Star Gazers

CHRISTMAS STARS CHAPTER 1

CHRISTMAS STARS CHAPTER 1

The mattress shook as they bounced harder, higher. The remains of a room service meal stacked a tray across the room, and the television flickered silently. Shrieks and screams were synchronous with each movement of the bed.

Matt and Jules each held a tiny hand in each of theirs, forming a foursome as they jumped. The laughter of Meg was easily matched by that of her brother. Although Meg was the oldest, at four, Jacks, at three was almost the same height.

Matt fell to the bed, pulling them all, like a line of dominoes, along with him, and Jules lay catching her breath, as the kids crawled on top of him. They were less than two weeks from the end of a twelve week tour. The woman that helped them out, a part time aupair to the kids, normally stayed on tour with them for two and a half weeks out of four. With her gone, this time, Jules had begun taking the kids to the show some, and on show nights, they were asleep before they made it back to the room. But, there had been no show tonight, so they were trying to wear the kids out by alternate means.

“Okay guys, bedtime!” Jules rolled across, grabbing at the munchkin closest to her, Jacks, who promptly sought refuge with Matt. They played around some more, and it was another half hour before they were tucked in.

Jules returned from the adjoining smaller bedroom, to the main bedroom, after 'one last story,' to find Matt munching on chips, and sipping at a beer as he watched a basketball game.

“Way to help out.” Jules scolded. “Your version of team parenting is seriously lacking.”

But she said it all in jest. Matt was the best father, and husband, any woman could hope for. Tonight, he had read two, of the three books, they had bribed the kids with, and given Jacks a shower.

“Comere cari...” Patting the mattress beside him, he moved his brows in a convincing lift.

“Going to make it up to me?” The silk pajamas she wore, brushed smoothly against her skin, as she crawled up from the foot of the bed.

“Actually, you were blocking those foul shots...”

With an aggravated screech, she slapped at his bare chest, secretly admiring the pure masculinity sagged in it's seductive length against the headboard, the broad bare shoulders, ripped chest, long legs encased in flannel pajama bottoms, and bare feet at the hems. “Screw you.”

Quirking an unperturbed smirk, he tilted his head, touching his lips to hers, and, without taking his eyes from the game, nodded toward the night stand. “I fixed you a Coke...”

“And got me a candy bar!” Excitedly, she ripped at the wrapper of the dark chocolate that she had been craving like crazy lately. Taking a generous bite of the sweet goodness, she wondered, “How are you getting these anyway?” It was not a candy commonly found in the room snacks, or any vending machine. Yet every other day or so, one seemed to turn up.

“I have a secret stash.” Again, that sexy smile was bestowed on her, but his eyes riveted back to the basketball game when a score was made.

Chewing another bite, Jules considered. “You wrote it into the rider somehow didn't you?”

“You think I can write candy bars into the rider?”

“Dan writes condoms into the rider, so um hm, I think you can write candy bars in,” Jules teased, but she knew full well, any little whim could be written into the band rider. Her only confusion was that it was mid tour, and apparently he had made an addition.

“Maybe I need to write condoms into the rider.”

“Ha. Ha.” Jules took a drink and laid the rest of the candy aside.

These days as it so often happened, they were only a few heated kisses in, and the pitter patter of little feet sounded in addition to their heavy breaths. “I'm scared Daddy. Can I sleep with you?” The mattress moved as Meg hoisted her tiny self up, without waiting for an answer, and Jacks was right behind her. “Me too Mommy.”

Jules snuggled close to Jacks, breathing in the baby scents, and beneath the miniature party crashers, her foot intertwined with Matt's.

Meg's foot was jammed into her chest. Somehow in the middle of the night, the two children had turned at crazy angles while they slept. Pushing the tiny foot aside, Jules let her eyes fall closed again, fighting the queasy stomach this morning. When she next woke, Matt's molten eyes were staring over the sleeping children, caressing over her face, down her neck, and down. Quickly she closed her eyes once more, striving to relax and not blink, breath evenly, fake sleep.

With the kids around, they had learned to improvise, and she knew his thoughts were on the privacy of the bathroom, but she didn't feel up to it.

When his eyes fell on her face again, he saw that she had fallen back asleep, or was pretending to be. She stayed fatigued, and it was understandable, yet a disappointment sometimes, like now. Swinging out of bed, he went for a shower, and as the hot water soaked into his skin, he leaned his head onto the tile, going back to a simpler time. An eighteen year old Jules, those blue, beguiling eyes from the Cawaba pinups around his bed.

With a relaxed grin, he entered the bedroom to the kids arguing over a game, and Jules on the phone ordering up breakfast. Eighteen may have been a simpler time, but it was definitely not a happier time. Each day that passed, lately, seemed happier if that were possible.

“You leave any hot water for the rest of the hotel?” Jules teased, as she cradled the phone.

“Plenty for you.” He assured, bending to kiss the kids good morning. “If you need it.”

The last sentence drew her eyes, as he had known it would, the inference, that she needed yet hadn't wanted, and he searched them for any trace of anger, annoyance or hurt from the last show. For the most part, she never seemed to sweat the various women from his past, and the ones that ended up at shows were becoming fewer and fewer, but every once in awhile, he got the big freeze from her for a couple of days after. Especially, as he had learned during the last two times she had been--

“My stomach,” She explained, with a look of apology, and he curved a reassuring smile, pulling her into a close hug. Worried, he took notice when she settled the kids around the table with him, then moved away herself, nibbling on a piece of toast as she packed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Almost. Keep that orange, okay?” Without looking at the breakfast mess, she indicated the fruit that she would take on the plane.

They were settled into the next hotel only a few hours later, but Meg and Jacks, hyped from the plane ride, refused to settle down for a nap. Jules decided to take them swimming, and promised to call up from the pool if it was fairly empty of guests. He helped her dress the kids in their swimsuits, but his attention constantly strayed to her.

She had changed in the bathroom, but currently with a foot propped on the chair, was slathering her legs with suntan lotion. Sometime after becoming a mother, she had abandoned bikini's, but the lack of skin showing did not detract from the sex appeal. As she bent forward, the top of the suit strained open, giving him a good glimpse of two of his favorite curves, and he bit his tongue on the offer he had been about to make, of helping her with that lotion. That would end with him convincing the kids to watch tv and dragging her into the other room.

The moment he was alone in the room, he picked up the phone, and punched in three numbers. “Hey Uncle Dan!”

“Uh, huh,” Warily Dan came back, having been addressed just this way, over the phone before.

“The feeling came over me that you might want to spend some time with the sweetest niece and nephew on this tour.”

An appreciative snort came through the line, and Dan asked, “How long has it been bro?”

“At least a week...” Matt made the admission reluctantly, but out of necessity to convince Dan of the urgency of the matter.

“Damn dude. Yeah you just remember these conversations when you and Jules are after me to settle down...” Dan joked, but in the spirit of brotherhood agreed, “Sure. You bringing the munchkins, or you want me to come down and get them?”

“I'll bring em, but hey, can you call Jules? Make the offer?”

“No problem.” Dan agreed.

Settling on the chair with a guitar, and with his notebook handy on the table, he began to trail chords from one key to the next, his ear attune to any unique sound. When the family came back wrapped in towels, he set the instrument aside, and followed them into the bathroom, where Jules had a warm shower running. Still in their swimsuits, they were rinsing off, and he offered to take over the little ones while she dressed.

“Easy there.” He reprimanded Meg, who was hopping around too much, and used a dry washrag to wipe Jacks' eyes, when he began to wail from a splash. From the other room, the phone begin to ring, and knowing it was Dan, strained to listen, but the kids were being too loud.

Jules picked up the extension and stepped into her jeans as she spoke a hello. When Dan carried on about wanting to spend some time with the kids, she had to smile, turning automatically toward the bathroom, where Matt's husky voice was mingling with childish chatter.

“I guess Matt's going crazy?” Dryly she returned as she sat on the edge of the bed to towel her hair. “Heaven forbid he go a few days without being laid.”

“Ew Sis stop,” Dan sounded properly repulsed, then spoiled the illusion with, “Actually he said it had been more than a week.”

“Has it? I guess it has.” Musingly, she filed through her memory banks.

Jules smiled again when Dan protested some more, but this time it was more about the disillusionment of married life in general, if a week with no sex could potentially go by. He had been semi serious with a woman for almost a year now, and Jules and Matt had both began to lay the commitment issue on thick, their joking enticement being just the opposite, someone at your intimate beck and call twenty four seven.

“Sure, thanks.” Jules sought to wind up the call and stop burning Dan's ears. “When do you want the little monsters?”

Matt carried the tots down the hall, and she was picking up kid clutter when he returned. The door clanged behind him, and he swung her around, arcing her off the floor for a moment, and into his arms, like he had done countless times, but it never got old.

Melded together, they kissed like crazy, and he was in the process of peeling off the clothes she had just put on, when he paused. Dark eyes, hot with passion stared into her gaze, but there was a tinge of something else, and when he spoke, she realized it was concern.

“Did you eat something at the pool?”

“No, but let's eat after...” Pulling at his shirt, she emphasized her present hunger by putting her lips to his chest. Matt still wore a mass of necklaces, but they had changed some over the years. Micky's dog tag had been retired to the jewelry box back home in Dallas. His first guitar pick was also gone, leaving only a Jewelweed one. The silver guitar pendant that matched her gold remained. The oddest, but most sentimental of all, a lug nut, which he admitted was part of the yellow corvette.

“An important part?” She had teased that day, from her place, cross legged, on their bed at home, as she had watched him pull it from his keepsake box on the dresser and thread it onto one of his never ending hemp strings, cut from a twined ball.

“The engine is not going to fall out one day, if that is what you mean,” He had jested right back.

How far they had come, from those naive teens, bumping elbows and heads, in a car that was in no way designed to be a shaggin wagon, parked in their spot, overlooking the city that they would someday make a name in, each in their own way.

Her back hit the mattress, and she sucked in a heady breath. The hardness, the heaviness, was always a turn on, to the extreme. The way their skin felt pressed together. The way they felt together. Hands were everywhere, and their lips were never far behind. In the height of their heated craze, he was holding back, his every move moderate, and she knew why. His caution was touching but unnecessary, and she reminded him of this with urgent words, and a curl of her fingers into his hips, a satisfied exclamation escaping at the next unrestrained movement....

...“To think I thought you were mad at me.” Matt trailed his fingers over something smooth. Eyes closed, he was still soaking in the aftermath, every cell tingling.