Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up - I made the terrible mistake of rewatching Nashville Season 5, and it took me ages to get back into the good vibes headspace I needed to write this chapter! So hopefully the tone of this works, hopefully you can picture them in the cabin together as this all plays out, just like I'm imagining it.
Here it is!
Chapter 7 - The perils of songwriting
Rayna had insisted on doing the washing up, so Deacon settled on the sofa with his guitar, mindlessly picking tunes. It wasn't until he noticed Rayna quietly singing along that he realised he fingers had found their way to some of the old songs from her first album.
"Takes me back." she said dreamily, her mind drifting back to that exhilarating and overwhelming first tour that they'd experienced together, a smile dancing on her lips.
"Yep. Sure does." murmured Deacon, caught by a sudden flashback of a fresh-faced, exuberant young Rayna brimming with talent and excitement, and his heart contracted sharply with love for her – for the girl that she was, for the woman she'd become, and all the bits in between. He'd never felt luckier for knowing her, for being able to spend all these years by her side, and it left him breathless.
Sideswiped by the sudden surge of emotion, he took a deep breath, needing to lighten things up before he was swept away.
"Remember this?" He plucked a few bars of a jaunty tune, and she threw her head back in delighted laughter before singing along. A silly ditty that had been conceived at the bottom of a whisky bottle with their absolute certainty of chart-topping heights - although the dusty light of morning had dawned with the realisation that it had just been complete nonsense.
"Shame that never made it onto an album!" laughed Rayna. "Can't believe you remember that."
"I remember all the music I've made with you."
His comment was deep and sincere, and he held her gaze steadily as she took a shaky breath, glad for the kitchen bench holding her up. There was just no escaping the fact that the two of them were so intertwined, that she knew no matter which way she turned, she'd always be facing him.
Still plucking the strings, Deacon thought for a moment, then tried out something new, repeating it twice before adding a few lyrics.
"Been playing around with something like that. Though them last words just don't sound right." He sang it again, then screwed his face up.
Rayna, before she could stop herself, drifted over to the sofa, perching on the arm and humming his tune back to him, before trying out some lyrics of her own, switching some of his around. She then adlibbed a few more lines, and Deacon beamed in encouragement.
"Yeah, beautiful, Ray. Then maybe a bridge like..."
A few more bars, a melody hummed, words tried and tested, a mutual nod when something felt right. Rayna slid closer to him on the sofa, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in the music.
"Take it from the top of the bridge." he instructed softly, and then harmonised with her, their voices blending perfectly, as they always had.
Suddenly, Rayna's eyes snapped open.
No.
She was absolutely not making music with Deacon right now. Not here. Not in this place. She knew what song writing stirred up. Where it led. And she knew the inevitability of them melting into one another, with no way back from that. This cabin had seen a lot of their most passionately intense songs born from the depths of their lust and love through an all-encompassing process. Sure, over recent years they'd still written together, but they'd always made sure that it was in the controlled environment of the studio, or somewhere public and boundaried. Here, everything was up in the air. In this cabin no barriers existed, music and love and sex and passion all moulded together, became one. It was building already as they sat facing each other, knees almost touching, the heat between them enough to set something alight.
Brakes. She reminded herself. Put the brakes on before we collide. Repair the relationship first, and then...
And then, indeed.
A little tremor of pleasure rippled through her at the thought of the 'and then'.
She caught herself, and slapped her hands on her thighs, forcing a bright smile. "Y'know we should take a little breather, don't you think? Feel like going for a walk?"
"Right now?" asked Deacon, bemused.
"Yeah. Right now." Rayna was already up, shouldering her jacket.
"Alright." Deacon chuckled, standing up to do the same.
He had a fairly good idea of why she'd called the sudden intermission. The chemistry that they had together was undeniable. Over his lifetime, he'd collaborated with many people on many songs and it was always a connective process, but with Rayna it was another level entirely, something out of this world and he knew she felt it too. It had been there from the very beginning, and it had never disappeared – that made it addictive and beautiful and thrilling. And this was the first time in a long time that they'd been in a place where there was nothing holding them back from one another anymore. Nothing in the way. And maybe that made her a little wary. But he was damn ready for it. Damn ready for her.
Outside, the clouds had started to gather, crowding and moody, the sky shot with purple veins, the wind picking up the leaves at their feet. The fresh air was sobering, exactly what they both needed after that intoxicating moment.
They strolled by the lakeside, falling into easy conversation as they reminisced on tours gone by, wondered about old friends, recalled songs long forgotten, remembered whirlwinded cities. After a lifetime shared, they knew one another better than anyone else, they were connected on so many levels, that at the core of it there was something effortless about being in each other's company that neither had ever experienced with anyone else.
At some point Rayna had hooked her arm in Deacon's, their bodies bumping lightly together as they walked, their feet taking them to their favourite cove where a large old tree trunk lay across the shore, the water lapping gently beyond.
As Deacon scooped up a couple of stones to skim, Rayna looked on with a heart that was quickly filling to bursting. She was overcome with gratitude towards Deacon for stealing her away to enjoy this brief and much needed break from her life in this little slice of paradise, a little escape from the real world.
Although, when she thought about it, it wasn't really an escape from the real world, was it? It was a reminder of what life with Deacon would be like.
The real world with Deacon.
If they were together, these blissful, private moments where it felt like everything else just fell away would be their reality just as much as their hectic Nashville life.
A shiver ran over her at that very enticing thought, and she was so lost in her head that she didn't even notice Deacon standing staring at her, a concerned look on his face.
"You cold? C'mere."
Before she could protest, his arms were around her, strong and warm, and she couldn't help but relax into him, tucking her head against his chest. Breathing in his familiarity - musk, wood, spice, she floated away for a minute, as Deacon's hand slid to the base of her neck, his thumb moving in a gentle caress against her nape, the other hand running slowly down her back. A low hum of pleasure escaped from her before she came to her senses and eased herself out of his embrace.
"Ok! Thanks, I'm good now. Walking will help warm me up."
She gave herself a little shake. One damn touch from Deacon and she was coming apart at the seams! What had she only just reminded herself about putting the brakes on? Anyway, it wasn't like Deacon was that irresistible... surely she had enough self-control to resist him, surely she could manage to hold out a little longer. Surely...
The competitive side of her resolved to do her best to keep Deacon at arm's length for the moment, to prove to herself that she was more in control of her own body than he was - all the while doing her best to ignore the little voice in her head that told her she had no chance of winning this game.
Deacon suppressed a smile at the flustered Rayna. "Let's walk then."
As they arrived back at the cabin, Deacon tipped his head up to the blackening sky, the clouds closing in, the air heavy with the smell of rain.
"Storm's on its way. Better quickly fix that piece of guttering before the rain sets in." He pointed up to a disjointed section of the gutter hanging loose at the side of the house, and made off to the shed around back. Rayna meandered along behind him, looking at the neglected flowerbeds at the rear of the cabin that were tangled with weeds. As Deacon found his ladder and set to work on the gutter, Rayna started weeding.
It had been a long, long time since she'd done any work in a garden – they had a gardener for the grounds at Belle Meade since they were so stretched for time – she'd forgotten how cathartic it was, and was quickly lost in daydreams as she methodically worked her way along the flowerbed.
Finished repairing the gutter, Deacon stood at the corner of the house, observing a contented Rayna on her knees in the grass, pulling up weeds and singing quietly to herself. He was struck, once again, by how damn beautiful she was, especially at times like this when she wasn't even trying.
"What's that you singin'?"
Rayna jumped at the interruption, and looked up to see Deacon leaning casually against the side of the cabin.
"Deacon! Nearly gave me a heartattack!"
"Sorry." he grinned. "Couldn't help listening to ya. That sounded real pretty. You got a new song swirlin' in your head?"
Rayna shrugged. "Just a couple lines so far." She didn't want to tell him that the song had been inspired by them, this place, by the feeling that they were the only two people in the world, the feeling that he was the part of her that had been missing for so long.
"Sing that last bit again."
Standing, Rayna propped her hands on her hips. "Not happening, Claybourne."
The amusement twinkling in his eyes told her that he knew exactly why she was resisting him on this.
"Alright. I'll just get it out of ya later." he rasped in promise. And then he gave her one of those looks. The voracious ones. The ones that made her shiver in delight and anticipation. The ones that made her temporarily forget her intentions to resist him.
Just then, the rain started. Big, fat, slow drops splashing all around, and they tipped their faces to the heavens. The storm overhead now, the clouds dark and close and heavy with the promise of something powerful and intense, and they raced inside before they got drenched.
"I'm gonna wash up real quick. Got some gutter slime on me." Deacon headed for the bathroom, as Rayna washed the dirt from her hands in the kitchen, thinking she'd better change out of her own damp, soil-streaked shirt.
The cabin was warm enough, so Rayna changed into the old white tank top from the drawer of her things. It was tighter than it used to be all those moons ago – having children had definitely accentuated her curves. She almost rethought her choice, but a devilish part of her wanted to tease Deacon a little, try and get the upper hand.
A short while later when he emerged, fresh and clean, he eyed her up hungrily.
"What're you trying to do to me, Rayna?" he asked, his voice low and slow as his eyes devoured her in that little top that was hugging her figure like a second skin.
"What? Nothing!" she protested, self-consciously tugging the hem down to meet the waistband of her jeans, realising that she was playing with fire.
"Mm-hmm." He moved towards her, a lion stalking its prey.
"You know I've hardly any clothes up here! What am I supposed to wear?!"
"That right there is just fine by me." Deacon reached a hand out towards her waist, and she immediately swatted it away.
"Deacon Claybourne! Keep your hands to yourself!" she remarked indignantly, propping her hands on her hips, causing her top to ride up a little.
"Oh." He raised a brow, his lips quirking. "It's like that, is it?"
"Yes. It's exactly like that." she replied, sounding much surer than she felt, the corners of her own lips twitching.
"Challenge accepted." he murmured.
Oh Lord. Thought Rayna.
She had a feeling her brakes were gonna fail real soon.
Deacon moved towards the sofa, and tossed a casual glance over his shoulder.
"So, how's about you sing me some of that new song of yours? See if we can't make a little music?"
Rayna biffed a wet cloth at his head. "Not a chance!"
Chuckling, Deacon threw it back at her. "Well, what else would you suggest we do to pass the time on a stormy afternoon?"
"How about..." Rayna's eyes flitted around the room, desperately looking for an alternative to the scenario playing in both of their heads. They alighted on the shelf of boardgames. "...a game?"
"Twister?" he tried hopefully, earning himself a withering look from Rayna.
"No. Um... Monopoly."
Deacon rolled his eyes. "Gawd."
"Shut up. We're playing."
They set the game up on the rug, and were only twenty minutes into it when Rayna, sprawled on her stomach, jerked upright.
"What is that poking out from under the board just there?" she demanded.
"Nothin'." Deacon shrugged innocently.
Rayna pulled the board towards her, exposing a wad of bills, and gasped. "Deacon Claybourne! Are you embezzling money again?"
"Damn, Ray!" laughed Deacon. "How else do you think I can afford all these hotels?"
Rayna slapped his arm as she laughed with him. "I should have known. I forgot how much of a cheat you are!"
"Your fault for making me be the Banker. Anyway, everyone cheats in Monopoly."
"I don't!"
"That's why you always lose."
"Fine. I'm choosing a different game."
Rayna returned with Scrabble, and Deacon sighed.
"You sure you don't wanna just work on that song with me?"
Rayna narrowed her eyes. "I want to play Scrabble."
"As you wish."
Deacon dutifully played Scrabble, only sometimes attempting to cheat with made up words, although every instance resulted in a telling off.
"That is not a word." remarked Rayna. "Neither is that. Just pick up a tile, would ya?"
"Nope. I can play."
"You're making up words!" Rayna accused, watching him slowly place tiles down. "T-O-N-G..." She stopped suddenly.
"Tongue." he drawled, fixing her with a deep gaze.
Rayna pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. Nice." she said drily, trying not to focus on his choice of word. "Right, I've got one... 'house'."
"Oh, lookie here. I can use that 'E'."
Deacon laid his tiles down before smirking back up at her.
"Wet." he said with overexaggerated enunciation.
Rayna gulped and stared at the board, a deep clenching in her belly as her body started to respond to his suggestion. With a sharp inhale, she jumped up.
"Well, my letters are awful. I can't go. Let's play something else."
"Hey, I still got a few more words I wanna lay down!"
"Nope. Changing the game."
Standing by the shelf with her back to Deacon, she needed a good few steadying breaths before she could face him again.
"Cards." she decided, and beckoned for him to join her at the table.
"How about poker?" asked Deacon suggestively.
"No." Rayna replied immediately. Every single game of poker they'd ever played had turned into the strip version.
Deacon chuckled. "Honeymoon whist?"
"No."
"Strip Jack Naked?"
"No!"
"Well don't suggest Patience, coz I've been playing that game for waaay too long now." remarked Deacon wryly.
Rayna drew a hand through her hair trying to think of the simplest game that he couldn't make sound dirty. "Uh... Snap."
Deacon snorted. "Alright. Let's play."
It turned out to be a terrible choice of game. Rayna couldn't even make it through the pack before she had to call quits on that too. Deacon intentionally let her snap first every time just so he could smack his hand down over hers, leaving it lingering then drawing away over her fingers with a gentle caress, all too aware of the electric jolts he was sending right up her arm every time.
"Deacon!" she eventually exclaimed, glaring at him.
"What?" he feigned innocence, although he was barely able to conceal his mirth.
"No more games." she declared, standing up, although really, they both knew they were still playing one big one.
"You're just a sore loser." he teased, giving her a jab in the side as he passed her. "I'm getting hungry. Gonna get some food going."
Deacon set to pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards, pots and pans appearing on the benchtop.
Rayna stood cautiously at the edge of the kitchen. "Ok, give me a job to do. I promise I'll try not to ruin anything."
Grinning, Deacon indicated a pile of vegetables he'd laid out next to the chopping board. "Alright. Chop these for me?"
"I can definitely do that." nodded Rayna, getting to work. The kitchen was narrow and Rayna was acutely aware of Deacon at all times. She was sure that he was brushing closer to her than necessary every time he moved by, and whether it was the stove or the two of them, things were certainly heating up.
"Just need a-" She turned around at the same time that Deacon had turned from the stove, and stepped straight into him. He held his arms out to the side, a cloth in one hand and a spoon in the other, and raised a brow in amusement at a disconcerted Rayna against his chest.
"Sorry." she mumbled, skirting around him to find a bowl, before turning her concentration back to chopping. Only moments later, she jumped when a warm hand landed on her hip and a low voice sounded at her ear.
"Scuse me, darlin'."
Trying to ignore the bolt of pleasure from his touch, Rayna quickly scooted to the side so that Deacon could access the cutlery drawer.
"Thank you." he grinned, clearly enjoying himself, as he turned back to the frying pan.
"Here. Taste this." He was up against Rayna again, holding a spoon to her mouth, eyes boring right into her. She parted her lips hesitantly and Deacon gently slid the spoon into her mouth before sliding it slowly back out again, drawing her bottom lip down a little as he did so, his gaze lustful and unblinking.
Rayna nodded. "Good!" she squeaked.
"Yeah?" he said, his voice husky. "You like that?"
"I'm gonna put some music on!" Rayna announced, darting out of the kitchen before she combusted.
"Oh my Lord!" she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath. Resisting him was proving to be much harder than she'd anticipated. He was still so damn good at this game. Given that he could clearly still easily pull her to pieces, she was actually deeply impressed that he had been so well behaved over all the years she'd been married to Teddy. She really must remember to thank him for that one day. Not today, obviously. Didn't want him to get a big head about his skills.
Thumbing through the records, she glanced at Deacon out of the corner of her eye as he moved around the kitchen. He seemed so... capable now. So mature and grounded. The best version of himself, the man that she always knew he could be.
Plus, he was still sexy as hell.
"Brakes!" she said emphatically.
"What's that?" Deacon looked up at her.
"Nothing!" Rayna called back as she found an old classic album to play.
"I haven't heard this song for years!"
She started to dance languidly around the lounge as the rain drops drummed on the roof and the wind whistled outside while Deacon finished up in the kitchen. He admired her unashamedly, his desire for this incredible woman building with every second that passed. How he'd managed to survive for so long without her, he no longer knew. But he did know that surviving without her now was no longer an option. The ache for her was becoming physical, tearing at his chest, and he didn't know how much longer he could be in the same room as her without having her in his arms.
Glad for the distraction of dinner, he set the dishes out on the table. "Food's up!" he called out.
"Do you remember when we went to see these guys play in New York?" Rayna asked as she sat down opposite him.
Deacon nodded. "Yeah, with Vince and Sara. We all stayed in that cheap motel room and Vince ended up sleeping in the bath."
"That was such a fun weekend." A misty memory-mirrored glance passed between them, and they shared a fond smile. Nostalgic conversation followed and disarmed Rayna, as she relaxed once again into the ease of being with Deacon.
When Deacon spilled some sauce on his shirt, there was no doubt it was an accident. But when he took his shirt off to rinse it and decided not to replace it with another one, Rayna knew that was certainly not an accident. With a shirtless Deacon sitting across from her, she tried not to stare as the light reflected off his defined biceps and muscled chest. Her appetite for food quickly disappeared and was replaced with an appetite for something far more carnal, and Deacon was immediately aware of the shift in the air.
Seemed she might be ready to make a little music now.
"Delicious. Thank you for that." Rayna declared as she cleared the plates away.
Deacon just stretched, then fetched his guitar.
"So." he said, strumming lightly as he sat on the sofa. "Gimme those lines, Ray. The ones you were singing in the garden."
Absolutely not. She said in her head.
"Alright." she said out loud.
Dammit. Her head again.
She couldn't help it though. Couldn't hold it in any longer. The bits of her song had been tumbling around in her head all afternoon, and she wanted them out. And more than that, she wanted to share it with Deacon – he was so musically in sync with her, she knew that any ideas shared would be built on and improved, fashioned into something incredible.
And that's how she found herself slip-sliding into creating a song with Deacon Claybourne in the cabin, despite her best efforts to resist.
She sat next to him while he tried out riffs, she tried out lyrics, they batted back and forth until something started to shape between them, enthusiasm snowballing as they progressed.
He'd moved closer to her on the sofa so that he could see the pad on her knees as she penned words, crossed them out and replaced them. With a sideways glance her gaze caught on his and he looked at her that way he always did when they sang together, with an intensity that felt like he was reaching into her and grabbing her soul, claiming it for his own. She couldn't help but respond with a fire in kind. His knee was pressed into her thigh, and she felt herself pushing against him, getting as close as she could with a guitar between them, a deep throb in her belly intensifying with every passing minute.
Scratching out a line, she scribbled another in its place, then heard Deacon singing low in her ear, breath against her neck causing her skin to prickle in anticipation. Turning her head ever so slightly towards him she sang back, then felt his lips ghost over her bare shoulder, the loud thrum of her heart like a drumbeat in time to their music. When her hand had ended up on his knee, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't able to move it away. Turning her head a fraction more towards him, she found his face was achingly close, his eyes on her lips. They sang the last line of the chorus, the words fading away into breath and he held her with his gaze, the magnetism drawing her ever closer.
She felt herself falling, disappearing, and then with a sudden gasp, she launched herself to her feet, dragging her hands down her face, an unbridled look in her eye.
"I'm going to get some water."
Deacon shook his head, still hurtling back to earth himself. Her self-control was admirable – but only hanging by a thread, that much was glaringly obvious, and he grinned.
Rayna returned with two glasses and set them on the coffee table, sitting in the armchair opposite him, despite the intense urge to join him on the sofa again. This was definitely a safer distance.
"Maybe we should take a break from that song." she remarked breathlessly.
Deacon shrugged nonchalantly. A line had been crossed, and there was no coming back from that now. They both knew it. He leaned back into the sofa, casually resting his ankle across his knee. His fingers continued to move lightly over the strings for a while, then the tune morphed into something recognisable.
Rayna gave a hard swallow and bit her lip.
He'd started playing the opening riff of a song that they'd conceived in the throes of passion, right there on the rug at their feet. A song that was so filled with love and memory and feeling, that it was impossible to hear it without reliving it, without visceral flashbacks.
Rayna tucked her knees into her chest, as if making herself smaller would make her a harder target for Deacon's lustful aim, but no such luck. Every impassioned note hit her, arrows to a bullseye, striking directly in her core, his eyes never leaving her own, she herself helpless to look away.
"C'mon back over here, Ray." he drawled, his voice husky and hungry. "Don't you wanna do this with me? Don't you wanna make sweet, sweet... music with me?"
Rayna's breathing shallowed and her heartrate quickened, all she could see was Deacon.
His eyes darkened with desire, and a cheeky smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He hitched a brow.
She hitched a shoulder.
And just like that, the game was over.
The End.
Haha just kidding. I wouldn't do that to you. Even though I know you're cursing me for dragging it all out for another chapter, but hey, if I didn't, the story would have been over ages ago :D
Again, thank you so much for the lovely comments and for taking the time to read, it absolutely has inspired me to see this story through.
See you in the next chapter!