They spent Christmas morning in bed.
The month of December had been a whirlwind of shows and roads, a whistlestop tour of twelve states, exhilarating and exhausting and exactly where they belonged. Rayna's second studio album was shooting up the charts, the venues getting bigger and the crowds louder: she was Making It, as the record label execs kept telling her with a gleam in their eyes. The hard work of the past few years was starting to pay off on a whole other level, and home - Nashville, their little craftsman house on Boscobel - was something they hadn't seen much of lately.
Their truest home, though, was with each other. It was on their tour bus, their driver Barb singing Hank Williams tunes out of key up front; it was a hotel room they would make their own for a handful of hours and never see again; a booth in a dive bar on the high of another show.
All the same, it felt good to be in their own bed. The tour was on pause for the holidays, and they'd be in town for a whole week and a half, the first real time off they'd had in a year. Christmas spirit was heady in the city, colourful lights greeting them as they'd arrived back in Nashville the night before, the bars and streets alive with Christmas Eve celebrations. They'd made a brief stop for groceries and an emergency tree, beelining for home as quickly as they could.
Their house had been enveloped in a chill when they'd opened the door, empty of their presence for too long, and they'd raced straight for their bed and each other, warming the room with their body heat. It had felt decadent, privacy after weeks of cramped space with their buddies in Rayna's band, soft sheets in place of bleached and boiled motel linens, and they'd pulled the covers over their heads and chatted in whispers until they'd fallen asleep.
Morning light had arrived with a frost that covered the windows and hung in the air, nipping at any warm skin it could reach.
'Maybe we should just stay here all day,' Rayna said, half-serious, her head propped up on two pillows - hers and Deacon's. Deacon, with no pillow, was resting his head in the impossibly soft groove between her breasts, far preferable to him anyway.
'Mmmph,' he said, 'you know I'm down for that.' He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her wrist. 'Everyone can go round to Vinny's place, they'd love that. Beer for Christmas dinner.'
Rayna snorted. 'He drinks PBR. We can't do that to them.' She brushed her fingers through his hair and he twisted his head to look at her, his chin on her chest. 'We're gonna have to get up.'
'Damn,' he whispered, flirting with her. 'Well there go my plans.'
'Your plans? And now what would those be?' Rayna asked, a little breathlessly, as he trailed his fingers down her side and slipped a hand under her ass.
'I couldn't possibly say,' he murmured, circling his tongue around her nipple and sliding slowly down her body. 'Just know, baby, that if we were stayin' in here all day, I'd need a little nourishment.' He breathed into her belly button and moved lower, leaving wet kisses as he went. 'I ain't had breakfast…' He eased her legs apart, and lifted his head to lock eyes with her. 'An' I'm starvin'.'
His mouth was on her hungrily before she could say a word, and she jerked against him, her hands flying to his hair. She closed her eyes and let him do things to her that only he possibly could, forgetting all notion of going anywhere at all.
/
By the time Rayna's legs would support her enough to take a shower, Deacon had unpacked both of their suitcases and started frying up some eggs and bacon. She walked into the kitchen to find him humming happily to himself, the old radio that lived on the shelf above the stove tuned to her favourite station. Nat King Cole was singing about turkey and mistletoe, the sounds of the spitting pan and the whistling kettle accompanying him.
'Hey baby,' he said brightly, handing her a mug and raking his eyes over her appreciatively. 'Made you some coffee.'
'Mmm,' she said, taking it from him with a kiss, 'thank you. I need this.'
Deacon chuckled. 'It's been quite a month, hasn't it?'
'It's been quite a year.' She snagged a crispy piece of bacon from the pan and jumped up on the counter next to him, swinging her bare legs. 'I can't believe how much we've done.'
'It sure has been one for the books. I got a feelin' next year is gonna be even crazier.' He flipped the rest of the bacon over with a spatula and gave the eggs a little jiggle, Rayna watching him. 'You look sexy as all hell in my shirt,' he remarked, stepping between her knees and looping a strong arm around her waist.
She draped her arms over his shoulders and kissed him. 'I don't think our guests would be so appreciative if I kept this on.'
She'd only fastened a few buttons, and Deacon toyed with the top one, plenty low enough to give him a good eyeful of her full breasts. 'Better take it off then,' he smirked, and she laughed huskily. He let his index finger slide in and out of the space between them and Rayna let out a little whimper. 'It's a very merry Christmas for me,' he breathed, lingering close to her face.
She pulled him to her by the neck of his t-shirt and kissed him hard, and he dropped the spatula and pressed closer to her, both arms around her waist. When they finally pulled apart they were breathing heavily and the bacon was hissing with impatience, splashing fat across the stove top.
'Shit,' Deacon grunted, untangling himself from Rayna and flicking the heat off quickly, and she sniggered.
'Concentration, Deacon, come on now.'
He grinned and flicked a towel at her, and she reached over and snagged his fork, spearing some piping hot eggs.
'Oh my God,' she said, mouth full, 'these are so good. I'm starvin'.'
Deacon watched her for a moment, and she tipped her head at him in question. He stepped back between her legs and took the fork from her, dragging both pans closer, and started to feed her, and then himself.
They stole kisses between mouthfuls, their tongues salty and warm, and Rayna picked up pieces of bacon as it cooled, lowering them to Deacon's mouth, laughing as he licked her fingers.
'We'd better not try to cook dinner this way,' she said when they'd demolished everything, 'we'd never get it done.'
'Everybody's gettin' here at 2pm, right?' At her nod Deacon lifted her up off the counter and she hooked her legs around his waist. 'So we got a bit of time.' He carried her into the living room, hands securely under her butt, and set her down in front of the Christmas tree.
'I almost forgot we got this,' Rayna said, eyeing the poor thing. It had been the very last one on the lot the night before, and they'd got there just as the guy was packing up to head home for Christmas. He'd taken ten dollars for it, looking at them as though they must have been out of their minds, and they'd lovingly taken it home and carried it into the house, propping it up in the corner of the room. It was leaning a little to one side, looking like it had given up before it had even begun.
Deacon stood behind Rayna and rested his chin on her shoulder, and she leaned back into him. 'Looks kinda hungover, don't it?'
She laughed. 'I don't know if we should decorate it or put it out of its misery.'
'Wanna burn it for firewood?'
They fished out a box of string lights and the assortment of ornaments that had been the last ones on the shelves in a deserted gas station Barb had pulled into the night before. They were the stragglers: a little cowboy boot with red fringing and a chip missing out of the toe, a cross-eyed reindeer, a wooden trio of wise men carrying a crate of Bud Lite and a joint in place of frankincense and myrrh.
Deacon set about lighting a fire in the hearth while Rayna slid an old vinyl onto the record player, and scratchy Christmas songs filled the room, joined by the smokey tang of fresh, slightly damp wood. They sang along while they plugged the lights in and oohed at their pale blue glow, Deacon wrapping them around a protesting Rayna before they made it onto the tree, turning the wilted branches into twinkling arms.
'We didn't get a star,' she said in dismay, hanging the last of the ornaments and stepping back to survey their work. 'Oh but it looks pretty now.'
'It sure does. Our very own rescue tree.' He smiled as Rayna reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 'I think I know what we can put on the top.'
He disappeared into the bedroom and Rayna snorted when she saw what he returned with: a copy of her album, her smiling face on the front.
'Let me just wedge this in here,' he said, balancing it precariously at the very top. 'There - now we got a star on the tree.'
'You are the cheesiest person I've ever met,' she told him, and he winked.
'Don't you forget it, Ray. We're leavin' it up there, by the way.'
'Oh are we?'
He snickered. 'Well you ain't tall enough to get it down, baby, and I think you look cute on a Christmas tree, so yup.'
She swotted him and he caught her in his arms and dipped her dramatically, kissing her as she laughed, her hair trailing the floor.
'You're crazy, Deacon Claybourne,' she said when he set her back on her feet, her head spinning, eyes warm, and she leaned her head on his shoulder and revelled in being close to him. Quiet moments together, just the two of them, had been rare in the past few weeks and they both soaked in the chance. They watched the lights on the tree ebb and flow, the fire hissing rhythmically. It was their first Christmas in the house, the others spent in the old apartment they'd shared with Vince, aside from a rogue one in a hotel room somewhere just outside of Phoenix after a Christmas Eve show it had been too late to get home from. It would be the first time they'd had their friends over for Christmas dinner, and they were excited, keen to make sure it was a memorable one.
'Wanna open some presents?' Rayna asked, and she led Deacon to the couch when he nodded, and plopped down on the cushions, right next to two bags they'd filled with gifts for each other.
'Let's see what we have here,' he said, chuckling as he emptied everything out. They'd challenged each other to buy exclusively from gas stations, and it had turned into a race to get in there first with each stop they made on the road. They'd amused themselves with their choices, opting for the tacky and the ridiculous, and the giftwrap options were no less part of the challenge.
'Is this wrapped in a toilet seat cover, Deacon?' Rayna asked wryly, holding up a suspiciously slippery package.
'You bet it is,' he said, amused at himself. 'Unwrap it and you'll see why.'
She pulled tape off the cover, the kind they'd only been lucky enough to come across in a few select gas stations, the rest being squat-and-see kind of bathrooms, and a pair of panties emblazoned with I PEED IN VEGAS fell out.
'Deacon!' she squealed, remembering what they'd actually done in that Vegas bathroom. Her cheeks flushed at the memory.
'I figured they'd replace the ones you lost in there.'
'Oh I lost them? 'Cause see how I remember it is that you took 'em off and launched 'em so far they went right over the top of the stall.'
Deacon, pleased with himself, sniggered. 'I got a good arm.'
'And an aversion to my underwear?' Rayna lifted an eyebrow at him. 'I'm pretty sure I've lost half my panties over the years thanks to your good arm.'
'Damn right, baby.'
She lifted herself to her knees and held the Vegas underwear up to her hips, wiggling them back and forth for his benefit. 'But now I got these.' Deacon snorted and rose to kiss her, laughing against her lips. 'Until you throw 'em off somewhere, anyway,' she said, hooking an arm around his neck and kissing him back.
They tackled the rest of the pile, uncovering gifts that grew more ridiculous as they worked their way through them, souvenirs of their time on the road, most of which they'd never be able to explain to anyone else. Deacon's favourite was a tiny finger guitar that made him look like a giant, much to Rayna's amusement, and he played her some tunes, singing along in a high pitched squeak until she laughed so hard she snorted. He'd borrowed someone's pink ukulele one night on the road and had had Rayna and the band, in their overtired, exhilarated state, in stitches with his comical singing; when she'd seen the even smaller version she'd known it would be a winner.
Rayna's favourite, on the other hand, was a little bundle of postcards Deacon had put together and tied with string, one for each place they'd played a show on the tour. He'd written her a message on the back of every single one and noted his favourite memory from each stop; she read over them for a long time, reading out his anecdotes - funny ones, sexy ones, poignant ones, beautiful observations that only Deacon could capture.
'I love you,' she told him, torn paper and discarded ribbons falling off the couch in a flurry as she climbed onto his lap and pulled him close.
'I love you too Ray,' he murmured, taking a moment to tuck her hair off her face and just look at her.
'I think we finished them all,' she said, happily surveying the mess that surrounded them. 'We should probably do somethin' about this place, huh? Anyone would think it was Christmas in here.'
'Hmm,' Deacon said, dropping his voice low and hovering by her ear, 'I ain't quite done yet. I got one present left to open.' She pulled away to look at him quizzically and he gave her a flash of a smile. 'I got a serious weakness for unwrapping redheads in my shirts.'
'Oh yeah?' Rayna purred as he stroked his hand teasingly up her thigh, her stomach flooding with heat.
'Oh yeah.' He grasped her hips, fingers gentle, and eased her back onto the couch, and she hummed, holding eye contact with him. She held onto his strong biceps as he laid her down on the pile of wrapping paper debris, a smile on her lips, Bing Crosby crooning in the background.
'In fact,' Deacon continued, fingering the highest button she'd done up, low between her breasts, 'this is my favourite gift of all to unwrap.'
He popped the button through its hole, and another, watching the path of creamy skin he was exposing.
Rayna's heart quickened, and she felt his fingertips graze her belly button. Deacon looked between her face and her body, his expression that of someone about to devour a particularly delicious steak. 'Mmm,' he hummed approvingly, and Rayna bit her bottom lip, head tilting to the side, watching him in fascination.
He opened the last button, and made a slow show of spreading the sides of the shirt, clearly relishing the view: her smooth stomach, slightly parted upper thighs. He moved the material over and away from her breasts, and Rayna was hyper-aware that her fast breathing made them rise and fall, his eyes captivated by their tremble. He peeled the waistband of her panties down over her hips; she lifted them and he expertly whipped them down her legs and, true to his reputation, flung them across the room.
She watched him as he licked his lips, and he looked into her eyes as his palms glided from her hips up over her ribcage, cupping a breast in each hand. He grunted softly as he covered them, massaging them just enough to make her arch her back involuntarily to push them further into his grasp. She raised her arms above her head and gazed up at him, wrapping paper crinkling underneath her bare ass, a smile on her face.
Deacon wedged a knee between her legs and bent his head. He laved her nipple with his tongue, watching it pucker before he sucked it into his mouth, his thumb rolling over the other, and when his straining erection brushed against her thigh Rayna cursed.
'Deacon,' she urged, and he freed her breasts and kissed her urgently, groaning when she pulled him back down on top of her.
'Damn baby,' he rasped as he sucked on her neck and moved his hand between her legs, delighted to find her wet. Two of his fingers slid easily inside her - she'd already taken him in twice during the morning, and his tongue had thoroughly explored her after that; she was swollen and ready for him again.
She was also feeling too impatient for much foreplay. 'Off,' she commanded of his boxers, breathless and with the look on her face that he knew oh so well - fuck me, now, it said, and his painfully hard dick was only too happy to oblige. He shed the boxers quickly, spreading her legs and taking himself in his hand, intent on teasing her just as much as he could get away with. He kissed her, a smoky, lingering kiss, and rubbed his penis through her folds, up and down, her moisture coating him, her breath coming in pants.
She was still in his shirt, and something about the prospect of fucking her with it on felt so sexy that he could barely control himself. 'Is it this you want, Ray?' he asked, pushing his tip inside her and letting it sit there, heavy and throbbing in her entrance. She whimpered, almost coming at the feeling, and managed to nod her head.
She knew Deacon's weaknesses though, and she slipped a hand down between their bodies and rubbed her clit, looking up at him with wide eyes. He loved when she touched herself, and she made sure to stroke his length for good measure, deliberately not trying to push him further inside her. She knew he'd do that all by himself, unable to help it, and she was right: he hissed, covered her fingers with his and held them against her clit as he thrust himself into her hard, as deep as she could take him.
She was hot and tight and he dropped his forehead onto hers and stilled for a moment, both of them enjoying the intensity of the feeling. He started to move when she grasped his ass, knowing she loved to cup it while he pushed in and out of her. He gave her some hard thrusts mixed with shallow ones, and she pulled her knees up a little, opening herself up to him so he could go deeper.
'Jesus,' he gasped into her mouth, 'this is the best fuckin' Christmas ever.'
She laughed, a husky, milkshake sound that she only made when she was turned on to all hell, and looped her arms around his neck to pull his full weight onto her. She kissed him between her cries, their breath mingling, tongues and teeth adding to their pleasure.
He pulled himself all the way out of her and paused to push his glistening dick all the way back in, repeating the motion a few times, so hard and she so wet it took no guidance from either of their hands. She grasped her own breasts, pinching her nipples and digging her nails in just enough to leave white crescent marks on her flesh, lifting her head just enough to watch what he was doing to her, and he could only manage the sight of her massaging herself and the sensation of her swallowing him back in for a few moments longer.
'Mmmfuck,' she cried when he gripped her thighs and pressed himself into her. He felt her gush around him and her moans became high pitched and urgent, her legs locking around his hips. He pulsed against her in the spot that made her come without fail, and she lost all capacity to form words, clinging to him as he panted heavily and fucked her with abandon.
She came hard, her fingernails digging into him driving him past the point of all control, and he burst inside her, hot come rushing into her, the sensation prolonging her own orgasm until she saw stars behind her eyelids. Deacon held her tight, moving without rhythm until they both came back to themselves, and she wrapped her arms around him and murmured nonsense while they let their breathing slow.
'Deacon…' Rayna said, looking up at the shadows the twinkling tree lights were making on the ceiling, his head resting in the crook of her neck, face-down, lips pressing open mouthed kisses there. 'I think there's a bow on my foot.'
Sure enough when he glanced down, a red bow was sticky-taped to her ankle, making her look like quite the Christmas present: naked but for his shirt, a sheen of sweat coating her skin, still cradling him inside her.
'You're the gift that just keeps on givin', baby,' he smirked, reaching down and snagging the bow. He propped himself up on his elbow and attached it between her breasts, and she shook her head at him.
'You better watch out, Deacon, or I'll wrap that toilet seat cover where you don't want it.'
/
The first knock at the door came as Rayna was sliding a joint of beef into the oven, Deacon peeling potatoes next to her.
'That'll be Vince,' he said. 'You know he's always early where there's food involved.'
He was right: on their front steps when he opened the door stood a Christmas-sweater-clad Vince, a bag of presents in one hand, crate of beer under the other arm. A blast of cold air entered with him and Deacon chivvied him inside, greeting him with their customary man-hug, no eye contact made during and a slap on the back after. Rayna smiled, always enjoying their small displays of affection, and their awkwardness at expressing it.
'Nice apron, man,' Vince said, side-eyeing Deacon, who looked down at the elf costume plastered on the front of it and grinned.
'Merry Christmas Vince,' Rayna said warmly, dropping an oven mitt on the kitchen counter and pulling him into an embrace. 'Oh you're freezin'. Come stand by the fire.'
He obliged, handing the beers to Deacon and setting his gifts down on the coffee table, and Rayna passed him an eggnog she'd tried her hand at making.
'Holy shit, Rayna,' he said, taking a healthy sip, 'little more nog than egg in this, huh?'
She laughed, having sampled a little too much herself already, her cheeks pink from the fire and the rum. 'It was my first time. I went a little crazy.'
'You ain't made eggnog before?'
'Nope. You and Deacon always made it in our old place, you never trusted me, remember?'
Vince winced on the back of another sip and cleared his throat. 'I don't know why that coulda been, doll.'
He settled himself on the couch, feet up. The three of them had lived together for several years, still spent more time on a tour bus with each other than in either of their houses, and Vince was a regular fixture in the new house. The couch may as well have his ass print in the cushions, Deacon often remarked.
'Oh,' he said, wedging himself up just enough to reach under his butt. 'Sat on a bit of wrapping paper.'
'Babe,' Rayna hissed at Deacon, who didn't so much as try to hide his snigger, giving him an elbow to the ribs, but she smiled all the same as she tossed his peeled potatoes into a pot of water.
'So we're back for two whole weeks,' Vince said, swilling his glass. 'I don't even remember the last time we had two weeks off.' He twisted towards them. 'Wanna make some music?'
Rayna laughed softly. 'None of us are very good at time off, are we?'
'I don't even know what it is. What do people do with it?'
'Other people probably do normal people shit,' Deacon said, leaning over Rayna to get to the pile of vegetables still to be chopped. 'Spend time with their families, read a book, take in a movie. You, though, Vinny - exactly what you do while we're on the bus: fart, eat, sleep.'
Vince got up and wandered over to the counter, perching himself on one of the stools on the other side of it so he was facing them. 'You got me all wrong Deac.'
'Oh yeah? You gonna shock us all and go see your mama these holidays, maybe learn how to read?'
He snorted dismissively, reaching over to pluck a carrot from Rayna's growing pile of neatly cut batons and crunching it loudly. 'Hell no. I'm gonna eat then fart, and then sleep.'
/
Bucky turned up next, carrying a plate of chocolate tart he'd somehow found time to make, Cole and Audrey pulling into a parking space on the other side of the street as Rayna was ushering him inside.
The more their guests piled in, the warmer the house got, the windows steaming up with their collective body heat, most notably when Barb bowled through the door, several bottles of bourbon in tow.
'For the festivities,' she said in greeting, hitching the bottles under one arm and dishing out efficient, bone-cracking hugs for each of them.
It was comforting, the chatter and holiday cheer filling the room, the spit and bubble of the pots on the stove. Rayna settled herself on the couch, her belly warm and happy, and lost herself in conversation with Audrey, the hours slipping into early evening, Deacon wedged in next to her, his arm around her. They'd never had so many people in their house at the same time, and each was as happy about it as the other.
'It's turnin' out well, Ray,' Deacon whispered into Rayna's ear, as Vince was regaling their group with a story about one of the many times he'd almost missed the bus to their next tour stop thanks to a blonde and a hangover.
'Mm,' Rayna agreed, her cheeks rosy red, 'it's my favourite Christmas yet.' She kissed his cheek and laughed at his expression. 'I know, I know, I say that every year. But I mean it - every Christmas with you is just perfect.'
'Now who's the cheesy one?' he teased, leaning in to kiss her properly, drawing wolf whistles from Vince and Barb, always reliably rowdy.
'Get a room,' Vince said, mock-disapproving, 'I ain't needin' to see y'all pullin' each other's Christmas crackers.'
'Wouldn't be nothin' you ain't seen before from these two,' Barb chimed in, chuckling into her pint glass of eggnog.
Rayna turned to Audrey and Cole. 'Lies, all of them,' she said, but Deacon's dirty laughter gave her away.
/
It was almost dark outside by the time Deacon got up to check on dinner.
'Hope y'all are hungry,' he said as he lifted lids off simmering pans and checked how everything was getting on. 'This beef should be done any minute now, and it's a hella big one.' He slipped his hand into a mitt and turned around to open the oven door… and stopped in his tracks. 'Um… Ray?'
Rayna got up from her cosy spot, with effort, and padded over to the kitchen. 'What is it babe?'
She was greeted by Deacon's panic face. 'The meat...'
'Oh my God,' Rayna exclaimed, peering through the oven door and covering her mouth. 'Why is it still raw?'
'We didn't turn the oven on, baby.'
She stared at him in horror for a moment, a suspended silence falling over the room, until their guests erupted in laughter.
'Leave it to y'all two to pull off a raw Christmas dinner,' Coleman howled, coming over to witness the offending creation.
Vince pulled himself up to sit on the arm of the couch. 'You know you gotta use heat to cook shit, right? Did you think that cow just wandered in there for the fun?'
'I can not believe we forgot to turn the Goddamn oven on,' Rayna said, mortified. 'Between the two of us, neither one of us noticed it wasn't on? How did we miss that?'
Deacon, his face serious, started to smile, slowly at first and then wider, laughter taking over, until he was bent double. 'Baby,' he wheezed, 'I think we were distracted by other things.'
'Oh my God,' Rayna groaned, still not quite seeing the humour of the situation. 'What are we gonna eat?'
'Well there are a hell of a lot of carrots here,' Bucky said, looking at the contents of the crowded stove top.
Rayna covered her eyes with her hands, squeezing the bridge of her nose. 'Y'all I am so sorry. This is a disaster.'
'Pff,' Barb said, a firm, if clammy, hand clasping Rayna's shoulder. 'We've been in worse situations, sweetcheeks. I seen y'all eat cold beans right out of the tin on that bus and none of you have starved yet, although Vince looks like he's on his last legs. We got this.'
Deacon wrapped his arms around Rayna, and she dropped her head into his chest. 'I got an idea, baby.'
/
He was gone for an hour, Rayna spending much of the time apologising, though after the drinks Barb poured down her neck, she let it go a little. Her stomach was starting to growl right as she heard Deacon's truck pull up outside, his boots thudding up the front steps moments later.
'Dinner's served y'all,' he announced when Rayna pulled open the door for him. His arms were full with several brown paper bags, the unmistakable smell of fast food filling her nostrils.
'Are those… Wendy's bags?' she asked, taking a couple of them from him and closing the door with her foot.
'Sure are, baby.'
'It's like Father fuckin' Christmas just landed on your roof,' Vince said, eyes wide, following them around to the kitchen and pulling plates from a cupboard.
'Burgers for Christmas dinner,' Rayna said, and finally she surrendered to the laughter bubbling up in her throat. 'I can not believe this is our first attempt at hosting - y'all are never gonna come back.'
'Are you kiddin' me?' Coleman said, taking plates from Vince and Deacon and transferring them to the coffee table. 'I'm coming back here every damn year if we get to eat burgers.'
'I'll be honest here, Rayna,' Barb confessed with a wince she really tried to hide, 'I was a little apprehensive about your cookin' skills anyway. And Deacon's are even worse, so some might say this is a mishap straight from the baby Jesus himself.'
Rayna carried the last plate over and sat herself down on the floor, surveying their feast: the table was loaded with piles of burgers, fries, an assortment of wings, mozzarella sticks, tubs of sauce. 'There's a part of me that wants to object to that,' she said, 'but there's a bigger part of me that is shocked we managed to boil potatoes without blowin' anythin' up.' She lifted up her glass. 'So… cheers, y'all. Tuck in!'
It was a greasy and delicious dinner, punctuated by belches from Barb, slurps of coke and murmurs of fast-food appreciation. Snow fell steadily outside as they ate, and the still-raw beef took up an entire shelf in the fridge, forgotten about.
This was how Tandy found them, sunk deep into their chairs or patches of rug in the king of all food comas, full of fries and lazy laughter. She let herself in the door when Rayna called out to her that it was unlocked, and stopped in her tracks, surveying the sight in surprise. Her tailored skirt suit and neatly coiffed hair stood out in stark contrast against the chaos of discarded wrappers and empty soda cups, and she took it all in with a look of wry amusement.
'Well,' she said, as Rayna scraped herself up from the couch to greet her sister with a hug, 'it certainly looks like y'all are havin' a merry Christmas. Is that Wendy's?'
'We sure are, and yes it is,' Rayna replied. 'You look beautiful'.
Tandy held her at arm's length, looking over her Christmas sweater. 'As do you, sis, though Daddy would have had a fit if you'd come around for dinner in that.' She jangled the little bell on Rudolph's nose experimentally.
'It was a gift from Vince,' Rayna said, and on cue, Vince wiped a dollop of ketchup from the corner of his mouth and stood up, giving a little bow of his head.
'You can take my seat,' he volunteered, oh so chivalrous, and Tandy tried really hard not to grimace as she looked at the dent in the cushion he'd left behind, one half-eaten jalapeno popper abandoned on a napkin on the arm.
'That's okay,' she said, fixing a polite smile on her face. 'I'm really just dropping by for a few minutes.' She gave Coleman and Audrey a hug hello, always more of an air-kisser than Rayna had ever been; Tandy had actually taken the childhood etiquette classes seriously. She even managed to return Deacon's embrace, though not exactly with warmth.
'Eggnog?' Rayna asked, already pouring one out.
'Daddy's driver dropped me off,' Tandy said, following her around the kitchen counter, 'so absolutely eggnog.'
'How is Daddy, enjoying catching up on his emails in his study by now?'
'Oh you know him. He was already doing that before we left.' Tandy shook her head, but she bore no resentment, her relationship with Lamar entirely different to Rayna's; it was almost as though they had two separate fathers. 'I missed you today,' she said, twirling a piece of Rayna's free-flowing hair around her little finger. 'I miss you every year at Christmas. Daddy does too, you know.'
Rayna laughed. 'Daddy does not miss me, on Christmas or any other day, and we both know it. You, though - I'm real glad you're here.' She put an arm around her sister and handed her a glass, holding her own up in a toast.
Tandy took a long swig, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline as she swallowed the potent alcohol. 'I should've come around here hours ago,' she said, impressed. 'How was your tour? I'm so happy you're back in town.'
Rayna beamed. 'Oh tour is going so well Tandy, it's such fun. It's good to be home too for a little while, though. Sleepin' in my own bed is a luxury I'm definitely gonna make the most of this next couple of weeks.'
'You mean room service and maids aren't quite cutting it?'
Rayna smirked to herself, very aware how horrified she would be if she saw some of the questionable places they stayed while they were out on the road. 'Let's just say we're lucky if there's a pillow, let alone a maid.'
Tandy grimaced. 'Remind me never to discover a sudden passion for country music.' She downed half her glass and Rayna happily topped it up. 'And Deacon,' she asked, lowering her voice, 'how are things with you two?'
At the mere mention of his name, Rayna's stomach flipped. She looked at him over on the couch, guitars on his and Vince's knees as they quietly played a Christmas song. He glanced up at her as though he felt her eyes on him and grinned, and she felt a little blush creep into her cheeks. She looked up at Tandy, who was watching the exchange. 'Things are wonderful,' she said, and her sister sighed.
'He better be takin' damn good care of you. I've been taking jiu jitsu classes.' She cast her eyes around the kitchen. 'I thought you were making beef today, that recipe from mama's old cookbook?'
'Yeah… funny story about that. Let's just say it didn't quite go as planned.' Rayna hooked their arms together and steered her towards the fire and their little gathering. 'We have some leftover burgers though if you're hungry.'
'Fast food for Christmas dinner - I do not know where you got some of these genes.'
Rayna snorted. 'Oh please, you couldn't cook if your life depended on it. You just have a chef, in your house.'
Bucky stood up quickly and offered Tandy his seat with a glance at Vince, and she took it this time, thanking him graciously. For all she struggled to accept Rayna's life choices and the people she surrounded herself with, though she was supportive despite her misgivings, Bucky she'd always been fond of.
'Remember those dinners your mother used to make on Christmas when we were all kids?' Coleman asked Rayna and Tandy, moving to stand next to Bucky by the fireplace. 'She never even broke a sweat, not even with Lamar bellowing down the hallway.'
'I don't know how she did that,' Tandy mused, and Rayna plopped down on the rug by her feet, stretching her toes out towards the fire.
'I miss her most of all at Christmas,' she said quietly, to murmurs of agreement from Tandy and Coleman. She felt Deacon looking at her, and he started to play when she met his eyes. If We Make It Through December, her mother's favourite, something she'd told him their first Christmas together, when they were just friends and it had only been a handful of years since her mother's accident. 'Oh,' she cooed, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning an arm on Tandy's knee while she listened.
It was maybe the first time Tandy had looked at Deacon without a hint of scepticism, and Rayna tore her eyes away to look up at her, her heart jumping at the soft, sweet expression she let herself wear in its place.
/
Tandy's few minutes turned into a few hours, a few too many drinks and a drunken rendition of Jingle Bells with Vince and Barb, and Christmas Day turned into the next. The roofs of the houses on the street were coated with a blanket of crisp snow by the time Deacon finally closed the front door, the last of their guests treading carefully down the stairs and into the night. Rayna, shivered beside him, gave one last wave goodbye, and let him lead her back to the couch.
'Well that was a Christmas well spent,' Deacon said, voice croaky from entirely too much merriment.
Rayna nodded. Her favourite people in one room, her sister laughing and celebrating with her road family - it had been like a dream to her, joys too many to count. She watched the last of the embers in the hearth as they smoked and sizzled their way to ash, and felt a yawn that surely started from her toes.
'I'm so sleepy,' she told Deacon, curling into him, her head on his chest, 'but I don't want to go to bed - I don't want today to end.'
'So let's not go to bed,' he said, as reluctant as she was to call it a night. 'We can stay right here on this couch, baby. And if we fall asleep, it'll be like we just took a Christmas nap.'
She could hear his heartbeat, feel its gentle, melodic thud against her cheek. Her eyes closed of their own will. 'I like that idea.'
Deacon kissed her forehead, nestling them both down further into the cushions and pulling a blanket off the arm to cover them with.
Rayna's breathing grew deeper, her body sinking into him. 'Merry Christmas, Deacon.'
It was barely audible, tinged with sleep, and he smiled. 'Merry Christmas Ray,' he whispered. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes too was her face on the album cover, illuminated by the soft lights, still in its pride of place at the top of the tree.