  You wouldn’t have even been close if it wasn’t for my bum knee.”

Cate chortled softly as she toed off her running shoes.  “Oh puh-lease.  You still using that old excuse?”  She lowered herself onto the end of Jon’s chair before stripping off her socks.  “Your knee has been fine since last summer.”  Cate swiped a forearm across her sweaty brow before taking another gulp from her water bottle.

Jon grinned and slid his leg over the chaise, bumping Cate’s buttock playfully with his shin.  “So, what do I get for winning the race?” he taunted smugly.

“I won’t bust your other kneecap.”  Cate swatted playfully at Jon’s leg.  “Unless you keep gloating.”

“But I won.  I get some kinda prize.”  Jon smirked dirtily.  “To the victor goes the blowjob, right?”

Cate tossed her head back as she laughed.  “Nice try.  And NO.  Not right now, anyway.”  She grunted softly as she pushed herself up from the chaise, her quadriceps already tightening from inactivity.  “I’m gonna get in the shower.  Be back in a few.”

“Maybe I’ll join you.  Soap up your back for you.  Or your front.”

“I think there might be room in there for two.”  Cate chuckled softly at her understatement.  There was probably room for ten people in the enormous shower in the villa’s master suite.

“Alright.  Go warm it up for me.  I’ll be there in a minute.  As soon as I can drag these creaky ol’ bones up off-a this chair.”

Cate chuckled softly to herself as she wandered under the lanai’s roof, into the house.  As she passed by the small breakfast table, she noticed the message light on Jon’s iPhone winking on and off.  She paused. 

“Hey Baby?” Cate called back over her shoulder as she continued into the spacious, open kitchen.  “You’ve got a message.”  She set her water bottle on the counter before opening the refrigerator and taking out a small cup of yogurt.

“I’ll get it in a minute.”  Jon sighed wearily, then eased himself upright.  He took a swig of water from his bottle before reaching down to slip off his running shoes and socks.  Letting them fall to the deck beside Cate’s, Jon stood and strolled around the chaise and over to the table. 

“Thought you were heading for the shower?” Jon gave Cate a quizzical grin as he watched her pop a spoonful of pink yogurt into her mouth.

“I’m hungry.  Decided to eat something first.”  Cate dipped her spoon into the plastic container again.

“Good idea.  You’re gonna need your strength.”  Jon winked at Cate and reached for his phone. 

“Probably one of the kids saying good morning,” he postulated, referring to the blinking green light.  “Or all of them.” 

Jon smiled gently as he swiped at the screen, expecting to see the usual goofy greeting from Jake and Romeo.  They loved to send him a joke every day he was away from them.  He loved to know he was in their thoughts early every morning, even though he was rarely there to wake them.

His grin broadened when he saw the expected e-mail among the dozen or so new communications highlighted on the little screen.  Jon tapped to open the message, then read the riddle aloud.

“What illness did everyone on the Starship Enterprise catch?”

Cate gave Jon a quizzical look.  “God, I have no idea.”

Jon chortled as he read the answer.  “Chicken Spocks!”  Cate’s giggle joined his, in appreciation of the morning dose of humor from “The Chuckleheads,” as Jon affectionately called his two youngest sons.

“That’s pretty funny,” Cate observed.  “Do they even know who Spock is?”

Jon shrugged.  “Probably not.  Well, Jakey might.  But it ain’t Star Wars, so who knows.”

“And it’s not Super Mario or animals, so Romey probably has no clue.”  Cate’s smile gentled at the mention of the littlest Bongiovi’s name.  Of all Jon’s children, she shared the closest bond with Romeo.

“Nah, I’m sure he just thought it sounded funny.  Well, and I guess a chicken is an animal.”

“Actually, it’s a bird, Jon.”  Cate corrected him. 

“Ha ha ha.  Smartass.”  Jon took a swipe at Cate’s backside, landing a light smack against her derriere.  He dropped his gaze again to the screen of his iPhone, doing a quick scan of his inbox.  He had received almost two dozen texts and e-mails in the hour-plus he and Cate had been out for their morning run.

“Hmm.  Dorothea.”  Jon’s mutter carried a note of surprise.  She didn’t often communicate with him while she was on holiday with her family, unless there was something going on with the kids.  He quickly tapped the screen to allay his mild concern.

Jon’s murmur of Dorothea’s name made Cate freeze.  She watched as his expression sobered, then turned to a frown as he read the message from his ex-wife.

“Baby?  What is it?  Are the kids okay?”  Cate felt her stomach tighten with anxiety at the thought of something happening to her stepchildren.  She set the yogurt container and spoon on the counter.

“Yeah, they’re fine.  Everybody’s fine.”  Jon continued to frown as he slid his thumb along the edge of his iPhone’s screen, obviously reading something.  “She would have called if it was something serious.”

“Oh.  Then…?” Cate left her question unfinished as she watched Jon’s brow furrow and his frown deepen.  “Jon, what is it?” she repeated apprehensively.  She moved around the counter to face him.

“Sonofabitch.”  Jon rumbled.  He sighed heavily and set his water bottle on the table before dragging a hand through his sweaty, messy hair.  “Fucking tabloid rags.”

A wave of dread squeezed Cate’s heart.  “What…?”  Her gaze dropped to the device in Jon’s hand as he turned the phone so she could see the image on its screen. 

Cate’s eyes widened as she recognized the woman in the photo, her long auburn hair cascading down her back and her sunkissed skin bared by a halter and low-slung sarong skirt.  She stood on a sandy beach next to a chair, smiling as a handsome, bare-torsoed man pressed his face to her belly.

It was her and Jon, just hours ago, enjoying their romantic evening on the beach.

“Jon… How?  Where did they get that?  I didn’t see any paparazzi last night, did you?”

“There are more.”  Jon tipped his phone toward Cate, inviting her to look.  She took the device from his hand and slid her finger over the screen.  Cate’s frown deepened as she scanned the dozen photos that showed her and Jon in various poses:  dancing, embracing, and sharing a kiss.

“Why did Dorothea send you this link?” she mused, half to herself.  While she wasn’t thrilled to see photographs of her and Jon’s private evening posted on the Internet, it was hardly the first time pictures like this had shown up.

“Linda saw it first.  Look at the headline.”  Jon’s voice was flat, his displeasure obvious.

Cate gave Jon an apprehensive glace as she swiped the touch-screen, sending the images sliding back to the header.  Her eyes widened at the banner and teaser topping the post.

JON BON BABY?

Jon Bon Jovi and wife Cate enjoy a private celebration on St. Barth,

where he can’t keep his hands – or lips – off her belly.

“Oh FUCK!”  Cate swore vehemently.  “Those… those.. PRICKS!”

Her venom elicited a tight-lipped smile from Jon, though he was as displeased as she with the speculative headline.  He had expected Cate to be shocked, but not so vocal.

“Well, at least you look good.”  He chuckled ruefully.  “They don’t always post the most flattering shots.”

“Jon! Who gives a fuck how I look?  The headline says ‘Jon Bon BABY’!”  Cate's voice now carried a note of panic.  “My God… now the world’s gonna think…”  She trailed off as again her gaze dropped to her hand.  She slashed at the little screen, scrolling rapidly through the photos.  Cate winced involuntarily at the shot of Jon happily nuzzling her middle.

“That’s why Dorothea e-mailed me.” Jon answered grimly.  “A heads-up.  This is more than happy vacation photos.”

“Shit,” Cate growled.  She thrusted her hand out toward Jon, no longer wanting to see the troubling article.  “What do we do now?”

Jon shrugged as he took back his phone from Cate’s grasp.  “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?”

“Cate, there’s nothing we can do.  The headline’s already out there.  We deny it, acknowledge it in any way, it becomes credible.  We ignore it, it goes away sooner rather than later.”

“But Jon!  They’re speculating that I’m pregnant!”  Cate felt her eyes mist with tears of frustration as her stomach tightened with fear.  “What if they find out about the doctors, the treatment…?”  She trailed off as a lump formed in her throat. 

Jon smiled, this time genuinely.  While he shared Cate’s worry about their medical privacy, he saw another angle.

“Well… maybe they’re right for once.”

His comment caught Cate off-guard.  Despite her constant attention to everything related to their fertility treatment and reproductive health, she hadn’t allowed herself to even consider that she could be with child at this very moment.

“Jon…” Her voice was softer, tentative.  “But…”

“I know.”  Jon read her mind.  “If you are, we don’t want to share it with the world.  Hell, we don’t want to share it with most of our friends or family.  At least not until it becomes obvious.”  He stepped closer to Cate, resting a gentle hand on her arm.  “So, like I said… we ignore it.  Pretend we know nothing about it.  Those pictures, that fucking headline… it doesn’t exist.”

Cate frowned, trying to detect the flaw in Jon’s logic.  “But Dorothea… she wouldn’t have sent that e-mail if she didn’t think… would she?”

Jon shrugged.  “Maybe, maybe not.  God knows she’s gone through her share of tabloid bullshit over the years.  She has pretty good radar.”  His palm rubbed over Cate’s arm in a reassuring caress.  “But then again… this is kinda personal for her, too.”

Cate’s lips parted in a soft sigh as she considered Jon’s comment.  Though they had informed Dorothea and Jon’s children of their familial intentions, Cate had seen the wistful strain in Dorothea’s smile.  She could imagine how it must feel to watch the man you loved for half your life get excited about starting a family with another woman.  And then to see the romantic pictures and Baby-Makes-Three speculation all over the gossip columns…

It must hurt.

Cate nodded slowly in agreement with her thoughts.  Maybe Jon was right:  Dorothea’s e-mail was less a warning than a personal reaction.  She took a deep breath. 

“So… We ignore it.”  She didn’t sound fully convinced.

“Cate, your picture has been in the rags before.”

“I know, but not like this.”  Cate sighed.  “This is different.  It’s not like photos of us walking down the street or dressed up for some event.  These are… personal.”

Jon echoed her sigh.  “I know, Baby.  But it’s done.”

Cate’s frown deepened as she gave Jon a long look.  It was evident from his expression that he wasn’t fully convinced, either.  But what other option did they have?

Suddenly needing to feel as well as hear his reassurance, Cate stepped forward and slipped her arms around Jon’s waist.  He welcomed her contact, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.

“Sometimes I really fucking hate your famousness,” Cate groused wearily.  She rested her cheek against the damp cotton covering Jon’s sweaty chest.  “We can’t even go away for a quiet holiday.”

Jon chuckled softly and dropped a kiss against the crown of her head.  “Me too, Baby.  But this shit comes with the territory.”  He gave her another comforting squeeze.  “We just can’t let it bother us.  People are gonna say and think what they want.”

“I know.”

Jon dropped a hand to pat Cate’s derriere.  “Well, I’m not gonna let this shit ruin my day.  Let’s go get cleaned up, grab a bite to eat, then go out and do some sightseeing or shopping or something.  I wanna play with my new lens.  Maybe I’ll take some shots of your belly.”

His gentle tease made Cate smile.  She raised her head to give him a mildly amused look. 

“That’s an awful big lens for close-ups of my tummy.”

“Well, I’ll need it when it’s a big tummy.”  Jon grinned and planted a kiss on the end of Cate’s nose. 

“Great. Thanks.”  Cate rolled her eyes with her sarcastic reply.

“Well, if you’ve got three or four in there…”

Cate slipped an arm from Jon’s waist and gently smacked his chest.  “Hey!  Don’t even joke about that!”

Jon gave Cate another little squeeze before releasing her from his arms.  “Alright, alright…”  He chortled softly.  “But c’mon.  We’ve wasted enough time on this bullshit.”  He waved his iPhone, indicating the unwelcome internet publicity.  “Go run that shower, and we’ll get back to enjoying ourselves.  We’re on vacation, remember?”

His grin made Cate’s heart squeeze.  Of course Jon was right.  They couldn’t let a stupid internet rumor and some photos ruin their holiday.  After all, if it weren’t for Dorothea’s alert they probably wouldn’t even be aware of them.

“Ten-four,” Cate replied, giving Jon her own little grin.  “Meet ya there in a minute?”

“Bet your sweet ass, Baby.”

With a soft chuckle and a quick kiss for her sweaty husband, Cate headed for the master bathroom.

*****

“YES!”  Jon’s face split into a triumphant grin as he spied the empty space at the end of the narrow street.  He impatiently pressed the center of the steering wheel, triggering an abrupt beep to urge the vehicle in front of him to move.

“Cate, wrap it up.  Found a spot.”  Jon glanced sideways at his wife, who was slouched in the passenger seat, her phone to her ear.  He saw her distracted nod before he turned his eyes forward again.

Again Jon punched the horn, giving the motorist blocking their path another, more urgent prod.  “Come on, you slow-ass…” Jon’s impatient growl was cut short when the car rolled forward and drifted to the side of the street, yielding to his demand.

“Ha!” Jon snorted as he turned the Jeep’s wheel to guide it through the narrow gap created by the other car’s movement.  His grin returned as he accelerated up the street, then stopped in front of the empty parking spot.  Jon draped his arm across the back of Cate’s seat as he half-turned to look over his shoulder.  He expertly guided the small vehicle into the space, in a perfect parallel park.

Turning the key to kill the engine, Jon looked again at Cate.  She was still on her call, her lips pursed lightly as she listened to the voice in her ear.

“Baby, c’mon.”  Jon’s hand closed over her tanned knee, giving it a gentle shake.  “Tell Gus you gotta go.”

Cate turned her head toward Jon, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement.  He couldn’t see her blue eyes behind her aviator shades, but he could tell from her expression that she was giving him a small glare of annoyance.

Sighing impatiently, Jon pulled his hand away and slumped back against his seat.  There was no point in nudging his wife again; it would just piss her off and likely cause her to prolong her call.  Jon tipped his head back against the headrest, automatically turning his gaze toward the rear-view mirror.

He watched idly as well-dressed men and women strolled along the sidewalk, enjoying the beautiful weather and window-shopping the upscale boutiques that lined the streets in this section of Gustavia.  It was evident from their appearance and the shopping bags they carried that few of the people on the street were locals; they were moneyed tourists enjoying an island holiday. 

Just like he was attempting to do with his wife.  If she ever stopped working.

Jon rolled his head against the headrest, turning his face toward her.  He couldn’t help giving Cate another nudge.  He didn’t want to sit here all day; he wanted to join the tourist promenade.

“Cate, for Christ’s sake…”

This time he was sure she gave him her version of the stink-eye.  Her lip curled as she turned her face toward him, making it clear she had heard him the first time.

“Fuck.”  Jon mumbled, rolling his head again until he faced away from Cate.  This time his gaze settled on the mirror mounted on the Jeep’s driver’s side.  He sighed heavily, again regarding the pedestrians on the walk behind them.

The glint of the sun off a small glass disc flashed in the mirror, capturing his attention.  Jon’s lips pursed thoughtfully as he watched a small group of people gather at the far end of the block, several of them carrying large, bulky items.  Recognizing what the pedestrians were carrying, Jon raised his head.  His frown deepened as he turned in his seat, craning his neck to look down the street.

“Oh, Goddamnit.” 

Jon’s quiet growl caught Cate’s attention.  Thinking it was for her, she held up a finger in a “one more minute” sign before turning her face away from Jon while she spoke quietly into her phone.

 Ignoring her gesture, Jon stared down the street, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses.  At the far end of the block a long black telephoto lens aimed back at him, its owner capturing his scowl.  Jon growled again with displeasure.   He wasn’t particularly bothered by the paparazzo taking his photograph just now; it was the small crowd forming around the man that concerned him.

Jon turned around when he saw three more cameras raise and point in his direction.  He slumped lower in his seat, muttering a curse.  He knew what was about to happen, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. 

“Yep.  Definitely.  Call the duty attorney and let him know, and check in with me later.  And tell Silvio I say hello.”  Cate turned her head back to look at Jon as she completed her call.  Her brow furrowed as she saw Jon’s clenched jaw.  “Yeah.  Good job, Gus.  Keep me posted.”

Her work done, Cate lowered her phone and tapped the screen.  She sighed heavily, thinking Jon’s stormy expression was meant for her.

“Jesus, Jon.  I can’t just hang up because you found a parking spot.”

Jon shook his head slightly.  “It’s fine,” he answered curtly, dismissing her half-apology.  “Listen, Baby… You’re not gonna like this, but…”  He paused, glancing again into the side mirror.  He swore again as he saw the small swarm of photographers was moving toward them.

“What?” Cate’s voice betrayed her apprehension as she read Jon’s reaction.

Jon turned his head to look at Cate.  “Paps spotted us.  They’re behind us, taking pictures.”  He sighed.  “They probably spotted me when we were on the street, stuck behind that fuckwad back there.”  Jon threw up a hand, waving it in indication of their earlier traffic delay.

“Oh, shit!”  Cate turned her head a bit more, not wanting to be obvious but wanting to see the photographers for herself.  She groaned when she spied the group.  “Jesus Christ… this place is crawling with celebrities.  Why can’t they go bother somebody else?”

Jon knew the answer to her question, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.  Cate was already rattled enough about their morning discovery of the tabloid headline.  He was sure the atypical behavior of the paparazzi behind them was in response to that speculative story. 

Normally Jon enjoyed a respectful relationship with the celebrity-stalkers on St. Barth; he allowed them to take their pictures and they gave him his space.  Now he and Cate were the biggest celebrities on the island, from the gossip column perspective.  There was little chance they were going to be able to distance themselves from the paparazzi.

It was clearly time for them to practice his sage advice from earlier.

“Baby, remember what I said this morning.  Just ignore them.”  Jon reached for Cate’s hand, giving it a squeeze to ensure he had her attention.  “Look, I don’t know what they’re gonna do, but whatever it is, just blow them off, okay?”

Cate’s lips parted in a soft gasp of surprise as her eyes widened behind her shades.  “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Cate.  You’ve been around me long enough to know these guys don’t keep their mouths shut.  Just don’t give ‘em a response, okay?  Just keep smiling and moving.”  He gave Cate an ironic, tight-lipped smile.  “Baby, you know how to read people.  Don’t give ‘em anything to read from your reaction.”

Cate slumped back against her seat, dropping her head against the headrest and looking skyward.  “Oh, Jesus.”  She sighed with frustration.  “Can’t we just go?”

Jon shook his head.  “Probably not a good idea.  Then it becomes ‘Jon Bon Jovi and his wife are suddenly camera-shy, trying to hide her pregnancy’.”  He snorted bitterly.  “Nope, it’s best just to face ‘em and pretend we know nothing.  Besides, we can’t let these fuckers chase us off.  If we wanna go shopping, we go shopping.”

Cate sighed again, then was silent for a moment.  “Well… okay.”  She turned her face back toward Jon’s.  “At least we’re wearing sunglasses so they can’t see our eyes.”  She gave him a weak smile.

Jon chuckled softly and gave Cate’s hand another squeeze.  “That’s my Girl.”

“Well, let’s not just sit here.”  Cate reached for her purse.  “C’mon.”

Jon nodded and released her hand, then climbed out of his seat.  Rounding the front of the vehicle, Jon chivalrously helped Cate from the Jeep before lacing his fingers between hers.  He gave her an encouraging little smile before together they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Here we go,” Jon murmured softly.  Though they were still half a block away, he could hear the rapid clicking of the camera’s shutters. 

He looked directly at the paparazzi, his blue eyes narrowing behind the barrier of his sunglasses.  He saw that the group included four men with cameras, another man holding a bag and a notebook, and two women.  Jon tried not to frown as he noted the unusual cluster; unlike in Hollywood or New York, the paps in St. Barth usually worked solo or in pairs.

“Where do you want to go?” Cate asked, obviously trying to ignore the clutch of onlookers who were documenting their every move. 

“I dunno.  I kinda want to look for a new watch, though.”

Cate chuckled softly. “Like you need another one.  But okay.  There are lots of jewelers on this street.”  She tightened her clasp on Jon’s hand as they strolled closer to the photographers.

“You wanna look for any clothes?  Dresses or stuff...?”  Jon barely finished the thought before the first shout interrupted his query.

“Congratulations, Jon!  This will be your fifth, right?”

Though his immediate reaction was a surge of anger, Jon’s expression didn’t change.  He gave no hint of acknowledgement to the bait.

“Jon, you’re fifty! Way to go, Man!”

Cate swallowed a soft chuckle at the photographer’s second attempt.  She felt Jon’s fingers tighten around hers in a reassuring squeeze.

“How about we go in there?”  Jon pointed at an open shop door, several yards from where the paparazzi had now stopped and were gathered in an eager pack.  He knew they wouldn’t follow him and Cate into the boutique, which was one of his favorites.

“Sounds good,” Cate agreed readily.  Her voice was level and controlled, barely covering her discomfort with the situation.

“Smile, Baby,” Jon murmured softly, out of the side of his mouth.  “You’re gonna be in the papers.  May as well look happy.”

At Jon’s bidding, Cate turned on a fake half-smile.  Again she was grateful her dark glasses hid her eyes, which she was sure were sparking with irritation.

“Cate!  How are you feeling?”

Cate turned her head toward the question.  Though she knew from experience the paparazzi would talk directly to her, her response was automatic.

“Fine.”

“No morning sickness, then?”

Jon’s smile faded at the baiting inquiry.   He gave Cate’s hand a little tug, urging her to move more quickly.  She followed, slowing only as Jon paused beside the boutique’s door for her to enter ahead of him.  As she moved past, his hand settled on the small of her back.

“Cate!  You’re forty-three.  Was it hard for you to conceive?”

The voice was female, with a heavy British accent.  Jon felt Cate’s body stiffen under his hand as she paused, then continued across the threshold of the jeweler’s shop.  Unable to help himself, Jon shot a dirty glare back over his shoulder before following her into the boutique.

Ignoring the saleswoman’s greeting, Jon steered Cate to the back of the store, as far away from the door as possible.  They stopped in front of a case of elaborate necklaces, keeping their backs to the street.   Cate stood silent, staring down at the case but not seeing the stunning jewels inside.

“Baby… you okay?”  Jon could feel Cate trembling lightly under his hand.  He could tell the intrusive question had stung her.  He badly wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her, but he knew he couldn’t.  The cameras were still trained on them, through the shop’s plate glass windows.

Cate nodded slowly.  “I’m fine.”

“You sure?  You don’t sound…”

Cate turned her head to look at Jon, silencing his question.  She stared at him for a moment before giving him a tight smile.  “Okay, I’m not fine.  I’m pissed.  That bitch has some nerve.”

Jon let out a little chuckle, relieved at her reaction.  He would much rather see Cate angry at than hurt by the cruel query.  After all they had been through, there were a few chinks in her emotional armor.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  Sliding his arm from Cate’s back to curve around her side, Jon stepped closer.  He gave her an encouraging smile.  “Sorry.”

“Why?  It’s not your fault.”  Cate reached up to slide her sunglasses from her face, revealing her eyes.  Jon saw them swirling sapphire and indigo, roiling like a rough sea.

“I know.  But if I were Joe Schmoe you wouldn’t have to deal with that shit.”

“If you were Joe Schmoe we wouldn’t be here.”  Cate countered, her smile relaxing a bit as she dropped her gaze again to the beautiful jewelry under the glass case.  “It’s okay.  Like you said, I knew what I was getting into when I married you.”

“We can leave if you want.  Just go back to the Jeep, get the fuck out of here.”

Cate sighed softly.  “No. We’re here already.  And like you said, we just have to ignore this shit.  Besides…”  She reached to tap at the enormous dial on Jon’s wrist.  “I have to buy you a new watch, remember?  You can’t wear this old thing forever.”

Jon chuckled at her sarcastic tease about the Rolex he had bought in Europe last summer.  He leaned forward, his lips curving into a gentle smile.  “Lemme give those assholes something to sell.”

As Jon’s lips stroked gently over hers, Cate smiled.  She turned her body more fully toward Jon’s, reaching up to rest a hand on his bicep.  When they parted she gazed at him for a long moment before speaking.

“Okay, now let that nice lady sell you something.  We’ve completely ignored her.”  Cate’s chastisement was soft as she nodded slightly in the direction of the discrete saleswoman.

“Yes, Ma’am.”  Jon grinned and stole another kiss before stepping away and turning to raise a hand toward the woman.  “Miss?”

For the next half hour Jon and Cate remained in the jewelry shop, perusing the beautiful wares.  Jon lingered over his choice of a new watch, hoping the celebrity stalkers outside would tire of waiting for him and Cate to emerge.  They had no such luck, and were again confronted with a barrage of questions when they emerged from the shop.

Together Cate and Jon strolled the avenue, entering and exiting the tony boutiques while the paparazzi followed their every move.  Eventually the group got the hint that neither Jon nor Cate were going to be drawn into conversation, so their questions abated.  But the cameras never stopped clicking.

By the time they wandered into a small café an hour later, Cate’s cheeks hurt from the forced smile she kept plastered to her face.  She and Jon declined a table on the patio, forsaking the beautiful weather in favor of the relative privacy of a small booth at the back of the restaurant. 

Once their order of iced tea and lemon teacakes arrived, Jon and Cate finally let their guard down.  Both breathed a sigh of semi-relief that they were temporarily out of the stalkers’ range.  They ate in silence for a few minutes before Cate spoke.

“Maybe we should just go home, Jon.”

Jon arched a brow, though her quiet statement didn’t completely surprise him.  He chewed and swallowed his mouthful of tart before answering.

“Back to Jersey, you mean?”

“Yes.”  Cate took a sip of her iced tea. 

Jon set his fork on his plate and reached for Cate’s hand.  His fingers curved over hers on the tabletop and he squeezed gently.  “You sure?  I mean… I’ll do whatever you want, but you said yesterday you wanted to stay through New Year’s.”

“That was before all this happened.”  Cate tipped her head toward the café’s entrance, where she knew the photographers were probably still laying in wait for them.

Jon smiled gently.  “I know.  But Baby, don’t let those assholes ruin the rest of your vacation.”

“I don’t want to spend the rest of the week hiding, or looking over my shoulder.”  Cate looked down at Jon’s hand over hers.  His wedding band shone in the soft natural light inside the café.

“We could just stay at the villa, or go to the private beach.  Just relax and lay around in the sun.”

Cate shook her head slightly.  “Yeah, but you know they’ll find out where we’re staying, if they don’t already know.  And it doesn’t matter.  This is a small island and they have big-ass telephoto lenses.”

“But we won’t have to hear them, listen to their fucking asshole questions.”

Cate chuckled softly at Jon’s coarse statement.  “No,” she agreed as she raised her gaze to meet his.  “But we’ll know they’re there.  Besides…”  She turned her hand under Jon’s, so their palms touched.  “How am I supposed to go buy a fucking pregnancy test at the pharmacy now?”  She gave him a wry half-smile.

Jon laughed softly, his heart warming at the note of gentle irony in her voice.  “Good point.”

“And anyway… I think I’d rather wait until we’re home for that.”  Cate sighed.  “This holiday has been nice, but… but I just don’t want to stay here anymore.”

Jon nodded, rubbing his hand against Cate’s.  “Okay, then.  Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.  If we didn’t have dinner with Ron and Anna tonight I’d say let’s go pack up right now.”

“We can go.  They’ll understand.”

Cate shook her head.  “No, Jon.  It’s too late to cancel now.  Besides, they’re good friends to you, and I know you enjoy spending time with them.”  She smiled again.  “We’ll go.  It will be a lovely evening.  We can leave tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

They shared another moment of quiet while each nibbled at their pastries.  Jon sighed softly, then gave Cate another wry smile.

“Well, this day has kinda gone to shit, huh?”

Cate giggled and nodded.  “Yeah, but it started out good, and it will have a nice ending.  If we can just forget the middle part, I’ll be okay with it.”

“In a couple days this will all blow over, Baby.  You’ll see.”  Jon chuckled.  “I’ll call Richie and tell him to take Denise out somewhere and get the rags all riled up over whether they’re back together again or not.  That’ll take the pressure off.”

Cate laughed softly, shaking her head at Jon’s suggestion.  “And he’d do that for you.”

“Yup.  ‘Cause that’s the kind of friend he is.  My Wingman.”  Jon grinned and took another slurp from his iced tea glass.  “In a few days nobody will remember anything about this bullshit headline.  Hell, the only people who believe these rags are old ladies and wackos, right?”

“I guess so.”  Cate grinned.  She gave Jon’s hand a little squeeze before tugging it out from under his and picking up her napkin.  As she raised the linen square to dab at her lips, she heard a sharp buzz.

Automatically Cate reached for her purse, assuming the electronic notification was for her.  Her motion was halted when Jon leaned sideways, reaching for his hip.

“It’s me,” he announced, pulling his iPhone from the pocket of his shorts.  He raised the device to the tabletop and peered down at the screen.  Jon frowned.

“Aw, SHIT.”

Cate’s brows lifted at his curse.  “Who is it?”

Jon groaned a long sigh before answering.

“It’s Mom.”