A/N: Just a disclaimer that this is complete and total fiction. If you don't like this kind of imagining, there are plenty of other stories here to read!
He woke up with a start. Connie was tucked into his side, her head on his shoulder, breathing softly against his skin. It was dark and, for a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked around and realized they were at the river house. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table next to them and saw that it was 2:45. He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Not as late as he'd thought. But they couldn't stay here all night, as nice as the thought of that would be.
"Connie," he whispered. She made a little noise, but didn't move. "Connie," he said, a little louder. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, looking confused. "Baby, we've gotta go."
She sat up then, pulling the blanket with her. "Oh, God, Chip, what time is it?"
He sat up too and turned to put his feet on the floor. "Almost 3:00," he said. "Let's go. We can still check in and get a little more sleep."
They both got up and hastily got dressed. Connie raked her fingers through her hair furiously, trying to put it into some semblance of order. She looked at him and chuckled, then walked over and ran her fingers through his hair as well. "You had a very bad case of bed head, sweetie," she said, with a grin.
He smiled and kissed her. "You can follow me," he said, taking her hand. They started for the sliding doors and then she pulled back.
"Oh, wait, we need to go out the front door, so I can leave the key." He had forgotten that, turned and headed for the front of the house. They walked out and, using the light from his phone, she locked the door and put the key in the compartment. Then they walked around to their cars and she followed him to the hotel.
She was waiting at the elevator bank when he hustled down from the front desk with his key. She looked as exhausted as he felt and she leaned against him as they rode up to the fourth floor. They headed down the hall to the room and he opened the door. There was a king size bed and they both headed for it, stripping down to their underwear and crawling under the covers. He set his phone alarm for 6:30 and then turned out the light. She rolled towards him and he pulled her into his arms and they both fell asleep almost instantly.
They both groaned with dismay when the phone alarm went off. He reluctantly disengaged from her and rolled onto his side, picking up the offending phone. He squinted at the screen and groaned again as he turned it off. Then he rolled onto his back. "Damn," he muttered, feeling like he'd just closed his eyes mere seconds earlier. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her neck. "Who's in the shower first?" he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.
"Mm." She slid her hand down over the covers, landing on his morning erection. He made a noise as she rubbed him with her hand. "How about together?" she said, the sound of laughter in her voice.
He turned towards her, pressing himself against her stomach. He opened his eyes and saw that she was gazing at him, a sleepy smile on her face. "I'm gonna have to do something about this though," he said, with a smirk.
She rolled over to the opposite side of the bed and got up, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "Only if you beat me to the shower," she said, with a smile.
He sprang out of the bed and ran after her, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her up off the floor as she laughed. He carried her the rest of the way to the bathroom and turned the water on in the shower. As it heated up, they removed their underwear and then he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her close for a kiss. As he let his lips linger on hers, she pressed her hands against the small of his back and arched her back slightly as she tilted her hips against him. "Shower time, baby," he murmured.
He let her go and turned back to start the shower spray. She took a towel and wrapped it around her hair. He frowned a little when he looked at her. "Can't get my hair wet," she said. She made a little shooing motion with her hand. "Get in." He did, taking her hand to steady her as she stepped in after him.
He turned her to face the back wall, putting his hands on her waist and nudging her legs apart with his knee. "Gotta take care of you first," he whispered against her ear.
She chuckled softly. "Me, huh?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire.
"Mm hm," he said as he pushed inside her. She breathed in sharply and then shifted her hips, pressing her ass back against him as she adjusted. He kept moving inside her, letting his hand drift down over her abdomen. He pressed her against the back wall as she moaned. Then she reached down between her legs and let her fingers trail over where they were joined together. "Oh, God, baby," he muttered, her touch like electricity. He began to thrust in and out of her quickly, unable to wait for his release. He pushed one final time, shouting out as he came, feeling her tense up and then relax herself as she cried out his name.
He slumped against her back as she leaned her head against the shower wall. They both were breathing hard and he could feel his heart beating fast. She had one hand against the wall and he covered it with his own. She let her fingers thread through his as she held him tight inside her. Then she laughed softly and he could feel it all the way through his body. "Well, that was certainly a nice wakeup," she said.
He kissed her hard on the cheek, a smile on his face, and then he pulled away from her, feeling the water pelting his back. "Yes, it was," he said. He gave her a soft pat on the ass. "Now it's time for a quick shower and we need to get you out of here."
Their shower lingered a little longer than it should have, but they were happy to be together and it was hard to let her go, even if it was just for a short time. When she was dressed and ready to leave, he pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her fiercely. Then she looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. "You act like I'm going away forever," she said.
He kissed her forehead. "Feels kinda like it," he said.
She smiled up at him. "Then come over earlier and you can see me get that no makeup look in makeup." She laughed.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I may have to do that but you, young lady, need to get on over now." He hugged her close and felt her slide her arms around him. They just held each other for a moment and then he let her go, stepping back.
She held her hand up. "I'll see you soon then." She opened the door and slipped out and he was left by himself. It occurred to him as he stood looking at the door that the light went out in his life whenever she left him.
It was a long day of filming. It was also some of the most emotional work he and Connie had done together. The aftermath of Deacon telling Rayna he had cancer and believed he would die, her stubborn insistence they could work through it – together – and his equally stubborn resistance to that idea. It had culminated, of course, in the scene they'd filmed together, and later reenacted for themselves, the night before, when Rayna finally convinced Deacon to give in. Or wore him down, as he'd teased Connie.
They'd been told after lunch that they needed to refilm the scene outside the house where Deacon and Rayna had talked. It meant staying late again, because the crew would come back after filming other scenes on the schedule that day. Connie was nervous, because she had an early flight the next morning to DC for an event where she was speaking, but it couldn't be helped.
When the crew packed up to head back to the production stage, she turned and looked at him. "Are they actually leaving us here by ourselves?" she asked, with a surprised smile on her face.
He grinned. "I guess we could leave and come back, but it seems such a shame to miss out on this." He waved his arm towards the sliders and the river beyond.
She clasped her hands together against her chest. "I suppose that's true." She gave him a teasing look. "Whatever will we do to pass the time?" Then she laughed and he laughed with her.
He raised an eyebrow. "I could think of one thing," he said. She laughed again, then threw her arms wide and ran into his arms.
They were sitting on the couch, wrapped up together in the blanket they'd used the night before, facing out towards the river. The sun was low in the sky and it would be dark soon. The crew would be back by eight or so, for them to finish up. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder and she lifted her hand and rubbed his cheek. "So, I've been thinking about what we could sing together at your fundraiser," he said. He, along with other members of the cast, had agreed to perform at an event she was staging to raise money and provide visibility for the African Children's Choir. It was something close to her heart, because of Yoby, and he was happy to help her out.
She laughed. "Oh, no, no, no," she said, waving a finger in the air. "I told you after that last time, that I was never doing that again."
He grinned. "No, I think you said you'd never do it again unless I was on stage with you."
"No, I'm very sure that is not what I said."
He leaned into her ear. "Ah, come on, baby, we'll do it together. It'll be fine, I promise."
She turned slightly in his arms to look at him, a frown on her face. "It's in two weeks, Chip. I'm not going to do that. I don't have enough time to prepare anyway."
"I was thinking we could do something we've already done. Something that wouldn't take a lot of time to prepare for."
She shook her head and settled back against him. "I don't really want to argue with you on this, Chip," she said.
"Then don't." He reached under the blanket and played with her nipples, feeling them get hard under his fingers. She caught her breath and then made a little noise.
"You can't tempt me with sex," she said, her voice soft and languid.
He slid one hand down between her legs. "I can't?" he murmured into her ear.
"Chip, don't," she said, even as she drew her legs up. He plunged his index finger inside her, while he continued to play with her nipple, and she moaned. "This isn't fair," she whispered, as she moved her hips in rhythm with his finger sliding in and out of her.
"It's not supposed to be," he whispered, as he slid a second finger inside her.
"Oh, God, Chip, I'm gonna come," she groaned and then he felt her slip over the edge as she cried out. He loved how responsive she was to him and was grateful for this gift of extra time to spend together. She breathed in deeply, then let her breath out in a whoosh. "You definitely know how to get to me," she said then, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You take advantage when I'm most vulnerable."
"So that means you'll sing with me?"
She hesitated. "What were you thinking?"
"Something I think the fans will like. Something we've already done together."
She ran her fingers up and down his arm. "I'm afraid to hear what you've decided."
"'Rivers Between Us'." He personally thought it not only was a great Deacon and Rayna song, but it fit for them too. There are kingdoms to keep us apart / So we live out our lives in the dark. Those words in particular had always resonated with him. They had talked about how the song could have easily been about them, and their situation, and it had made it all the more poignant when they'd performed it in the last episode.
Her fingers stopped. "Are you sure? That seems kind of…risky."
He shrugged. "It's one the fans will like. It'll be a preview for the show. The fact that it could be about us? Beside the point."
She hesitated. "I don't know. The whole thing. The song. Singing at all. I just don't know."
He hugged her close. "Baby, it's your deal. I think it will be great. And we'll do it together, so you don't have to do it alone. And you don't have to do harmony. We can just straight sing it." He rubbed his head against hers. "Please, baby, sing with me."
She sighed, but was quiet at first. Then she sighed again. "I'll think about it," she said. She sat forward then. "I'm hungry."
He smiled. "Want me to go pick something up?"
She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Yes, please," she said, with a smile.
He slid out from under the blanket and pushed it around her. He reached for his clothes. "I'll be back then," he said. He quickly got dressed and then turned back to look at her as she sat on the couch with the blanket wrapped completely around her. "Any preferences?"
"Nothing heavy. Maybe just a salad or something." She smiled up at him.
"Okay, then. I'll be back." He walked over to where his jacket was and shrugged it on, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Then he headed out the door and down the porch.
It took longer than he'd expected to get back with food. Or maybe he really should have expected it. He had gone to Opry Mills, since it was close and there would be a selection, and, of course, people had recognized him. He'd gotten used to people calling out 'Deacon!' when he was out in public, or looking at him as they tried to decide if that's who he was. As he always did, he stopped and took selfies with fans, waved at others, and tried to be friendly. As he waited for food to get prepared at Claim Jumper, he signed autographs and chatted people up. As anxious as he was to get back, he never wanted a fan to be disappointed with their experience.
Connie was waiting anxiously when he got back. "What took you so long?" she asked, as she grabbed at the bag.
"Fans," he said, watching as she took containers out of the bag and slid his over to him.
"I hope they didn't follow you or anything," she said.
"I hope not either, but I didn't see any headlights in my rear view mirror," he said, with a wink. "I think we're safe."
She walked over to the couch with her salad, sitting down with her legs crossed. "I hope we're not here too late," she said, as she took the top off the salad and added the salad dressing. "I have such an early flight in the morning."
He sat down next to her, putting his carryout container on the coffee table. "How long will you be gone?" he asked, glancing over at her.
"Just a couple days." She smiled. "It'll be a great trip, though. So rewarding to be honoring school counselors."
He smiled. "Like Tami Taylor, huh?"
She laughed. "Yeah, I guess. That's just such an admirable profession, in my opinion. You have such an opportunity to shape young minds and set them on the right path for the future. Good ones do, anyway." He loved listening to her talk about things that mattered to her. Her whole face would light up and he could hear the passion in her voice. He admired the fact that she made the time for so many things like this and it sometimes made him feel like he didn't do enough. Like he didn't measure up to her greatness.
"You're speaking, right?"
She nodded as she chewed. When she swallowed, she smiled. "Yes. Such an honor. And, of course, Michelle Obama will be there. I'm such a huge fan." She laughed. "I'll be fangirling the whole time."
The crew arrived late, filming ran until nearly midnight, and then she was gone. Although she'd only be gone for a few days, he missed her already.
######
Of course he was able to talk her into singing with him. He'd known she would and, even though she claimed she hadn't decided until the night before, he knew she had decided long before that. As she'd said, he could always get her to agree. He ended up staying late. He wanted to celebrate with everyone, but mostly Connie. She'd done an amazing job with the show, selling out 3rd & Lindsley, and putting together an impressive lineup. She'd seemed almost giddy at times and he loved seeing her that way.
She'd looked so pretty, in a colorful dress that showed off her impossibly long legs, and knee high boots. He sat on the side stage, his eyes not leaving her as she went back and forth to the stage, encouraging her when she was backstage. Her smile was huge and her eyes were sparkling and she often reached for his hand to squeeze it.
They had been careful all night. She had clung to him a little onstage, but it was her nerves, he was sure most people thought. The hug at the end of the song had been a hug between coworkers, even though he knew it was more than that. She'd been relieved when he'd told her Patty wasn't coming, so she was a little more relaxed. It was still obvious that outside a studio she was shaky and unsure of herself onstage, but he loved that she was brave enough to do it. And the crowd loved the sneak peek at the upcoming song.
His mom and daughter, Taylor, had come and he'd tried to make sure they had a good time as well. They had tried to get him to leave with them, but he waved them off, telling them he wouldn't stay long. He hung close to Connie, caught up in her excitement, chatting with her friends who'd also come to support her.
He'd ended up staying longer than he'd meant to. "I'm gonna head on," he whispered in her ear finally, realizing he needed to get going.
She turned to face him, grabbing his shirt sleeve. Her smile lit up her face. "Thanks. For everything. For making me feel okay out there."
He smiled at her. "I'm glad it was a success."
She smiled again, a radiant smile. "It was, wasn't it? I wasn't sure people would really come."
He shook his head. "Seriously? I mean, you're Connie fucking Britton. Who wouldn't show up for that?" She gave him an amused side-eye and he shrugged. "The people who matter were here." He smiled. "Plus, I get to do this." He looked around but they were in a secluded area and no one was looking at them. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Very definitely not a coworker kind of thing.
"Chip," she scolded, with a tiny frown, as she pulled at his shirt sleeve again. "Don't. Not here."
He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'll do better when I see you Tuesday."
She looked up at him a minute, then reached up and put her arms around his neck and hugged him, leaning into him. He put his arms around her waist and held her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair. She finally pulled away and he could see a wistfulness in her eyes. "I'll see you then," she said. Then she lifted her hand in a wave and turned to walk back into the crowd.
He made his way through the kitchen and turned for the stairs. "Chip," came a voice from the living room. He turned to see his mother, sitting in the dark. She turned on a lamp and he could see she didn't look happy. "Come sit," she said.
He hesitated. "I'm beat, Mom. Can we do whatever this is tomorrow?"
"It won't take long," she said. He still hesitated for a moment, then finally walked in and sat down in the chair next to her. She looked at him a little sternly, the way he remembered her looking at him when he was a little boy and he had disappointed her. "I'll be brief." He could see her displeasure, heard a tightness in her voice, and felt a mix of defiance and guilt. "All I want to do is remind you – again – that you have a family. A wife and children who love you. Don't throw it away for something that may not be real."
He was silent. She really didn't know what life had been like for him, for Patty, all these years. She obviously had no way of knowing his feelings for Connie, or hers for him, no matter what she may have surmised. She had no way of knowing those feelings were definitely very real.
"This could be over in an instant," she went on. "And she'll go back to California." He clenched his jaw. She put a hand on his arm. "Just think carefully." Her voice had softened then, just a bit, enough to let him know that, at the end of the day, her concern was for him. She got up then and walked back to the guest suite.
He turned out the light and sat back in the chair, thinking about what she'd said. There was always uncertainty around a TV show at renewal time. Nashville certainly wasn't a ratings powerhouse, but it had a loyal group of fans. People around the show seemed apprehensive about the future, which did make him wonder about what would happen if they got cancelled.
First of all, he'd be disappointed. Deacon Claybourne was the role of a lifetime, one that let him do the two things he loved most – act and play music. He was writing music as well as performing it and it had totally reenergized him. But even more than that, he'd found Connie. He hadn't really thought about her going back to LA. He supposed he would too – it would be tough to field an acting career from Nashville – but he'd grown to love the city. And uprooting his family – again – would be hard.
He rubbed his hands over his face, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Ever since his family had moved to Nashville, it had been a tricky thing. He was glad to have the time with his kids, to see them every day, be part of their lives again. They were the thing he and his wife had done really, really well. He loved Connie, though. Deeply. And she loved him, he knew that. It had been kind of a revelation, discovering the kind of deep, soul-changing love he had with her.
That Connie had been mostly patient and understanding had been a gift, but it wasn't any easier for her than for him. She filled her time with Yoby and new friends and causes she cared about. But he could hear the loneliness in her voice, see it in her texts, and he felt it too. There was never enough time and what they had was so precious.
He steepled his hands over his mouth and closed his eyes. It was hard for both of them and he had no easy answers. It meant they fought more, sometimes over things that didn't even relate to their relationship. He felt guilt on all sides. What he wanted more than anything was more time with her.
"You should come upstairs."
He opened his eyes and looked at his wife, standing on the stairs. He took a beat and then he got up. As he watched her walk ahead of him, he wondered why she didn't call him out. But she stayed quiet, stoic, smiling for the cameras, but otherwise ignoring the very large elephant in the room.
As his pace slowed, he thought about the fact that, one day, he'd have to face it. Either he'd make a choice or one would be made for him. He wanted to be in control of that, make the choice himself, if he could. What he knew for sure was he was hurting someone he still cared about and denying himself to the one he love.