Forged in the Fire

by OnceUponASomeday

The forging part. Rayna, Deacon and some familiar faces preparing to set out on their first tour.

8. Chapter 8

Let's not talk about how it's been THREE YEARS since I updated this story, I'm horrified.

Welcome back...

Deacon's body felt heavy as a stone. He woke in no hurry, consciousness coming gradually. He felt her cheek against his chest before he realised the images in his mind were memories, not dreams, and listened to her heart beating evenly as they came into focus.

Rayna, a soft bed, the two of them moving together. Her looking up at him with implicit trust, giving herself to him. There was nothing he'd ever been given that meant more.

He took in a deep, contented breath, becoming aware of his arms wrapped around her, her warm body draped over him. They'd fallen asleep tangled in each other, skin on skin, heavy with a peace Deacon hadn't felt in his life before. He smiled to himself, the stillness of The Morning After potent in the room. Before Rayna he'd never slept well, fitful dreams often propelling him to wake with a knot in his stomach. But now here she was, and he'd found he could let his guard down when she was next to him, the fear of what may invade his mind when he closed his eyes banished by her presence. He sighed, more rested than he remembered ever being, no twinge of foreboding telling him to get out of bed. There was only love where his nightmares used to be.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw through bleary vision was the gold of her hair, bright in the morning light that filtered through the forest outside. Her face peeped out from beneath it, little puffs of breath from her half-open mouth tickling his chest. He brushed the skin of her hip with his thumb as he watched her sleep, enjoying the slight weight of her arm across his stomach, her leg tucked between both of his.

He couldn't believe it had happened. The party, them singing together, just the two of them, the quiet knowledge they'd both had that it was the night. The way her dress had dropped to the floor when he'd unzipped it, the nerves he'd felt. He was sure he'd been more nervous than Rayna by the time it had come down to it.

Flashes of her underneath him made his stomach flush: her legs parted, their hands clasped together, lips lingering on one another's. How she'd welcomed him inside her, the way she'd felt around him. There could have been no way for him to know what it would be like when it finally happened, and now that he did, everything had shifted in a way he couldn't possibly have dreamed up. Deacon had never believed in fate. His life so far had been a struggle, and he'd spent years trying to cling to scraps of hope that it could be different if he just kept his head down and worked hard, focused on his music and being a good person. Looking down at the beautiful girl sleeping on him, as comfortable in his arms as if she was on a silken cloud, he was absolutely certain that fate was as real as his own bones.

'Mmmph,' Rayna mumbled, stirring.

He stroked her hair, murmuring to her, his jaw aching from smiling.

'Deacon,' she sighed, and he thought his heart might explode when she looked up at him. Those big eyes, languid with sleep, the bloom across her cheeks as she remembered, too. He watched it dawn on her, knowing the images were playing through her mind just as they were his.

'Hey baby,' he whispered. She smiled at him, and they shared the moment, the wordless acknowledgement of what had happened between them. It felt tender, sweet, a secret only they were privy to.

'Hey,' she whispered back, and he leaned down to kiss her, running his fingertips over her back.

'How are you feelin'?'

'Mmm,' Rayna mused, considering the question. She stretched indulgently, taking inventory of her body. 'Never better.' She couldn't stop smiling either to his delight, and she kissed his chest, her hand coming to rest over his heart.

'Yeah?'

She nodded, but gave him a shy look. 'A little achy.'

He knew exactly which part of her body she was referring to, and raw heat shot through him at the thought. 'Hmm,' he said, a little more growly than he'd intended, but he couldn't help his reaction to her. 'You are?'

She laughed, the most beautiful sound, and nodded again.

'You're not hurtin', are you?' he asked, rubbing her arm and looking into her eyes. He'd been gentle with her, and there had been a few moments he'd slowed down or held off when she'd seemed to need him to, but it was so new for her, and everything they'd been doing the past few weeks could only prepare her so much physically, however ready she'd felt emotionally.

'Oh no, not at all.' She kissed his cheek and nuzzled her nose against his burgeoning scruff. 'It feels good achy. Really good.'

Deacon felt himself get harder, and unconsciously tightened his hold on her. 'It does, huh?' he said, thick with lust, trying to calm himself down at the thought that she could still feel him, that they would soon drive back to their friends and she'd probably still be able to.

It amazed him that he now knew how it felt to join his body with hers. He would remember the expression on her face during those first moments for all of his days, the way she'd dug her fingers into his back and locked eyes with him - it was the most intimate thing he'd ever known.

She lifted her face and he kissed her, closing his arms around her as she shifted to get better access to his lips; he rolled her onto her side and lost himself in her, her skin warm and clammy and utterly addictive. She smelled sweet and musky, better than any perfume, and he couldn't resist slipping his hand into her hair and flicking his tongue into her mouth.

She pulled back from him eventually and scraped her nails lightly over his jaw, and he watched her process something, her lips parted. One of her feet trailed up and down his leg, and he vaguely registered the summer rain that started to patter on the ground outside, birds chirping somewhere in the distance, as though the whole world was fresh and new.

'I've heard other girls talk about their first time,' she said when she'd gathered her thoughts. 'Girls seem to love to tell their friends about stuff like that.' She drew small circles in his stubble, looking up at him steadily. 'Every one of them said they didn't enjoy it, that it hurt, or that it was awkward. A few of them said they just wanted to get it over with and it was just with some guy they didn't really care much about.' Her fingers stilled and she shook her head, awe in her eyes, and whispered, 'Last night was the most incredible night of my life, Deacon.'

He let out a breath, the sudden worry that she was about to tell him she hadn't enjoyed it evaporating.

'I've never felt anythin' like that,' she continued. 'It was like everythin' else in the world stopped. You made me feel so safe, and so loved.' She bit her lip. 'And so satisfied. I had no idea sex felt like that.'

'Oh baby,' Deacon said, unable to help himself, 'there are so many ways I'm gonna make you feel satisfied, I promise you that.'

She let an involuntary, faint moan escape and his head spun with the notion that they could repeat the night before any time they wanted now, that there would be a second time, and a third, and countless beyond. The most mind-blowing experience of his life was something he could have again and again with her.

'Know what most girls also say about their first time?' she asked, a glint in her eye.

'What?'

'That they didn't even come close to an orgasm.'

Deacon laughed, dropping his lips to her neck to bite her gently. 'Oh is that right?'

Rayna nodded. 'I did not have that problem.'

'Baby,' he said, kissing her and gifting himself a stroke of her ass, 'I will never let you have that problem. I'll make damn sure you come every single time I get my hands on you.'

She hummed and pressed her body flush against him, and gave a little gasp at his very obvious erection, winding her arms around his neck and teasing her tongue into his mouth.

He wanted her again, badly, but she needed time to recover and it felt like a morning to take it all in, to let their new reality settle, all the possibility of what they could and would do now they'd crossed that bridge stretching ahead of them. He couldn't help rolling her onto her back though and pulling a knee up between her legs; he let it graze her, and her breath caught, her hands furrowing into his hair.

'You're somethin' else,' he breathed, and she pulled his head down and kissed him some more. He smoothed his hands over her breasts, down the curves of her hips, and felt her shiver. His heart raced and he held her, waiting for it to slow. 'I'm so happy it was good for you, Ray. I wanted that so much.'

They lounged in the soft, crumpled sheets, sharing sweet kisses and running their hands over each other until they heard groups of people in the corridor outside their room, chattering and pulling doors closed in the distance.

'They must be headin' to breakfast. I forgot, the Jenkins' invited us last night,' Rayna said.

'Are you hungry baby?'

'I'm starvin'. I could eat more bacon than Barb and Vince put together right now.'

Deacon laughed. 'Sex sure works up an appetite,' he said, and thoroughly delighted at her little intake of breath, the aftershock of the realisation that they'd had sex. He figured it would keep hitting both of them for some time.

As if on cue, Rayna's stomach growled, and they laughed together. She stretched under the covers, leaning her head back on a pillow. 'As much as I never want to leave this bed, I'm gonna have to go take a shower.'

'Need some help?' he asked, running his thumb over her cheekbone, savouring everything about the moment. She would get up and he'd follow, and they'd dress and leave this room filled with magic to go into a room with other people, and then hit the road and rejoin their band. He wished they could stay right where they were for the whole day, just the two of them.

'Oh, you wanna help me shower?' she said, teasing him, and he nodded against her lips.

With a long, slow kiss, he released her, and she rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. He lay on his back so he could watch her slip out from under the sheets, and when she stood, his eyes travelled over her body. She turned around to look at him and he felt blood rush wildly to his penis: she was so beautiful - naked, hair messed up, a coy look on her face as she stood before him. There was something different about her too though, a confidence in her exposed state. He sat up.

'Damn, baby,' he said, scooting across the bed to climb out in front of her. He took her in his arms, addicted to kissing her, and let his hands roam her body, no idea how he was going to get through a single minute without being free to touch her.

He took her hand and led her to the bathroom. It had a tub bigger than his entire bathroom at home, two marble sinks, and a walk-in shower plenty spacious enough for two people. The Jenkins' really hadn't spared any expense when they'd built the cabin, but none of it was gregarious or in bad taste; it was homely and private. Of all the places for them to sleep together for the first time, Deacon couldn't have dreamed up anywhere more perfect.

He reached into the shower and turned it on, and helped Rayna in when the water ran warm. The spray was welcome on their spent bodies, and Rayna closed her eyes and let it drench her. Deacon watched the droplets roll over her and stepped closer, the glass steaming up around them. It felt like they were in a cocoon, and he put his arms around her waist and stood with her under the water, foreheads pressed together.

'My legs are still shaky,' she confessed, and he held her tighter.

'I got you, Ray.'

There were bottles of toiletries on a shelf and he picked up a body wash and popped the cap. A sponge dangled below the bottles and he poured some onto it, and ran it gently along her collarbone and over her shoulders. She closed her eyes and sighed her enjoyment, letting him push her hair to one side and reach around to trail it over her back.

Soapy suds ran down her skin and Deacon watched their path, mesmerised. He moved the sponge over her shoulders, her arms, and brought it back up to her neck, diligent in his work. She stood before him and let him wash her, and it felt almost as intimate as the night before, something shared between them in complete trust. He brought the sponge over her breasts, around and under them, pulling a little shiver from her, and watched her nipples pucker, clenching his jaw shut to keep himself from taking them into his mouth.

'This feels so good,' she told him as he moved down over her stomach and hips, and he stepped behind her to reach her back and her ass, every swipe slow and careful.

He lingered there, his breath on her neck making her skin goosebump, and she leaned into him. He forgot his task for a moment and looped his arms around her waist, kissing her temple, and when he recovered himself he poured some shampoo into his hands and brought them to her hair, massaging his fingers through it and working up a lather. She moaned lightly and tipped her head back, and Deacon exerted a valiant amount of effort to ignore the twitch of his penis, suspended somewhere between how erotic and how beautiful it all was. He swept the suds away from her face so she didn't get any in her eyes, and she closed them, her trust in him so clear that his throat closed up.

They stayed that way until their skin was pink from the heat, Deacon using the same sponge to get himself clean too, and when all the bubbles had drained away and their fingers were wrinkled, he reached around Rayna and turned off the water.

There was a pile of fluffy white towels stacked on a dresser beside the shower, and he took one and shook it out. She smiled uncontrollably at him as he wrapped it around her body, and he snagged another and tied it around his waist, his limbs heavy in his delirious haze.

'I'm so happy,' she said, and he took her in his arms.

'Oh baby, I am too,' he replied, and kissed her as though they had nowhere in the whole world they needed to be but right there in the steamy bathroom.

/

'There you are!' Mary Jenkins said when they walked into the breakfast room half an hour later.

A sprinkling of people were still eating, most of them finishing up what looked to have been a meal of several parts, full bellies and morning conversation keeping them seated at the large round tables. The bright room was at the far side of the house and overlooked an orchard, a stone fountain bubbling in the middle of lush, fertile trees.

Mary held out her arms to embrace Rayna and kissed her on each cheek, Deacon next, and motioned for them to join her and John at their table, where two plates with cutlery and two full glasses of orange juice were laid out for them. 'I was startin' to think you might miss breakfast,' she said. 'Y'all must be just worn out after last night!'

Deacon looked at Rayna, who tried to bite back a smile, and nodded. 'We sure are, ma'am,' he replied as evenly as he could manage.

He pulled Rayna's chair out for her and she tucked herself in beside Mary, who took her hand and squeezed it as Deacon sat down beside her.

'All that singin', you were beautiful! It was such a wonderful night,' she gushed, and Deacon was sure no one else would notice but he watched Rayna's cheeks warm in response.

'It really was,' she said, her foot brushing surreptitiously against his leg under the table.

He grinned, making eye contact with Rayna and having trouble getting himself to look away. She was prettier than he'd ever seen her, not for the way her hair had curled after their shower, or for the loose sundress that hung above her knees, but for something he couldn't name that radiated from her whole body. He wondered if the Jenkins' could see it too; surely no one on earth could fail to - she was alive with it.

He wondered fleetingly if they would notice him gazing at her and might guess what had happened the night before. He knew he was barely managing to keep himself together and it had to be obvious to them, and everyone in the room who might have looked their way, that he was completely in love with her. It crossed his mind that Watty would no doubt be calling them today to ask how the evening had gone, to see how his songbird and her guitar player had done at their first private gig. Maybe they'd tell him how Deacon hadn't been able to take his eyes off Rayna, how they'd had an air about them at breakfast that was unmistakable, different from the anticipation of the night before.

'Tuck in!' Mary told them, gesturing at the serving plates in the middle of the table still heaped with food, and suddenly aware that he was starving, Deacon started to heap bacon and scrambled eggs onto Rayna's plate and then his own. 'Did y'all sleep okay?' Mary asked, and they both nodded a little too earnestly.

'Oh, like logs,' Rayna replied, glancing at Deacon, who tried to look like his eyes were wide at the discovery of fresh, steaming biscuits he found in a covered dish, rather than at the wonder of sleeping with Rayna curled in his arms after their night. 'Just the most comfortable beds. You really have built such a home here.'

'Mary picked them out, of course,' John said with a hearty laugh. 'I hope the birds didn't wake y'all - they sure are enthusiastic up here. It's all these trees, they just love to sing in 'em.'

'I ain't ever woken up quite so peaceful as this mornin',' Deacon let himself say, and he hoped it came out innocently.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rayna load bacon into her mouth and knew she was doing so to distract from the huge smile that spread across every corner of her face. He dipped his head and skewered some eggs, shovelling them into his mouth and letting his eyes close momentarily at the taste of them. He wasn't sure if the Jenkins' had a great chef, or if sex with Rayna made everything so much sweeter that even scrambled eggs tasted like heaven.

'Those birds have nothin' on the two of you,' Mary told them, looking between them with a wistful sigh. 'You were magical.'

Deacon took Rayna's hand under the table, trying his best to be discreet. She curled her fingers around his. 'It was a magical night,' he said, and she squeezed his hand like she'd never let go.

/

The drive to their meeting point with the bus took them through winding highway, the Ponderosa pines and wooden cabins of Montana a backdrop to what felt like stolen time, just them and the open road, Deacon's hand on Rayna's knee, her head resting on his shoulder.

It was all Rayna could do not to climb into his lap - he looked so hot she could barely resist him, and she kissed his cheek, breathing in his distinct Deacon-smell, letting her face dwell in the crook of his neck.

The night before replayed in her mind as though through a high-definition projector: his strong arms as he'd held himself above her, the sweat on his forehead, the love in his eyes - more than anything the love in his eyes. She kissed his skin again, just below his ear, allowing herself a little thrill by scraping her teeth in the same spot, and his fingers inched a little further up her dress.

She'd had sex with Deacon Claybourne. It felt like it had taken years to get to this point, years of waiting and longing and secretly loving him, years of trying not to touch herself at night when she thought of him, back when he was just a friend. Since they'd gotten together she'd wanted him more with every passing moment, and by the time they'd made it to her bedroom in the cabin, she hadn't had a second of patience left. The time had well and truly come, and now there was a marker in her life: everything before and after the moment Deacon had looked into her eyes and pressed himself inside her.

She felt an intense fluttering between her legs. She knew she'd never forget it, all the build-up, the nerves, the wondering what it would be like - it had all come down to that moment, and she felt like she was stunned, drunk on it.

The thing with knowing now what sex with Deacon was like was that she wanted it again. Her body felt different, like it had the memory of him written all over it, and it craved him near-painfully. He'd made her feel things she hadn't known were possible; her body had adjusted to make room for him, and it was powerful, knowing she was made to fit him after all, to move with him. She understood now why people called it making love - it was exactly that, a physical expression of everything she felt for Deacon, everything he felt for her, saying more than words ever could. It had felt like a song, she thought, the way they cut deeper than conversation, like one of their songs brought to life with their bodies. It hit her right there in the front seat of the rented truck - with Deacon, making love and making music really were the same thing.

She trailed her eyes over his strong legs, covered by his favourite jeans, over the bulge in them that was there even when he was soft, and rubbed her thighs together. This man wanted her, and his body had changed hers, had stretched and softened her in ways that took her breath away, then and now. Something huge had changed, something she didn't know how to put into words, and the best part was that she knew he felt it too.

'Wanna stop and get a soda?' he asked, pointing at a sign for a gas station up ahead, and she couldn't quite find her voice so she nodded.

He pulled into the parking lot and Rayna recovered herself, watching him jog around to open her door for her. He helped her down the surprisingly high step of the truck and relief flooded her limbs - she hadn't realised how long they'd been driving, and between sitting for a few hours and the events of the night before, she needed the stretch.

'Ohh,' she sighed, rolling her shoulders and breathing in the pine-scented air.

'Little stiff there Ray?' Deacon asked, stepping towards her. 'Need me to help you get some kinks out?'

He pressed her gently against the door of the truck and kissed her, and she was infinitely grateful his hands were gripping her waist and holding her up, because she thought she might melt right into the ground.

She still had her eyes closed when he pulled away, and it took all her effort to open them and try to function. Deacon held out his hand as though he was asking her to dance, his other arm behind his back. She took it and he gave her a little bow, making her laugh, but it was more than just a playful gesture - holding her hand in public was another first.

They walked into the gas station together, two kids in love who couldn't stop smiling, hand in hand for anyone to see. Deacon steered Rayna towards the coffee machine, wrapping his arms around her from behind while they waited for it to splutter out two cups of dark, bitter liquid, idling something and nothing in her ear about some chips he wanted to find, just for a reason to hover close to her.

They popped plastic lids onto their drinks and browsed the shelves, fingers laced together. It was stuffy, the solitary ceiling fan trying its best to little avail, and Rayna was glad she'd worn a dress, but Deacon, in jeans and a Hank Williams t-shirt she'd slept in a couple of times, was looking pretty overheated.

'Come on,' she said to him, pulling on his hand and leading him to the freezers.

Ignoring the stares from the old guy behind the till, she opened the doors and let out a sigh as the cool air hit her skin, and Deacon took their coffees and set them down on a half-empty shelf. He joined her, lifting his t-shirt to fan the air up under it, and the glimpse of his muscular stomach had Rayna hot all over again.

'I want to climb right in,' she said, and he grasped her waist and kissed her right there in front of the popsicles.

'You are hot,' he drawled, and only when the old man cleared his throat pointedly did they pull apart, laughing to themselves.

Deacon snagged two bottles of chilled water before they closed the freezer doors and pressed one against his neck. 'We can pour these on ourselves outside,' he said, only half-joking, and Rayna pictured him with water soaking his hair and dripping down his face. She thought maybe they should get a gallon - she felt like she needed it to calm herself down.

They found the Honey Buns and he picked one up for her without needing to ask, knowing her sweet tooth only too well, and the chips he'd wanted a couple of shelves down. He balanced everything in the crook of one arm and took her hand again, and as they walked to the cash register, fully stocked up, an older lady in a purple knitted sweater pulling a canvas shopper smiled at them.

'What a beautiful young couple,' she said, and patted Deacon on the arm. 'You keep that smile on her face, you hear? Such a pretty girl.'

She walked away and Deacon chuckled, lifting Rayna's hand to his lips. 'She's not wrong about that.'

They paid for their snacks and headed out to the truck, and made out between bites of Honey Bun and sips of bad coffee until Rayna happened to glance at the clock on the dashboard while Deacon was nibbling on her neck. Somewhere between strolling around the aisles of candy and steaming up the truck windows they'd lost track of time, and it was a rude awakening. Barb, who was militant about setting off on schedule, would have their heads if they were late.

Worked up and heated from their kisses, they swung back out onto the highway to try to make up some ground towards Red Lodge, Montana, where their bus would be waiting for them. They made it a few miles before Deacon's fingers worked their way up Rayna's dress too high for either of them to be able to handle and he swore out of the open window, grabbing the wheel with both hands.

'I'm just gonna…' he started, unable to finish his sentence, and he pulled the truck over a little bumpily, his mind clearly not focused on navigating over the grassy clearing at the side of the road.

He flipped the engine off before they'd come to a full stop and his hands were in Rayna's hair half a second later, his mouth on hers hard. She clung to him, gripping the sides of his t-shirt, kissing him back desperately.

'God Rayna,' he groaned, and in one coordinated move she lifted up from the seat and he grabbed her ass in his huge hands and manoeuvred her on top of him.

She straddled him, feeling his erection already straining in his jeans, and wetness made her panties slick as she ground down against him. Deacon thrust his hands down the back of them and gripped her ass, pressing her onto him tighter still.

'We're gonna be so late,' she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady herself. He yanked himself from her lips to her neck and kissed her with a wet mouth, one hand reaching up to cup her breast.

He pulled the neckline of her dress and the cups of her bra down, and she arched her back, pushing herself towards his face. His breathing was heavy and laboured as he moved down her chest and when he reached her nipples his mouth was hot around them; he sucked hard and she threw a hand against the door, the other grabbing his hair and almost ripping it out.

He moaned so deep in his throat while he sucked that Rayna felt herself almost come; she knew if he touched her now she'd go off like a firework. She wanted him inside her like she'd never wanted anything in her life, it sent her crazy, the force of it incapacitating her. She rocked against his erection, irrationally angry that it was covered by his pants, and lifted up to wrench his zipper down, pulling so hard on the button that it almost popped off.

'I can't,' she hissed when she encountered his boxers, frustrated that she was unable to get it free, and he pulled himself off her breasts to look at her, his mouth open. The sight of his tongue was more than she could take and she cursed, staring at it. 'I need…' she tried, but no complete sentence was within her grasp.

Deacon, however, knew exactly what she was trying to say. His eyes flashed and he lowered his voice to a dangerous level, one that she felt straight between her legs. 'Is this what you need?' he asked, managing to pull his jeans down just enough and pushing his boxer-clad penis up into her, working it against her.

She heard an almost-sob come out of her mouth and dropped her head back to try and catch her breath. He licked her throat, and one of his hands snuck into her hair and lifted her head back up so he could bite her lower lip. She could feel him through his boxers, and with her legs wide open to rest on either side of his hips, he was nestled perfectly between her folds. She rubbed herself up and down, wishing her panties would evaporate, wishing she hadn't worn any, wishing anything that would get him inside her.

Deacon, holding eye contact with her, slipped his hand inside the front of her underwear and teased her clit with the tip of his middle finger for a dizzying moment. She lifted up a fraction, wanting him to push it into her, and he smirked as he toyed with her opening. She uttered something even she didn't quite catch and he flicked his tongue out against her lips and sunk his finger in up to the knuckle.

Rayna moaned his name, relishing the momentary relief, but she quickly needed more. She reached down into her panties and grabbed his forefinger, and to Deacon's great enjoyment, she pushed it inside her too. He sucked in a breath and fucked her with both fingers, harder and deeper, his other hand in her hair. She knew she'd turned him on to a level he couldn't control, and she silently willed him to lose it and take her right there in the front seat of the truck.

'Oh yeah,' she urged, her breath catching in her throat, and with some kind of expert flicks of his wrist, he made her come. She rode his fingers, and he held them still so she could lift herself up and down on them at her will, dragging her orgasm out until she could hear her blood pounding in her ears.

He gave her a few moments to calm and then to her delight, flipped them over and laid her down on the seat. Her hands flew straight to his jeans, pushing them over his hips and pulling his boxers over his penis, shoving them as far down his ass as she could get them. She took him in both hands and pumped him, one at his base to get as much traction as she could, and he pressed his lips against hers, moaning down her throat.

Moisture seeped from his tip and Rayna felt wild; in the confined space she couldn't get close enough to him, and she was aware somewhere in the back of her mind that she was rolling her hips, one leg trapped underneath Deacon and the other pressed against the back of the seat.

'Baby,' he whimpered, and she could tell it took all his might to speak, 'do you wanna do this here?'

She tightened her grip on him. 'I need you,' she said, sliding her hand up and down, 'I need you Deacon.'

He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, and reached down to still her hand, the effort it took written all over his face. 'I think a lot of people would have my balls for this, the second time we have sex bein' in some truck. I ain't got a lot of willpower when it comes to you Ray, but I'll find as much of it as there is in me to stop right now if you want me to.'

She lifted her head and kissed him, and high on the intoxicating taste of him, pulled her hands free and pushed on him. He lifted up off her immediately and she could see he thought she was calling time on their make-out session, down-and-dirty sex in a truck not her ideal scenario for something so new. Her heart expanded for him all over again, and she laughed. Deacon looked down at her, adorably confused.

'I love how much of a gentleman you are, Deacon,' she said, 'but…'

She wriggled her leg free and reached down, lifting up her dress and peeling her panties off. Tossing them onto the dashboard, she gave him a devilish look, enjoying his surprise and the way the overpowering lust he was willing to push aside for her rushed straight back over him.

'Are you sure?'

'I don't care where we do it,' she said. 'I just want you, anywhere. A bed, a truck - anywhere, Deacon.'

'We,' he breathed, sliding a hand up her leg and over her hip, 'are in trouble.' He kissed her neck, moving up towards her face. 'We ain't gonna be able to go so much as an hour without doin' this, baby, I can already tell. How we gonna get through a whole show?'

'We might need to start puttin' intervals in the middle,' she said, and snagged his lips.

She drank him in, kissing him in bliss, her whole body thrumming with the anticipation of what was to come next. Now that she knew what it felt like there was no apprehension, no unanswered questions about the how and the if; she just wanted him.

Deacon explored her with his hands, making her forget entirely that they were in a truck, even if she had cared. He trailed his fingers up the insides of her thighs, making her legs fall apart in response, and brushed them over her entrance, lightly enough to get her frustrated again, but when she started to squirm he pulled her leg over his hip so he could rub his penis against her, no underwear in the way, coating himself with her.

He pulled the top of her dress a little further down so he could fully expose her breasts to his greedy eyes and his even greedier hands, and she felt something inside her spiral out through her body; laid on her back on the sticky leather seat, her panties off, her breasts spilling out for him and her legs wide open, she felt sexual, brazen almost. She knew Deacon was intensely turned on by her, that she would fully give her body over to him and feel the pleasure they would create together, and it made her hum with power. She felt like a woman, and she knew he would enjoy her, that he was hard and ready all because of her.

'Jesus Ray,' he whispered, almost as though he'd read her mind, and he twisted around for a second and fumbled with his jeans. He had a condom in his hand when he straightened up and Rayna held her breath, watching him hastily roll it onto his swollen dick.

He readjusted above her and she looked up at him, feeling him drag his tip through her folds and start to press against her. She braced herself, waiting for it, and then he was pushing inside her slowly, his mouth open. She felt herself being opened, his penis so hard and full that it seemed even bigger than it had the night before, and she moaned in breathless pleasure, Deacon echoing her with disbelief on his face.

He stopped when three quarters of his length was buried in her, and kissed her as he started to pulse gently. Rayna tried to keep breathing, feeling as though she might come in seconds, and he slowed further still, grimacing with the effort it took. She held onto his biceps and let the tension fall from her legs, and he pushed in a little deeper and brushed her nipple with his thumb, kissing her neck, taking it easy with her.

When she relaxed fully into it he sped up a fraction, and she could hear a wetness as he pumped into her. The realisation that it was her, that she was so wet for him that every thrust helped him slip deeper inside her, made her groan loudly, and her muscles squeezed him in reaction.

'Oh shit, baby,' Deacon gasped, dropping his forehead against her cheek, and with his hands on her hips, he drove into her to the base of his penis and ground against her. She closed her eyes, full with him and delirious, and he circled his hips, breathing into her ear and hitting spots she didn't know were there.

Somewhere in her mind she noted that the windshield was steamed completely up, and she smiled, suspended in the impossible space between desperately wanting to come and wanting him to never stop.

Deacon pulled out and rubbed his tip over her clit, slowly at first, kissing her and murmuring to her, and as the fire in her stomach grew, he sped up, rubbing harder and faster until she was panting. He dipped his head and laved her nipples, and she arched her back to give him as much access as possible, crying out when he snagged one and sucked on it. There was no way she could hold back, and right as she was ready to plead with him to make her come, he slipped back inside her and thrust against just the right spot, like he'd studied a map of her body.

Her toes curled and she squeezed her knees on either side of his ass, digging her fingernails into his back and feeling her breasts bounce as he moved against her. The leather squeaked underneath her and it made it even hotter somehow; she could hear herself moaning and it spurred him on, his speed increasing with her urgency. He slid a hand down her body and found her clit with his fingers, rubbing it in time with his thrusts and making her cry out.

She stopped breathing when she came, the strength of it making her whole body vibrate, and Deacon slowed down, cursing when she grabbed his ass and held him almost still inside her while she pulsed uncontrollably around him, grinding down to suck in as much of his length as she could.

'Oh, baby,' he hissed, starting to move again while a second wave of sensations were still rolling through her, and he came a moment later, his sweat-slicked face pressed into her neck as his body spasmed on top of her.

They were definitely going to be late, and it was worth every second of Barb's impending ire. They lay on the hot seat trying to gather themselves, their skin sticking together, goofy smiles on their faces. The truck smelled of sex and sweat, neither of them in any hurry to right their clothes or let go of each other, and somewhere in the distance - though less distance than their sex-crazed brains had calculated - big-rigs thundered by.

Deacon pulled over twice more before they made it back to their bandmates, just to kiss her, to hold her face in his hands and marvel at her like he was memorising every blink of her eyes. He kissed her with no care for the passing traffic, the occasional voyeuristic long-hauler honking a horn at them, and by the time they eventually got to Red Lodge it was mid-afternoon.

When they turned into the truck stop Barb had given them directions to and saw their bus, Rayna felt a flurry in her stomach. She was not the same person who'd left their friends only a day earlier; she was rejoining them changed, more than she could have anticipated. The shift was deep inside her, and as she looked over at Deacon in the front seat, she felt it solidify. He parked up a few spaces away from the bus and cut the engine, and looked at her with such feeling on his face it took her breath away.

'Thank you, baby,' he whispered, and across the lot they could hear Barb and Kennedy having a loud debate about milkshakes. 'I'll never forget last night.' Dimples appeared in his cheeks, the way they did when he was thinking of something juicy. 'Or this truck,' he said, and Rayna smirked too. 'It means everythin' to me, Ray, that you gave me somethin' so precious, that you trust me with your heart. I love you more than I knew I could love anybody.'

Rayna's lip trembled with the magnitude of it all. She knew they'd get out of the truck and be swept straight up into the whirlwind of the tour, the beautiful chaos of the road, that she'd have to stop herself reaching out to hold his hand whenever she wanted.

'I love you so much,' she said, trying not to cry. 'I can't believe it really happened, it feels like a dream.' He took her hand and clasped it to his chest. 'I wouldn't have wanted it to be with anybody but you, Deacon.'

A clammy palm slapped the window on his side. They dropped their hands quickly and Vince and Jimmy appeared, pulling faces and smearing the glass with their noses.

'If it ain't the prodigal duo, returned to the family!' Jimmy called, putting on a Godfather accent.

Deacon reached for the door handle. 'Guess we better do this.'

'Y'all missed quite the night last night,' Jimmy told them eagerly as Deacon rounded the truck to open Rayna's door.

'Oh yeah?' he said, catching her eye and biting back a smile as he took her hand and helped her jump down.

'Oh yeah - there are some sore heads on that bus today, I can tell you that much. How was the gig?'

'Great!' they said in unison, and Vince's eyebrows shot up.

'That good, huh?' he asked, with a surreptitious wink. He manoeuvred between them and put an arm around Rayna and one around Deacon, and started to steer them in the direction of their bus. 'We're lucky you decided to come back. I'm sure y'all were havin' far too much fun to give us assholes a second thought, but we missed you.'

'Would you look who it is!' Barb declared, catching sight of them and clapping her hands together. Far from being mad about how late they were, she got up from the bottom step of the bus with surprising sprightliness and pulled them into a two-armed hug, the display of outright affection rare for her. 'Did y'all get your asses lost?'

'Um, we had to stop a couple of times,' Deacon said, deliberately not making eye contact with Rayna. 'You know - lotta coffee, long drive.'

'You always did have a tiny bladder, Claybourne,' Vince teased, knowing full well that wasn't the reason.

'Well, it looks like the drive has done y'all a world of good.' Barb looked Rayna up and down and patted her face between two chubby hands. 'You got some colour in your cheeks, sweets. You look like a walkin' ad for health.'

'I didn't eat anythin' fried for breakfast this mornin', that's probably why.'

'They fed you actual food, huh?' Barb gave Deacon the once-over too. 'I suppose you didn't have bad company, that can't have hurt either.'

Before Rayna could say anything, Barb clambered back onto the bus and plopped herself behind the wheel, her favourite place to sit and pass the time even when she wasn't driving. Kennedy, lolling on the floor next to the bus, waved at them, and one look at him was enough to see that he was hungover to all hell.

'You good, Ken?' Deacon asked, amused, and he flashed a thumbs up in answer.

'Never better,' he grumbled, nodding stiffly. 'Welcome back, y'all. You missed a big one - it wasn't a pretty one, but it was a big one. Although Barb's right, by the looks of you two it wasn't nearly as fun as frolicking with the rich folks.'

Rayna looked from Kennedy to Jimmy to Vince; the three of them were bleary-eyed and unshaven, and Vince had a bright red lipstick smear on the collar of his shirt.

'What on earth did y'all do last night?' she asked.

'We made the most of bein' young and free,' Jimmy replied, shimmying his hips and instantly looking like he regretted moving so much.

'Oh is that right? Still feelin' young and free today, are ya Jimmy?'

'I feel ninety fuckin' years old today, sugar,' he confessed, laughing until his smoker's cough kicked in. 'And if freedom means havin' to move my ass more than ten feet, I don't want it.'

Barb honked her horn to aggravate the mass hangover and fell about laughing. Deacon, lingering as close to Rayna as he could without touching her, looked at her and shook his head, his eyes crinkling. She was struck suddenly by the image of him entering her in the big cabin bed, so vivid she almost moaned; she could feel his hot breath on her neck right after he'd come, the seat of the truck under her ass... A flush ran from the top of her head to her toes. Deacon sensed it, she knew he would - he was hyper-sensitive to her. He leaned subtly closer.

Vince, who'd been observing them both quietly, turned his back to Kennedy and Jimmy while they were distracted by Barb and eyed them. 'What did y'all do last night is the bigger question,' he said, giving them a suggestive little dance.

'Get your asses on this bus,' Barb hollered at them all. 'We got just enough time to stop off and get you lightweights some hangover food before we head on to Nebraska.' She craned her neck to look at Rayna and Deacon, tapping on her steering wheel. 'You two look like you could demolish a horse too. Throw those keys back to the rental office and let's get y'all fed.'

'To be continued,' Vince said, walking backwards to the bus. 'Just know I'm gonna be sittin' on that bus in suspense.'

'How are you not worse off today, Barb?' Kennedy asked as he dragged himself up the steps. 'You had more to drink last night than all of us put together.'

'I've had more practise, Junior, y'all are practically in diapers compared to this hunk of finely-aged venison.' She slapped the vague, vast region of her stomach. 'This liver an' me seen a lot together.'

Deacon pulled the keys to the truck out of his pocket and jangled them. 'Wanna come to the office with me?' he asked Rayna, and of course she did - any excuse to spend just another few minutes alone with him.

They walked slowly back to the truck, stalling for time, and the effort it took not to kiss him when he leaned dangerously close to her to open the driver-side door made Rayna's head swim. He looked at her like she was his favourite dessert, and she braced herself against the truck, no clue how they would manage when they got on the bus.

'I'm gonna miss this thing,' Deacon said, gazing at Rayna with his forearm resting on top of the door. 'Pretty damn special front seat it's got.'

She giggled. 'The next people who hire it out will have no idea what happened in there.' She could still feel him; with every step she'd taken since the night before she felt like she was walking differently.

'Mmm.' Deacon licked his lips. 'We sure broke this leather in.'

A horn sounded across the lot and he dropped his head, sticking a hand in the air behind him without turning around to call Barb off. 'Hurry it up, hot stuff!' she called. 'We ain't got all day!'

'Hot stuff,' he said, 'she mean you or me?'

'My money's on you, it's those biceps.' She squeezed one for good measure. 'We better get our stuff before she leaves us here.'

Deacon knelt on the front seat to grab their overnight bags from behind it, and dropped them beside the truck. Rayna looked down at them, knowing the dress Mary Jenkins had told her to keep was folded up neatly in the bottom of hers. The dress she'd worn the night she'd lost her virginity to Deacon. She hugged herself, and craned around him to check the seat for anything he'd missed, snagging her sunglasses and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos.

'All good?' he asked, balancing their empty coffee cups in one hand, and she nodded, but as he went to slam the door she gasped. 'Oh!' she cried. 'Deacon, my panties!'

He looked at the floor where she was pointing, and sure enough there was a little pool of white just underneath the seat. They must have fallen off the dashboard at some point while they'd been having sex, and they'd been so wrapped up in each other the whole journey that neither of them had noticed.

'Hold on,' he said with a thick swallow, holding up a finger, 'so this whole time you ain't been wearin' any panties?' She shook her head and he clenched his jaw and raked his eyes over her sundress, letting them rest on the few inches of her thighs that were visible. It wasn't a short dress, but it wasn't exactly modest either, and he looked like he was trying to see right through it.

'I forgot about them,' she said, the hint of a breeze rustling the material, and suddenly she felt naked. It sent a thrill through her, being exposed around him, and the way his mouth fell open made her want to burn every pair of panties she owned.

'Fuck,' he huffed, wrenching himself away from her and bending down over the seat. 'I don't know how the hell I'm gonna keep it together around you, Ray.' He retrieved her underwear and straightened up. 'Knowin' I could just lift up your dress and… fuck.' He breathed through his nose, holding the panties in a ball. 'You should put these back on. Hell, you should put ten pairs of 'em on, to keep me out of 'em on that damn bus.'

Rayna smirked at him and tipped her head to one side. 'Or I could just…' She took them out of his hand and instead of putting them in her bag, or ducking out of anyone's view and pulling them back on, she reached around to his ass and stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans. With a wicked smile at his shock, she turned on her heel and sashayed towards the bus, the wind swirling up her dress and making her feel completely, utterly free.

When she reached the stairs she threw him a look over her shoulder as if to say are you coming? and to her satisfaction he was still standing beside the truck staring after her, rooted to the spot.

'Where's Deac?' Vince asked when she got to the couches where the guys were sprawled out.

'Oh, he's just takin' the keys back.' She settled onto the empty couch next to him, trying to look as casual as possible while she pictured Deacon hobbling across the parking lot trying to pull himself together.

He appeared a few minutes later carrying both of their overnight bags, and sure enough he was holding hers very strategically in front of him. He gave her a long look as he dropped the bags and sat down next to her, and she pulled off her boots and curled up on the couch, careful not to flash anyone.

'Get everythin' sorted?' she asked innocently.

'Uh huh.' He shifted on the seat, trying not to smile. 'They said they hoped we'd had a nice ride.'

'Y'all settled in back there?' Barb called, and at the general affirmative she hit the gas.

Kennedy was stretched out on the opposite couch with his feet resting on a disgruntled Jimmy's legs, and someone had put a pot of coffee on; Rayna could hear it spitting in the little kitchen area, and the smell started to drift through the bus. As they pulled out of the lot she looked out and saw the truck, one of the employees opening the door to inspect it for the next customer, and Deacon caught her eye and settled back into the cushions, bouncing his knee to rub it discreetly against her leg.

'Your feet fuckin' stink man,' Jimmy groused, shooing Kennedy away. 'How was the gig, anyway, you two? You gotta tell us all about it.'

Deacon smiled, a dreamy, faraway look on his face. 'It was unbelievable, like somethin' out of a movie - middle of the woods, people dancin' while we were singin', little lights everywhere.' He looked at Rayna. 'It was a perfect night.'

'Except that you missed us,' Kennedy said, pulling off his socks to annoy Jimmy some more, 'right?'

'Like a hole in the head, buddy. Rayna smells a lot better than you idiots do, for a start.'

Kennedy sniggered. 'Oh you've sniffed her feet, have you?'

Rayna, whose feet were tucked under her panty-less ass, pulled a leg free and wiggled her toes at Deacon, who snagged her foot and brought it up to his nose, making her shriek.

'See,' he said, 'fresh. Girl-feet.' He sniffed again. 'Dare I say they smell kinda good, actually. Flowery.'

Rayna dissolved into laughter, pulling her foot back. 'I had a long shower this mornin',' she said for his benefit, and he ducked his face to hide his reaction.

Kennedy shoved a sockless foot into Jimmy's face. 'Do mine. I want feet that smell like flowers.'

'Jesus dude,' Jimmy croaked, batting Kennedy like he was trying to get a wasp off him, 'they smell like fuckin' dead flowers. Like the rotting water at the bottom of a vase.'

Rayna rearranged her dress, trying to calm the tingles coursing through her body from where Deacon had touched her. His breath tickled her shoulder as he laughed at their friends bickering, and she thought she might have to sit on her hands to control them. It felt good to be back on the bus though, as much as she wished their time alone had been longer; something about being around other people made their secret even sweeter.

Vince stretched out on his couch, his feet - thankfully in some old sports socks - hanging over the edge. 'What was the cabin like? Were y'all rollin' around in luxury while we were slummin' it on here?'

'You watch your mouth, this bus ain't no slum!' Barb called, and he cackled.

'Your kingdom is good enough for me, Barb, I sleep like a baby in these bunks.'

'Oh I know you do, I hear you snorin' like a Goddamn bulldozer back there.' She looked at Rayna in her rearview mirror. 'Did they have those fancy robes like at a real nice hotel?'

'They did,' Rayna said, although they hadn't used them, favouring no clothes at all, but she kept that to herself of course. 'Slippers too. It was all so beautiful, even more than I'd imagined it would be. I could live somewhere like that.'

'You could?' Deacon asked, and she nodded, conjuring it up in her mind. He'd feature, naturally: they'd wake up slowly, wrapped in each other, drink coffee together, and write and sing all day on the porch looking out at the trees. They'd make love with the windows thrown open, no one around to see them but birds and the occasional curious squirrel. It overwhelmed her how clearly she could see it all. Deacon looked like he was picturing it too.

'Did y'all get hit on by the old rich ladies Deac?' Jimmy asked.

Rayna laughed. It happened everywhere they went - Deacon was loved by women of all ages, much to his bewilderment, and the guys took every opportunity to rip him for it. She waited for him to answer and when he didn't, she realised he was too busy looking at her, his face soft, still lost in thought about their imaginary cabin life.

Jimmy waved a hand in the air. 'Earth to Claybourne,' he said, amused, and Deacon tore his eyes from Rayna and stared at him blankly.

'Huh?'

'Mighta had too much sauce yourself last night by the looks of it,' Kennedy chimed in. 'Little out of it today Deac?'

He let them run with that assumption and they launched into a rundown of their night, from the owner of the lipstick on Vince's collar - a girl in go-go boots they thought might have been called Brittany - to a now-famous game of darts Barb had won by a country mile.

'I wonder where Brittany is now,' Vince said with a sigh. 'Heartbroken, probably, lyin' in her bed cryin' over this.' He slapped his own ass. 'Just another chick in my wake, but I'll never forget her. She made her mark.'

Jimmy snorted. 'You'll never remember her either.'

'Vinny…' Deacon said, peering at him, 'is that my shirt? With a go-go dancer's lipstick on it?'

'It is, brother, you're spot on.' He pulled up the collar, showing off the stolen flannel unashamedly. 'I ran out of clean shit. I'm wearin' your underwear too. Thanks, by the way.'

'I do not want that underwear back,' Deacon warned. 'Not after your ass has been in there. Jesus, did you have those on last night too?'

'Sure did - Brittany was a big fan.'

For the thousandth time, Rayna wished tour never had to end. She snorted at Deacon's horror, harder when Vince flashed the waistband of the boxers in question and revealed they were one of Deacon's favourite pairs, and delighted in the deep bellow of incredulous laughter Deacon let out. He was so attractive, and she got so flustered looking at him that she lost track of the conversation entirely. Despite everything that had happened between them she still felt like a girl with a huge crush on him wishing he'd kiss her. She couldn't quite believe that he had kissed her, and everything since. To wrap her mind around this man having made love to her was impossible.

'Who wants coffee?' Kennedy asked, dragging himself to his feet.

She caught that. 'Oh my God, yes please,' she said a little too quickly, whipping her head up.

'Y'all didn't get much sleep last night either, huh?'

'Sounds like a night you won't forget,' Vince said with a smile, and Rayna felt like she was chewing marshmallows.

/

It was sometime after a second round of coffee when Deacon felt Rayna's head loll onto his shoulder. Surprised, he looked down to see her eyes flutter closed, and a few seconds later her body relaxed, the slight weight of her resting against him.

It took every bit of restraint he could muster not to put his arms around her and make her comfortable, an urge as natural to him now as breathing, and he sensed eyes on him as he wrestled with it. He looked up to see Jimmy watching them, and he couldn't quite decipher his expression.

'So much for the caffeine hit,' he said, smiling at Rayna's sleepy face.

'Tire her out last night did ya Deac?' Kennedy asked, and before a reaction could register on Deacon's face he saw it on Vince's. 'All those killer riffs,' Kennedy continued, oblivious, 'you two sure do know how to make each other work for it.'

'Somethin' like that,' Deacon said, and his eyes were pulled back to Rayna. His heart swelled, the knowledge that he really was the reason she was so tired sending ripples through him. He pulled a ragged blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it around her as gently as he could in lieu of being able to hold her.

'I'll bet those oldies last night just loved y'all,' Jimmy mused, 'young, country, gorgeous. Y'all are a dream.' He yawned and shook his head like a wet dog. 'You sure you made us coffee and not sleep potion, Kennedy?'

'Ain't my fault you can't handle your hangovers, man.'

Ten minutes later the whole group was asleep. Deacon woke with a stiff neck to find he wasn't quite so careful in his sleep and had pulled Rayna down onto the couch with him; she was tucked into his side, her head on his chest, and her breathing was even and deep. He wasn't sure if they'd gotten so comfortable together while the others were still awake, but he didn't much care - she was making tiny peaceful mewling sounds as she breathed out and that was all that mattered.

In the stillness that was rare when they were all crammed into the small space the bus afforded, he let it settle over him, his new reality. He smoothed a hand up her back feather-lightly, cherishing the weight of her on him like she was the most precious thing in the world.

A lump rose in his throat, his love for her so intense he didn't know what to do with it other than hold her closer. He glanced over at the other couch where his bandmates were sprawled out snoring unevenly, Kennedy's feet back on Jimmy's legs, and risked a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips stay on her soft skin while he gathered himself.

'You really did tire her out last night, huh?'

Vince, on the couch next to him, had woken and was looking at Deacon and Rayna with, Deacon realised with a jolt, pride all over his face. He spoke quietly, but it was clear he'd been bursting to ask about their night at the cabin, and his eagerness made Deacon smile.

'You could say that,' he confessed, close to a whisper.

'You finally did it?' Vince asked, his whole face lighting up. 'You had sex?'

Deacon couldn't help it - he pressed his lips together and nodded, happy as could be to share the news with his best friend. Vince had rooted for them from the start, long before he'd ever voiced that to Deacon, and he'd been waiting for this particular development impatiently ever since Deacon had kissed Rayna the night in Chicago.

'Holy shit!' he hissed, punching the air with as much restraint as he could manage. 'I knew it! I gotta know everythin'!'

Deacon laughed, jostling Rayna a little accidentally and freezing to make sure he hadn't woken her, but she sighed and stilled against him. 'All I'll say is that it was out of this world, Vinny. I ain't got words for it.'

Vince couldn't take it. He threw both hands over his mouth to stop himself making any noise and sat bolt upright.

'You can't not tell me anythin' else, man, this has been a year and a half comin' - I'm too invested, i need a blow by blow account. How'd it happen? Was it in one of those big beds?'

Deacon wanted to talk about every detail, to share it before it drove him crazy, but he also wanted to keep it just for him and Rayna. He'd never say anything too private about her, but it was Vince, and he knew she wouldn't mind him opening up to Vince - she'd expect him to, no less.

He glanced at the other couch again - the others were still asleep. 'It was the biggest bed I ever been in, man, and the nicest - I didn't know sheets came that soft.' He realised he was smiling so hard it was impossible to wipe it off his face, and he didn't want to. He didn't ever want to. No one had ever given him reason to smile the way Rayna did. 'It happened after the gig, we stayed out dancin', had a couple of drinks - it was all so romantic, Vinny, in the woods, all these fireflies everywhere, old crooner country songs. Rayna was in this pretty dress - she took my breath away like you wouldn't believe, you shoulda seen her.' He shook his head, still stunned. 'We went back to her room after and… it was just time, you know? It just felt right.'

Vince looked like he was having trouble sitting still. 'Deac you're killin' me. That's some sweet-ass shit, I'm gettin' all teary here.' His eyes fell to Rayna, so content and safe on Deacon's chest, and he really did look a little choked up. 'How's she doin' today? It's a big deal, first time and all. Especially with the build-up you've had, damn.'

Deacon brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered; she looked more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. 'She's good, real good. She was amazin'.' He traced her cheekbone, her skin smooth under his thumb. 'I can't believe she's real,' he whispered. 'I keep thinkin' I'm gonna open my eyes one day and I'll have dreamed her.'

'Nah buddy, she's real. And this,' Vince gestured at them, 'this too. The real deal. You gone and found yourself some true love, Deacon my man.'

He cleared his throat, swept up in the beauty of it, and Deacon wanted to hug him. He felt so damn lucky to have this perfect girl he loved deeply and a best friend who cared so much about them both. Deacon never thought he'd find either in his life, and yet here he was, holding one in his arms and grinning at the other.

'So,' Vince said, 'how many times d'you make her come?'

'Vinny!'

Rayna stretched her legs out and made a muffled noise before Vince could say anything else, and Deacon trailed his fingers up and down her arm as she roused. A slow smile spread across her face when she saw him, and his heart jumped.

'Oh,' she said softly as she realised she'd been asleep, and the subsequent realisation of where they were must have hit her.

'It's okay,' he said, kissing her forehead again as she tensed, 'everybody's asleep. Everybody except Vin, anyway.'

She lifted her head and looked at Vince, who gave her a wink. 'Havin' some sweet dreams there, doll?'

'Mmm,' she sighed, and then shuffled upright, sitting between them with the blanket crumpled around her.

Deacon sat up too and she stayed closer to him than she would have if the others had been awake, blinking in the bright light filling the bus, still adjusting after being in a deep sleep. He took her hand and kissed it, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

She glanced shyly at Vince, who looked like he was trying not to jump on them both like an excited puppy. 'I'm a big fan of this,' he said, pointing between them, and she relaxed visibly.

He'd caught them together before, back in one of Deacon and Vince's hotel rooms, but this was different - last night was a whole new level and Deacon could tell Rayna was feeling a little unsure how he might respond. He wondered if she knew that Vince had been aware this whole time how serious it was, that it was never just a fling, but if she still had any lingering doubts, Vince's shit-eating grin had to have dispelled them.

'Y'all two make my ass feel funny when I look at you,' he said, 'I ain't seen people this in love before.'

'Only you could make somethin' about your ass quite so poetic,' Rayna said, but she looked a little teary herself and Deacon put his arm around her, needing her closer.

'My ass is poetic, doll.' Vince sat up, reading Deacon's ever-growing desire to kiss Rayna, and set his socked feet on the floor. 'I'm gonna make you lovers some of Vinny's hair-of-the-dog potion, we gotta toast to these heady days.'

He cracked his neck to the side and stood, squeezing around the table in the middle of the couches and tip-toeing to the kitchen. They could hear him trying his best not to clatter around but Deacon, not wanting to waste any time in case he woke the others, took Rayna's face in his hands and kissed her sweetly, struggling to pull himself away.

'How are you feelin', baby?' he asked, nuzzling her nose.

'Good,' she murmured, sounding a little woozy, because of him or her nap or both.

'Did you sleep okay? You were pretty exhausted, huh?'

'Just a little,' she told him with a twinkle in her eyes. 'I could have slept all night. I'd rather be awake though, to do this…'

She moved to his lips again and this time the kiss was searing, deepening to something neither of them would be able to control if it went much further.

Deacon took a deep breath, resting his head against her forehead and trying to get his heartbeat to slow down. 'I'd rather you be awake too, to do that…'

Kennedy let out a noise somewhere between a snort and a snore, and Rayna dipped her face into Deacon's neck, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

'And they say romance is dead,' he quipped, making her laugh harder.

The mirth disappeared when she lifted her head and stroked his face with a warm palm. 'They've never met you,' she said.

She was so beautiful it hurt him, in the strangest, most welcome way, and he lost himself in kissing her until the sound of footsteps brought him back to his surroundings.

'Sorry,' Vince mouthed, setting three drinks down on the table and waving at them both to carry on. 'Don't mind me, pretend like I ain't even here.'

'Are those margaritas?' Rayna asked, extracting herself from Deacon and settling cross-legged next to him. He shifted and felt her underwear in his pocket, and tried not to notice her patting her dress down to make sure she retained her modesty.

'Sure are. A celebration like this calls for girl-drinks.' At Deacon's look Vince shrugged. 'They taste better, we all know it.' He handed one to each of them and picked the remaining glass up. Holding it out to them, he puffed up his chest and said, 'To young love. And to the killer songs y'all are gonna write about it.'

They clinked their glasses, and to no one's surprise Kennedy and Jimmy woke immediately, the sound of people drinking alcohol like a bat signal.

'What are we toastin'?' Jimmy asked, blinking like a mole who'd emerged from the ground, down to party whatever the occasion. Vince sniggered all the way back to the kitchen to get extra glasses.

'To the tour,' he declared when he returned, and they all lifted their drinks.

'To the tour,' Deacon repeated, holding Rayna's gaze.

/

The halfway point between Montana and Missouri was a small town on the north-western tip of Nebraska, where the tour had scheduled a stop for the night. It was the biggest distance they'd covered between shows and too far to drive in one go, so they'd be sleeping on their buses at a truck stop, a new experience for Rayna and her bandmates.

Theirs was the second-to-last bus to pull up, and they arrived to a sea of musicians ripe with the kind of restless energy you got from sitting still for too long, jittery and excitable, a lot of bouncing legs and stretching. It reminded Rayna of school field trips she'd been on, where all the kids gathered together in groups chatting while they waited for the teachers to tell them what to do.

She walked down the steps into the cool evening, grateful to be outside. The truck stop was set back off a quiet stretch of highway, surrounded on all other sides by trees, and only a couple of semis were parked up. A dimly-lit convenience store and a fast food restaurant with smeared windows were dotted in the middle of the lot, and a sign reading Casino with the a and the o bulbs out hung above what looked like an outhouse. There was a building that could be a bar, or might have been at some point, but Rayna couldn't be sure - a metal Budweiser sign creaked in the breeze beside a closed iron door, but it was so rusted it could have been junk left to rot at the hands of the elements rather than an invitation to come in and order a cold beer.

'Cute place,' Deacon said, stepping onto the tarmac next to her. 'Really got some charm.'

It was quite a different setting to the hotels they'd been staying in, but it felt like an adventure, a new part of tour life they hadn't experienced yet. 'Wanna go play on some slots?' she asked, pointing at the casino, and he gave her a suggestive eyebrow lift in answer.

'What in the slasher horror movie is this place?' Vince said, jumping down the last two steps. 'Somebody with an axe is gonna come lurching outta those trees once we all get in bed tonight.' He pulled a bent cigarette out of his jeans and flicked open a lighter with I Love Boobs emblazoned on it in neon pink, a souvenir from one of the gas stations they'd stopped at several shows ago.

Rayna laughed. 'Barb'll chase 'em off.' She rubbed her arms, not sure whether it was the evening chill or Vince's imagination giving her goosebumps. 'I'm gonna go use a bathroom that isn't on wheels.'

'Want some company?' Deacon asked, but she shook her head, giving him a warm smile.

'I'll be okay,' she said, feeling the need to do a little processing, and she knew he got it.

She hadn't spent a moment alone since before their cabin gig, and so much had happened in the past twenty-four hours - she wanted to catch her breath and soak it all in. She waved at her group and skirted the throngs of crew and band members, finding the bathroom block around the far side of the convenience store. It was run-down like the rest of the place, and the bus bathroom was definitely a safer bet to pee in without catching something, but she gingerly eased the door open and slipped in anyway. The stalls were self-contained rooms at least, with a sink and a mirror in one corner and some scratchy toilet paper stacked in another, the smell of bleach and mildew pungent in the air.

Rayna stood in front of the mirror and looked at her face. Her cheeks were pink from being on the hot bus for so long, her skin a little irritated from Deacon's stubble thanks to the copious amounts of kissing they'd been doing, and her hair could do with a brush, but she looked happy. Really happy. Her eyes were bright and calm, and she smiled, unable not to.

The last time she'd looked in a mirror she'd been a virgin, on the verge of handing that status to Deacon to dismantle, with no idea what to expect but implicit trust in him. She looked, to her own eyes, like a new person, though nothing was physically different about her appearance. Instantly the thought of Tandy came to mind and she felt tears pool, surprising her; her sister would just know, she was sure, and she wanted so badly for her to appear at the door so she could tell her everything. Sharing this new part of life with Deacon was incredible, but she wanted to pour her heart out to Tandy too, to tell her all that she was feeling and make sense of it.

She checked her watch - it was too late to call, Tandy went to bed every night at 10pm on the dot, and it was already half past. She rubbed her face and ran her fingers through her hair, and leaned in closer to check out some teeth marks on her collarbone - Deacon loved to nibble on that spot.

The girls from the diner. It was a Sunday night, they'd both be on the graveyard shift - it hit her like a lightbulb flicking on, and she left the bathroom without using it, levering the door open with her foot in an attempt not to touch it too much. They'd been clamouring for an update the last time she'd called them, and she knew she'd be giving them something to gossip about for the rest of the night while the same handful of customers came in and ordered the same things.

She found a payphone on the other side of the store, right next to a vending machine with a flickering bulb and two solitary cans of Diet Coke in it. She pulled a couple of quarters out of her purse and dialled the familiar number, hoping they'd pick up.

A few rings later and Annabelle's voice greeted her, her polite-but-over-it customer service lilt in full effect.

'Hey Anna, it's me!' she said, and Annabelle's tone changed in an instant, the answering shriek telling her there was no need to clarify who me was.

'Katie, get over here, it's our girl!' she yelled, a hand muffling the line for a brief moment before more high-pitched greetings rang in Rayna's ears. She laughed, holding the receiver away so they didn't deafen her.

'Sweet girl!' Katie said. 'It's so good to hear from you! How is our starlett? We miss you!'

'I'm great,' Rayna told them, 'I miss you guys too though - I wish y'all were here so bad. What have I missed?'

'Not a single thing, baby, it's the same old around here,' Annabelle replied, and Rayna just knew she was rolling her eyes at the boredom. 'Your life is much more excitin' - we've been waitin' on pins for you to call! It's all we been able to talk about.'

'I'm sorry I haven't done sooner. It's been crazy out here, we barely stop.'

Annabelle clucked at her. 'Between singin' to thousands of people and bein' busy with Deacon Claybourne's cute ass, there ain't even a little bit we can blame you.'

'Has it happened yet?' Katie asked, cutting straight to the chase. 'We gotta know!'

Rayna's cheeks hurt and she twirled the cord around her finger. 'Has what happened?' she asked, playing with them.

Annabelle gave a loud snort. 'Put us out of our misery here, baby! You got us hooked like we're waitin' for the next episode of a damn telenovela!'

'It's happened,' she said, grinning, still unable to believe it herself.

There was a rush of noise down the phone, too garbled and excited for her to make any words out, until Katie wrestled her way to the receiver. 'Oh Rayna! Tell us everythin'! How was it? How did it happen? And when?'

She felt giddy, elated to share it with them. She knew they'd be huddling out of earshot, coffee refill duties abandoned without a second thought. 'It was last night,' she said, hugging herself, and it all tumbled out in a rush. 'We went over to Montana to play a private show at a cabin in the forest, just Deacon and me. It was so incredible, I wish you could've seen it. We sang all these pretty songs and had such fun, and they'd given us rooms so we could stay there, so after the show we danced and drank champagne with them, and then... We didn't even talk about it, it had just felt inevitable the whole night, you know? It's like we knew it would be the night it happened and everythin' was just buildin' up to it.' She sighed, so amazed by it all she didn't know what to do with herself. 'It wasn't scary at all, you were right. It was beautiful, and Deacon... he was so wonderful.'

The line crackled and one of the girls - they'd devolved into indistinguishable exclamations so she wasn't sure which - made a noise like a strangled sob.

'A cabin in the forest,' Katie gushed, 'that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard!'

'That is so Deacon,' Annabelle said, sounding dreamy, 'that boy is the last true cowboy, I swear it. I just knew he'd make it special for you, sweet girl. Oh my, this is makin' my heart just sing.' She lowered her voice. 'Was he gentle with you? I just know he was.'

Rayna almost cried, the feel of Deacon's reverent hands still imprinted on her body. 'He was perfect,' she said, trying to stop her voice from wobbling, and Katie squeaked. 'He took such good care of me, I can't even tell you. I felt so safe, every single moment of it all.'

'How are you feelin' now?' Katie asked breathlessly, sounding like she was trying not to cry herself.

'Like everythin' is exactly the way it's supposed to be.' She wiggled her toes in her boots. 'And like I could sleep for a week.'

Annabelle gave a dirty laugh, her signature. 'He took care of you in more ways than one, by the sounds of it - you must be sore today.' There was a scuffle and she heard Annabelle's voice directed across the room. 'Not now, Nigel, we got an important call goin' on here - you'll get your fries when Earl cooks 'em up outta the freezer. Go on back out there and sit yourself down.'

Rayna laughed, wondering how much Nigel, one of their regulars, had heard, but she knew he wouldn't have a clue what they were talking about anyway. 'Y'all are gonna get an ear-bashin' from Earl for bein' on the phone too long,' she said. 'I'll call you again soon, okay?'

'Hold up there baby,' Annabelle said, 'I gotta ask you an important question before you disappear - somethin' to keep us goin' 'til next time…'

'What's that?'

She paused for dramatic effect, and in a low voice asked, 'Did he make you come?'

'Anna!' Katie gasped. There was a giggle and then a pause. 'Did he though?'

Rayna lost any composure she was hanging onto and covered her face with her hand, laughing freely. 'Ohh, he did,' she told them, feeling daring, '...more than once.'

The high-pitched squeals down the line were so loud that they must have alerted Earl, who called something about cheques in the background and was met with a chorus of disapproval from the girls for spoiling their fun.

'We are not finished with this conversation,' Annabelle said. 'I got a whole lot more questions for you just as soon as you can tear yourself away from that gifted man and call us again, Miss Rayna.'

/

They ate burgers on the sidewalk outside the fast food place, Rayna and Deacon and their friends, a pile of napkins next to Barb to catch ketchup blobs and clean up greasy fingers. The tour was a big one, too many people to fit into one small cafe, so they spread out, taking over the majority of the truck stop.

They'd been given instructions to head back to the buses after they'd eaten, Randy's manager Beau wanting to gather everyone together before they disappeared to sample the delights of the local area.

'Tour meetin' after dinner,' he'd said, striding - as he always seemed to be doing - across the lot, signalling to people around to listen up. 'We got somethin' excitin' to share with y'all.'

Deacon's fries were covered in melted cheese and spices, altogether more interesting than the plain ones Rayna had ordered, and she swiped one when he went to dip his fingers into the basket, grinning at him when he gasped at her.

'You always want my fries,' he said in a low voice, stuffing two in his mouth. 'I got good taste in fries.'

'Better than your taste in dips,' she teased, reaching up to wipe a blob from the corner of his mouth with her napkin. 'I can't believe you ruin them with mustard.'

Deacon laughed silently, the kind of laugh that made his eyes shiny and his shoulders bounce, and she nibbled on her stolen fry, the cheese salty on her tongue.

'What do y'all think Beau wants to talk about?' Kennedy asked, pulling a pickle out of his burger and licking it.

Vince, eyeing Kennedy and his pickle dubiously, shrugged. 'Bet it's a guest star comin' to join Randy one night. You know how they do that sometimes? Maybe at the home show back in Nashville.'

'I can't believe we wrap in a couple of weeks, there ain't a bone in my body that wants to,' Jimmy said.

'I could do this forever,' Deacon agreed. 'I can't even think about gettin' off the road. This is who we are now.' He gently nudged Rayna's shoulder, and she leaned against it for a second.

'When we get back to Nashville Barb, can we just keep drivin'?' she asked, and she wasn't entirely joking. The dark cloud that was Lamar, who seemed a million miles away, sniffed around the edges of her tour bubble, and any other day maybe his claws would have sunk into it a little, but it was no other day. The joy she felt was too strong for Lamar, or anyone else, to get near.

'Happily, sweetcheeks. With the exception of these four,' Barb jerked her head at the guys, 'you're my favourite band I've ever driven.'

'Hey now!' Kennedy protested, and the half-eaten pickle fell out of his mouth and slopped onto the floor.

Barb demolished the rest of her burger in one bite. 'I'm just kiddin',' she said, chewing loudly and slapping Vince, who was sitting closest, on the back. '...Claybourne ain't so bad.'

Vince coughed, his food lodging in his throat with the force of Barb's hand. 'You love us really, we know it,' he croaked.

'You might just be right about that, Bulldozer. I ain't gonna admit it to your faces, though.' She rubbed her burger-stained hands on her cargo pants. They were roomy and stopped just above her calves, and told the stories of countless fast food encounters gone by, a faded ketchup smear here, an oil blob there. 'We still got two weeks left on this crazy train - y'all make the most of it.'

Rayna brought her knees up, her thigh grazing Deacon's. He felt solid next to her, chewing on his food deep in thought. She fully intended to make the most of the time they had left out with Randy - every moment of it.

'We got a whole night off ahead of us,' Vince said, looking around at each of them. 'Let's make it one for the books.'

Rayna picked up a chicken finger, dipped it in a plastic pot of ranch and lifted it towards her mouth, but as she was contemplating if it needed a second dip, Deacon swooped in and took a big bite.

'Hey!' she laughed, swatting him away, and he grabbed her wrist and ate the rest of it right out of her fingers.

'S'pretty good,' he said, crunching it happily while she shook her head at him. 'Not enough mustard.'

'You better watch yourself Rayna,' Jimmy mused, 'he'll eat your fingers if there's enough dip on 'em.'

/

The chatter as the whole tour gathered beside the buses was like a hum of bees, and Beau appeared in the midst of them and clapped his hands together.

'Listen up y'all!' he called, climbing up the first few steps of Randy's bus so everyone could see him. 'We've got an announcement, and I think it's gonna make everybody here pretty damn happy.'

Randy was a couple of steps down from him, wearing a t-shirt with the tour artwork on, and Rayna looked at him, still starstruck - she didn't think she would ever not be, he was a legend. She mentally pinched herself that she was somehow lucky enough to have landed the support gig on his tour; it felt no more real than it did the first day.

'We've sold out every single night of this tour, and it's been one of my favourites yet,' Randy said. 'You all are knockin' it out of the park every night, everyone on stage and everyone off it makin' all of this possible.' He let his gratitude sink in for a second to a patter of mutual appreciation. 'Now we only got a few more shows lined up, and I don't know about y'all, but I ain't quite ready to hang up my boots and go home just yet.'

The patter turned to a ripple and Rayna looked at Deacon and the others, unsure what was coming. All she knew was she certainly didn't want to go home yet either.

Randy laughed, pleased. 'So we got a question for y'all - how about we add on some more shows and keep this thing goin' a little longer?'

The ripple became a roar, an undeniably positive one. 'Well that is good to hear,' Beau said, holding his hands up to calm the noise after a moment. 'We've got the go ahead to add another ten dates and extend by two weeks. We can put them on sale tomorrow and the label is completely confident we'll sell out no problem.'

Rayna was speechless, and the rest of what he said was a blur, something about them making arrangements for anyone who wasn't able to stay on, and they'd confirm soon which cities they'd be travelling to for the new shows. She turned to Deacon, who was ecstatic, and all she could do was laugh in sheer jubilation as he picked her up and spun her around.

'Well shit!' she heard Vince exclaim, and when Deacon set her back on her feet she was swept up in a mass-hug with the rest of the band. All around them people were hooting and celebrating, and Randy got in on the action, moving through the crowd and congratulating everyone on their shared success.

'I think the verdict is in,' he said, climbing up onto a road case and tossing his hat in the air. 'So let's go drink to this, y'all!'

/

'It ain't just a bar,' someone said, 'it's a karaoke bar. Look at the sign behind the bartender.'

The dilapidated building with the rusty sign turned out to indeed be a bar, and other than smelling like stale beer and, for some reason, sprouts, it was relatively intact on the inside. The stools were wobbly and the booth seats had foam oozing out of multiple rips, and the one bartender was at least ninety with a long white beard and a cross tattooed on his neck. Rock music was playing in earnest but, sure enough, a faded poster on the wall read Karaoke every nite - you sing, we pour.

The tour took over the whole bar, the excitement about their good news dominating the space, and it took only minutes for someone to get up and kick off the karaoke. As the music changed abruptly from rock to country, Rayna balanced on the arm of a ragged old couch, her boot-clad feet swinging over the edge, trying unsuccessfully to tear her eyes from Deacon who squeezed into the sliver of space next to her.

Vince and Jimmy took one for the team and braved the clamour at the bar to get the drinks in, and returned with double whiskey on the rocks all round. A breeze drifted in from the door that had thankfully been propped open and Rayna swirled the rapidly melting ice around in her glass and lifted it to her forehead. A whole extra two weeks of the tour. It felt like a dream, all of it; surely she'd fallen asleep back in Nashville, a long shift at the diner wearing her out so much that her bones had sunk into the mattress and she'd drifted so deeply into slumber it was impossible to tell a dream from reality.

But it was real. She knew it was when she caught the smile Deacon directed at her; the happiness on his beautiful face was more than even her wild imagination could come up with. She smiled back at him, Randy's back-up singers belting out some Patsy Cline on a small ramshackle stage, filling up her heart; she couldn't help but sing along and Deacon joined in, lifting his glass to hers.

'What a ride,' Jimmy said. 'What a crazy, crazy ride.'

'I ain't never been so keen to call my boss,' Kennedy added. 'The only time workin' bar shifts has paid off, he was still there at this hour.'

'How'd he take it?' Rayna asked.

'He sure wasn't jumpin' for the ceilin', but he don't got a say, does he? When it comes to music over a shitty job, there ain't no competition.' He took a swig of his drink. 'Told him I'll take him a signed Randy record back and he soon shut the hell up, anyway.'

She made a mental note to sort one of those out for Earl too. He'd sounded entirely unsurprised on the phone when she'd called him, almost like he'd expected it. He was a big fan of Randy Travis so he hadn't minded her leaving to head out on his tour - it was commonplace for so many employers in Nashville, most of the town was made up of budding musicians who had to haul out at a moment's notice, but he'd been sure to tell her eggs didn't scramble themselves, just in the event she might forget. She looked around at the room full to bursting with people living their dreams, and the thought of wiping tables seemed like someone else's life.

'You won't be able to go back now, you know,' Annie, Rayna's favourite person on the tour outside of her own band and Barb, said, accurately reading her thoughts. Rayna looked at her, cross-legged on the adjacent chair. 'You might go back physically, to your old jobs, your old lives, but your heart belongs to the road now, to all of this.'

Annie was one of the most assured people she'd ever met, knowing and confident without any trace of arrogance. She knew everything there was to know about touring and road life, every piece of sound equipment, where to find something obscure no one else had heard of. She knew the most unusual hole-in-the-wall places to eat in every city they visited, was a whizz on an electric guitar, and could drink any guy under the table and walk in a straight line all the way to her room afterwards. Rayna liked her a lot.

'Think we can persuade Randy to just keep extending, and then we never have to go back?' she said, and Annie laughed.

She looked like a biker Tinkerbell, Rayna thought, slight and willowy with a bleach-blonde pixie cut, always in ripped denim and beat-up boots. Her laugh sounded like a windchime, but she was far too grounded for such a whimsical comparison.

'You're playin' your cards hella right, Rayna,' she said, and shot a straight tequila without flinching. 'I've been payin' attention - always do with the special ones. Keep it up and all of this will be for you.'

Rayna dipped her head, something about the compliment, or maybe that it came from someone she had so much admiration for, making her bashful. 'I sure as hell want this.'

She did; it was in her blood, the need for this. She wanted her name above the door so bad it made her toes curl. Annie was looking at her intently, watching it play out on her face.

'Whatever you're doin',' she said, and whether she meant them to or not, her eyes slid towards Deacon before they came back to Rayna, 'it works. Keep doin' it.'

Rayna's mouth felt dry. She'd keep doing it, alright.

'Want another one?' Deacon asked, pointing at her glass, and she drained it quickly.

'I'll come with you.'

'You need toppin' up Annie?' He liked her too, Rayna knew - she was hard not to like.

She reached into the pocket of her faded jeans and pulled out a dull silver hipflask. Whatever liquid was in it sloshed against the metal when she shook it and she winked at him. 'I'm all set. Thanks, Deac.'

Rayna and Deacon navigated their way to the bar, and while they waited for their drinks he put his hand discreetly on her back, sending her body into a tailspin. In the crowded room she could get away with standing closer to him than she'd be able to otherwise, and she found herself almost salivating at how good he smelled, the musk of him after being sat on the bus all afternoon. She wanted to peel off his t-shirt and wrap her body around him until she smelled of him too.

'You happy, baby?' he asked, his face close to her ear, and she felt the gravel of his voice vibrate through her.

'Yeah,' she told him, smiling uncontrollably, and for a moment she was absolutely sure he was going to kiss her. She could see him fighting the urge, and she didn't want him to - she wanted to taste him. 'Really happy,' she said, captivated by the way his tongue peeped out to lick his bottom lip.

Deacon shook himself back to earth and Rayna looked away from him, trying to calm herself down. Happy wasn't anywhere close to a strong enough word.

'I can't believe all this luck,' he said. 'This past twenty-four hours, this past couple of months.' He brushed her hand, idling there for a moment. 'And now the tour gettin' extended so we get to keep doin' all this - the music, the road, this lifestyle. I get to spend every moment of every day with you - there ain't no one luckier on this whole planet than this sonofabitch.'

He jabbed his thumb at his chest and Rayna leaned against the sticky bar. It felt like she was walking on a cloud. 'I'd go head to head with you to battle for that status.'

'Oh you would, would you?' Deacon teased, getting closer still.

The bartender, who surely was an homage to Willie Nelson, slid their drinks towards them, interrupting the moment, and they thanked him and took a fraction of a step back from each other. Deacon pulled some dollar bills out of his pocket and dropped them onto the counter, and took a long pull of his Bud.

'I was startin' to get real sad,' he confessed, and Rayna waited for him to go on. 'The thought of goin' back home in a couple of weeks, back to workin' at the garage, at the bar.' He nursed the bottle, swirling the liquid around and watching it through the narrow mouth. 'Havin' to be apart from you for all those hours, I don't know how to do that now, Ray. I miss you even when you're sittin' right next to me - I know that sounds crazy, but I can't help it.'

She wanted with everything in her to reach up and put her arms around him. 'It doesn't sound crazy. Or if it does then I'm crazy too, because I can't bear the thought of havin' to spend time away from you. I want it to be like this forever.'

'Me too, baby,' he said, and leaned in to speak into her ear. 'I wanna make music with you every day and make love to you every night. This is what's real - nothin' else matters.'

Rayna shivered, her body responding faster than her brain could.

Vince's dulcet tones caught their attention, and they turned around to see him up on the karaoke stage, a microphone in his hand.

'Oh damn,' Deacon said, and cupped his hands around his mouth to heckle. 'Do Dolly Parton!' he yelled, and Vince tapped the mic.

'Alright y'all, I think my man Deac is right - it's time we got some Dolly on up in here, don't y'all agree?' There was a chorus of approval from the enthusiastic crowd, who all loved Vince, and he gyrated his hips in a circle, lapping it up. 'I can't do this one justice by myself though - Barb, would you get on up here with me?'

From the bar they could see their friends drag Barb, who was shaking her head and giving Vince a murderous look, to her feet. She'd had just enough drinks to humour him though and she let herself be chivvied up onto the stage.

'If you insist on doin' the one you play on the bus every damn day and night, I ain't singin',' she said into the mic he shoved into her hand. The words had no sooner left her mouth than the opening notes to Why'd You Come In Here Lookin' Like That started up, the very same song Vince played on repeat during long journeys, and she swiped for him, missing him when he ducked.

'The one and only Barb, ladies and gentledudes,' he said, and thunderous whooping broke out.

Rayna and Deacon hurried back to their friends, who were cheering loudly for Vince and Barb, and Annie scooted up to make room for them to sit back down. A few of the other roadies had joined them and fitting onto the couch was a tighter squeeze; Rayna found herself pressed up against Deacon, who looked thrilled with the situation even flattened against the arm of the couch.

'What a night,' she marvelled, laughing so hard tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes, and joining in with the chorus of the song.

Vince and Barb were a double act that would be hard to follow, and when they took their bows, Vince holding Barb's hand aloft and motioning for her to curtsy, Rayna jumped to her feet and gave them a standing ovation along with the rest of the bar.

'I'm gonna get you back for that,' Barb warned when they got back to the couch, 'you better watch your back, Jameson. I might look like a kitten but I am a tiger, son.'

She was playing though, and one of the roadies handed her a fresh drink for each hand. 'Sent over by your fans,' he said, and Rayna could almost swear Barb blushed.

Deacon got up and climbed onto the low table in front of the couch. 'I think it's high time we toasted to you, Barb - I don't think a single one of us would know what the hell we're doin' out here if it wasn't for you. To the best Dolly Parton this side of wherever the hell we are, the best tour bus driver, and the best ass-whooper this bunch of degenerates,' he paused and winked at Rayna who swooned, too buzzed out on the alcohol to hide it, 'and Ray, who most certainly ain't a degenerate, coulda hoped for.'

The whole group and everyone in earshot raised their glasses in a toast to Barb, who scowled and waved her clammy hands at them all to quell the fuss, but there was a hint of a smile on her face and she couldn't look at any of them, a dead giveaway that she was secretly pleased as could be.

'Who's up next?' Annie asked, her eyes settling on Rayna and Deacon.

'Oh no,' Rayna protested, 'we can't, I mean…'

'Sure you can.' Annie smiled. 'I watch you sing in front of thousands of people every night like you've been doin' this for years.'

'Y'all are my ones to watch this tour,' one of the crew, a guy who did something in sound tech, said. 'This support gig is the birth of somethin' real big, I ain't been wrong before and I ain't wrong now. I'd pay money to watch the two of you get up on that stage.'

'That's really sweet of you to say, Keith,' Rayna said, not sure why she felt so apprehensive at the thought of it. She sang with Deacon every night, but everyone else was up there with them, and last night had been different, a group of strangers they didn't have to hide anything from. Singing together in front of everyone on the tour… that felt different.

'Come on y'all, give us a little taste of your solo gig!' Kennedy said, starting off a slow clap that spread around the rest of the group.

'I'm game if you are,' Deacon said, surprising her. She twisted to look at him, only a few inches from his face. The clapping sped up.

Screw it, Rayna thought - if ever there was a night for karaoke, it was tonight. 'Alright alright. Let's do it.'

They waited for a gaggle of the crew to finish a rendition of On The Road Again, and as the last notes rang out Deacon jumped up from the couch, pulling Rayna with him. She followed towards the stage, with a little more coaxing to get her onto it, and he adjusted a mic stand for them to share. Only as she stepped up to it did she realise she hadn't got a clue what they were going to sing.

Deacon, on the other hand, had thought it through.

'We're gonna slow it down for a minute,' he said into the mic. 'Y'all got enough room out there for some slow dancin'?'

It was usually Rayna doing the talking when they were up on stage, and she loved to see Deacon take charge. She'd seen some of his solo gigs and a couple of the shows he'd played with his band before her, with Vince and some other friends. He was lead singer as well as lead guitar, and the crush she'd been really trying not to feed at the time had expanded beyond all control watching him turn up the charm for the audience. She saw it now, the charisma and the quiet confidence he had - it was sexy as all hell.

'Meet Me In Montana,' he said, leaning away from the mic and speaking just to her, smiling when it dawned on her why he'd chosen that particular song. 'You know the lyrics, right?'

She did - it was another frequently played song on their bus, Dan Seals and Marie Osmond, one they'd been listening to long before Montana had become at all significant to them. A flurry of nerves shot through her and she tried to swallow them down, and cleared her throat.

'We got this,' Deacon told her, and signalled to the guy in charge of the music.

The song started up and she took a step closer to Deacon, and tried to remember who sang first. He did, and the second she locked eyes with him, her nerves disappeared as though they hadn't been there at all. She half-registered the chatter in the bar dying down and felt eyes on them, but it didn't matter; she listened to him sing in his honeyed rumble and with every word the room around them faded away.

Wrote my whole life down in an old book,

Songs about you and me.

Been singing to every soul in Tennessee.

Nobody seems to listen,

No one ever smiles the way that you do.

Rayna found her breath and joined in, leaning into the microphone and blending her voice with Deacon's, the same magic she felt every single time they sang together infusing every note.

Won't you meet me in Montana.

I want to see the mountains in your eyes.

I had all of this life I can handle.

Meet me underneath that big Montana sky.

They didn't look away from each other for a second as they sang, and Rayna was sure it had to be obvious they'd had sex. It was impossible to hold the chemistry between them back on stage though; their flirtation and the depth of their connection was just as much part of the music as the words and the melodies.

When they finished the song Rayna felt breathless for a moment, still staring into Deacon's eyes, until rowdy applause pulled her attention away, and she looked out into a sea of their friends, crew, roadies and musicians alike, all clapping and cheering for them. It felt good, and she gave them a little wave.

Deacon couldn't stop smiling, and he put his arm around her, pulling her into his body for a moment and speaking into the microphone, thanking everyone. They walked off the stage together and as they reached the couch and were swallowed up in pats on the back from their friends, Randy's wardrobe assistant took to the stage ready to sing next.

'How's a girl supposed to follow that?' she said in her sweet Louisiana accent, pulling the mic off the stand and gesturing towards them. 'I think we've found our next Johnny and June, y'all.'

/

It was around midnight when someone suggested a change of venue. A veteran's club in the one-street town nearby, if it could be called a town at all. Annie and a few of the others had had a layover at this truck stop before and by all accounts, the club was pretty fun, if you didn't mind plastic chairs and ukuleles.

Rayna didn't mind either. As she walked down a narrow road behind the truck stop with a smaller breakaway group made up of her bandmates and some of the crew, she couldn't help thinking about the country club back in Nashville. Her father was a regular fixture there, and growing up she and Tandy had been too, no choice in the matter. She'd hated it - it was stuffy and full of people who talked all business and no pleasure. She'd find herself sat on a plush velvet chair the colour of vomit, some lady wearing pearls and too much perfume questioning her about her future life choices: where she'd go to college, as though she'd know the answer to that at thirteen years old, what kind of nice young man she'd find herself and what profession he'd have. She wished they could see her now, all of them, with Deacon by her side, making music, not a single thought about college or any of the other status crap they cared so much about. They'd choke on their hors d'oeuvres.

As far as Rayna was concerned, if the chairs were plastic and the music was country, she'd traded up big time.

They emerged from the tree-lined, completely deserted road into another parking lot, and on the other side of it was the town. Annie was right - it was a handful of buildings on one short street, the usual suspects: a butcher, a bakery, a grocery store, all closed except for one. American Legion #12, a single lit window next to the entrance to signal that there was fun to be had inside.

'Think there might be any hot chicks in there?' Vince said, sidling up beside Rayna.

There were, it turned out, plenty. They were all over the age of eighty, but the older population of Chadron, Nebraska sure were into having a good time.

Deacon stuffed some dollars into a plastic jar at the front desk to cover his and Rayna's entry, and while they waited for everyone else to get their wrists stamped with a little red star that meant they could come and go, they ventured around a corner into a long corridor illuminated by strip lights. Through a half-open door at the end they saw movement - dancing, maybe - and could faintly hear a band playing a lively tune.

'What are we walkin' into here?' Vince said, leaning over Rayna and Deacon to see what they were looking at.

What they walked into was something that could have been a movie set. It looked like a gym hall dressed for a special occasion. There were round tables draped in paper tablecloths filling half the room, people sitting around each, men dressed in suits with striped ties, some in pristine shirts with the cuffs rolled up, women wearing tea dresses and twinsets. Not the kind of twinsets Rayna had seen at the country club - these were war-era, woollen, in blues and jade greens.

The other half of the room was clear of tables and acted as a dancefloor, and people were circling around it to an old-timey song the band, on a raised stage at the front, were playing. Five elderly men with suspenders and chequered pants played fiddles and - as promised - ukuleles, one tall and spindly and half-hidden behind a double bass in the corner.

They were the youngest people there, by a good few decades, and heads turned to look at them as they walked in, the obvious strangers.

'Come on and sit yourselves down!' said a woman with a blue rinse, waving them inside and motioning at a couple of empty tables. 'All are welcome here.'

'Quite a place,' Deacon said, putting his hand on Rayna's back and leading her to one of the tables, sliding into the chair next to the one she chose.

He draped an arm over the back of her chair to get closer to her; they were getting less careful the more the night went on, every drink and every song erasing a few more centimetres they would otherwise put between themselves, and something about the dim lighting of the dance hall and the new, unusual surroundings was gnawing on their last bit of restraint.

A man with a service medal pinned to his shirt ambled over to take their drinks orders and returned a few minutes later pushing a silver cart, bottles and glasses rattling as he wound through the other tables.

'This is how the vets party, huh?' Vince said, thanking the man and taking a sip of his bourbon.

'It sure is a different scene to the karaoke bar,' Annie remarked.

Deacon looked around, soaking up every detail. 'I like it,' he said, drumming his fingers on the table in time with the music.

It took all of five minutes for Vince to get up, unable to keep still while people were having so much fun. He tried unsuccessfully to get Jimmy up with him but settled for giving them all a solo show, shaking his butt on the dancefloor as he tried to pick up the steps.

'If he lands himself a sugar-momma we're leavin' him here,' Deacon said, laughing heartily as two old ladies took his arms and started to teach him how to swing dance. He looked back at their table and gave them a thumbs up, in his element.

Rayna sat back and watched, impressed by the moves of people who looked like they probably did this every week, and eventually Annie got up too and threw herself into the spirit of it all. She was a great dancer, Rayna thought, watching her pick the rhythm up and twirl around the floor gracefully. The band were seasoned pros, churning out catchy song after catchy song, and Rayna found herself swept up by the atmosphere, swaying along to the music and rubbing her foot up and down Deacon's leg. He sat with one hand on her knee under the table, and it felt so natural she wished everyone knew about them so he never had to move it away.

'Incomin', y'all,' Jimmy said, leaning over to them from the other side of the table. He nodded to Rayna's left and she looked up just in time to see a small, slightly hunched man with a warm face holding out a hand towards her.

'Would you care to dance, miss?'

'Oh!' she said, taken aback. 'That is so sweet of you to ask - I'm afraid I'm a terrible dancer.' It wasn't strictly true but she was unprepared for such an offer, and the old man brushed away her modesty.

'I'm sure you're a wonderful dancer,' he said, and she couldn't say no to his kindly face.

With a glance at Deacon, who was enjoying the exchange, she stood up and took the man's hand. 'I'm Rayna,' she told him.

'Rayna, I'm George, and it's an honour to meet you. We don't get many young folks in here.' He patted her hand and led her to the dancefloor, to loud encouragement from Deacon and her friends.

'Now if you don't mind my askin',' George said, scooting her around the floor with ease, to her surprise, given his frail frame, 'what is it that brings y'all here?'

'We're musicians,' she said, a little thrill running through her. She'd never described herself that way to a stranger before. 'We're on tour, just passin' through here on the way to our next show.'

'Well now, how excitin'!' George's face lit up. 'We really do have some special guests in here tonight.'

She knew the steps, she realised, and got comfortable in them, letting herself relax. 'We're real pleased to be here.'

'And the young man, he's your companion?' He nodded in Deacon's direction, and Rayna followed. He was watching them, bopping his head back and forth to the song, and he gave her a little wave.

'Oh, he's… well…' she spluttered, not sure what to say, but George fixed her with the knowing look of a man who'd seen it all.

'You make sure he always treats you with respect,' he said. 'And makes you a cup of coffee every mornin' - that's the real secret to a happy life. Kept my wife from buryin' me in the backyard through sixty years of marriage, that first cup of coffee of the day.' He chuckled, and Rayna wanted to hug him.

They passed Vince and his ladies and he showed off his newfound moves to Rayna, losing his balance for a moment and almost tripping over his own feet.

The song finished and Rayna let go of George and clapped as hard as she could for the band. As they chatted about the next one they were going to play, re-tuning their instruments a little, she felt a hand on her waist and Deacon appeared beside her.

'Excuse me George,' he said politely, 'would you mind if I cut in?'

George tipped an imaginary hat at Rayna, pleased as punch, and grasped Deacon's shoulder briefly. 'I sure wouldn't mind at all. I think this young lady's just been waitin' for you to ask.'

He took a step to the side to let Deacon move infront of Rayna and she took his hand. 'That was wonderful,' she said, squeezing it, 'thank you so much, George.'

'The pleasure was all mine, dear girl. Remember what I said - first cup of coffee, every day.' He winked at her and at Deacon's inquisitive look, shrugged and was gone.

'What was that all about?' he asked, but the band started playing again and Rayna shook her head.

'I'll tell you later.'

He slid his arm around her waist and started to move in perfect time with her, carrying her effortlessly with him. Snug against his body, she closed her eyes for a moment and breathed him in, and he tightened his hold on her and did the same. The song was mid-tempo, and when the chorus kicked in he twirled her, catching her and dipping her to the floor as she laughed, forgetting entirely what dance they were supposed to be doing.

Annie joined them, bringing over the new friends she'd made, a lady with a matching cropped haircut and a couple of portly men with ruddy cheeks who were either twin brothers or Rayna had had too much to drink. She waved George back over and they all weaved in and out of each other's arms, abandoning the steps for their own.

By the time they sat down Rayna was out of breath, and euphoric. A bead of sweat had formed on Deacon's forehead and it was doing something to her, reminding her of how he'd looked at the same time the night before during a very different kind of exertion and prompting an avalanche of sensations to take her over. The drinks kept flowing and the songs kept coming, and Rayna revelled in every moment, her mind half there and half in the cabin bed with Deacon. She let the conversation drift around her, listening to her friends while she replayed him unzipping her dress and laying her down, kissing her slowly until she thought she would pass out. Her body easily conjured up the feeling of his fingers on her thighs, parting them.

'You okay Ray?' he asked, and she gasped.

No words would come out so she nodded, not daring to look at him, but she could tell with absolute certainty that he knew what she was thinking about. She could feel him watching her, studying the way her chest rose and fell.

And then the muscle-memory imprint of him making her come harder than she had any idea was possible crashed over her and she couldn't help it; she clamped her teeth together and let wetness seep from her, making her panties damp - she was thankful she'd put some on before they'd got off the bus. In her peripheral vision she saw Deacon smirk, and the hand draped over the back of her chair moved to lightly brush against her shoulder.

'I'm gonna go to the bathroom,' she said to anyone who might hear over the music, 'excuse me y'all.'

She got up carefully, aching with the need for Deacon, and gave him a look that said as much as she walked away. The bathrooms were back down the corridor towards the entrance, and she hurried towards them and found an empty stall, locking the door and leaning against it to gather herself. She knew he'd find a way to follow her, and damn, if she could just drag him into the stall with her…

She looked around, turned on to the point of delirium, and tried to calculate how he could take her in the small space. It astounded her how quickly she'd shifted from feeling ready but nervous about her first time with him to wanting him in any and every way she could possibly get him - they'd only had sex twice and already it was essential to her. She needed him inside her, and quickly.

Chattering ladies milled about at the sinks and Rayna listened, wondering how she could smuggle Deacon, very obviously a man, into a women's bathroom without anyone noticing. She admitted in frustration that it would be impossible, and unlocked the door, pausing to wash her hands and splash a little cool water onto her neck.

As she left the bathrooms she saw movement at the far end of the corridor, a familiar flash of dark brown hair and the toe of a cowboy boot poking around the corner of a peeling wall. With an excited shudder she glanced around to check no one was looking and headed towards him, and he beckoned for her to follow him through a set of double doors with cheap imitation glass panes.

'How'd you know this was here?' she asked, looking around at a conveniently empty dining room.

'Just a hunch,' he told her, taking her into his arms immediately. 'A damn lucky one.'

She didn't have the chance to respond - he was kissing her before she could, and she wound her arms tightly around his neck and kissed him back. He was as starving for her as she was for him, and they grabbed for each other everywhere they could, trying to get as close as possible. Deacon backed her up against a wall blindly, knocking over a bucket without breaking a step, and once he had her where he wanted her, he took her hips in his hands and scraped his teeth over her neck.

'Oh God Deacon,' she purred, 'I thought I might burst if you didn't touch me soon.'

He groaned roughly into her neck and moved back to her lips, his hands finding her ass and squeezing it. She wanted her clothes off, for his hands to grip her bare ass and him to bury his face between her legs while she grabbed fistfuls of his hair.

'Baby,' he said desperately, and she clutched at his back, his muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. He was so strong, and she knew he could do anything he wanted with her; the thought sent her dizzy.

He pushed her dress up and worked his hands inside the back of her panties, fulfilling at least part of her wish, and she moaned when he pushed himself against her, holding her tightly in place so she would feel his hard-on loud and clear.

'You were so damn good tonight,' he told her, licking her earlobe and rubbing her ass. 'That karaoke bar, everyone seein how amazin' you are. I'm so in love with you Ray.'

She made a sound in her throat and rested her head back against the wall, looking at him and trying to remember to keep breathing. 'I love you Deacon, God I love you.'

He dipped his tongue into her mouth, bunching up her panties on either side of her hips, toying with her, and as she was about to beg him to take them off, a door at the back of the room swung open.

'Shit,' Deacon hissed, looking behind him without letting go of her underwear. It was dark, the only light secondhand from the corridor, but they could make out a man, a janitor possibly, dragging something through a service door.

Deacon put a finger against Rayna's lips, something she found sexy as hell for some reason, and then pulled her down to the ground with him. He lifted the edge of a tablecloth on one of the large round tables and together they crawled underneath it, laughing as quietly as they could. They could hear the man clattering around, apparently in no hurry.

'We might be here a while,' he whispered, and she felt his hand on her thigh. He held her gaze and moved it higher, reaching the edge of her now-soaked panties, and brushed the front of them.

"Deacon,' she breathed, not sure if she was willing him to go further or stop in case they got caught, but the risk thrilled her and she opened her legs just enough to make room for his hand.

He rubbed his fingers over the front of her panties, grinding his teeth when he discovered how wet she was. She could feel the grainy carpet underneath her legs, and the image of him giving her carpet burn on her ass came to mind; she threaded a hand into his hair and pulled his face down to her, kissing him deeply and willing her panties to fall off.

The enclosed space seemed to amplify their lust into something almost dangerous, and Deacon sucked on her earlobe, breathing into it, his hand working against her with deliberate restraint. He moved it from between her legs and brushed it over her breast, licking his lips. The janitor found the overturned bucket and cursed as he picked it up, and they laughed silently, Deacon's hand pausing, filled with Rayna's breast.

With the janitor far too close to their table for comfort, Deacon pulled the top of Rayna's dress down and cool air hit her chest. She leaned back on both arms, breathing rapidly, and he lowered his head and sucked on her nipples, pulling them into peaks with his teeth. Rayna's head fell back and she tried her best to steady her arms, but she felt Deacon move into a kneel to get better access to her, and as he did so he slipped a knee between her legs. The pressure only made her ache more for him and she rubbed herself against him, a hand flying to his shoulder. He sucked hard on her nipples, his hands greedily cupping her breasts and smoothing over them repeatedly, and she saw stars behind her tightly closed eyelids.

'Where the hell is my rag?' the janitor mumbled, and somewhere in Rayna's brain she registered that he was moving chairs nearby.

She pulled Deacon's head up and could make out the realisation dawn on him too. Instead of stopping though, in the increasingly likely event they were about to be rumbled, he smiled wickedly at Rayna and shifted onto both of his knees, pushing her legs apart.

'Deacon,' she mouthed, her arms giving way, and as she dropped onto her back, he leaned over her and repositioned himself so he was lying square on top of her.

Through his jeans she could feel how hard he was, and he started to rub himself against her, perfectly lined up with her centre. The friction from the denim worked against her clit, and she ground against him, frustrated and worked up beyond belief. If she could have reached to unzip his pants and somehow gotten both their underwear off, she would have let him take her right there without a single care for being caught, but it was impossible, and instead she relished the feel of his mouth wide open against hers, and his hair tangled between her fingers. She loved the weight of him on her, and it only added to her desperation, every thrust working her clit into more of a frenzy.

He gave a final roll of his body against hers, making sure to generously lavish her clit, and pulled back, leaving Rayna gasping for more of him. She tried to sit up but he stopped her, anchoring her legs right where they were. The janitor put something down on top of their table with a clunk and she held her breath, sure the tablecloth was about to be pulled back any moment. Deacon carefully eased back onto his haunches, and without making a sound, moved her panties to one side to give himself access to her centre, and lowered his face.

Rayna's fist flew to her mouth and she bit down on it, Deacon's tongue taking a long, deep swipe of her wet, pulsing core. He was going to make her come with his mouth while a total stranger was standing not three feet away, and God help her, the notion made her spasm against him in anticipation. He really loved going down on her, his unrestrained enjoyment of her one of her favourite things, and he feasted on her, his nose pressing against her clit as he licked her from top to bottom over and over.

She opened her legs wider, panting as quietly as she possibly could, and pushed herself into him, letting him know she was close to coming. He dipped his tongue inside her, swirling it around and stroking it in and out, his saliva making her wetter still, and then replaced it with two fingers to suckle on her clit. Between his fingers and his tongue Rayna lost it, and she burst into orgasm with a vice grip on his hair, coming on his face to his very obvious satisfaction.

A chair leg appeared beside them seconds after Rayna had opened her eyes, and she covered her mouth with both hands, her heart racing from the orgasm and the exhilaration. Deacon stayed where he was, licking her slowly, and she wanted to lay there all night.

'Hey Wiley, we got a broken bulb at the front desk,' a second person called, the door opening again, and the janitor dropped a broom beside their table and shuffled away.

'Oh my God,' Rayna gushed, pushing herself up onto her elbows and looking at Deacon, who lifted his head.

He grinned at her and readjusted her panties, and sat up. 'You're delicious,' he said, and she groaned so hard her throat felt like it might split.

'I can not believe we just did that.'

'We should probably get out of here while we can, huh?' Deacon said, and with aftershocks still rolling through her body, Rayna let him help her to her feet and lead her out into the corridor on shaky legs.

Deacon had to excuse himself to go to the men's bathroom on the way back, and Rayna knew he was in dire need of relieving himself. They agreed that she'd head to their table and he'd meet her there, a staggered re-entrance, but as she eased back into her seat she wished fervently that it was her hand making him come rather than his own.

She vowed that when they got each other alone at the end of the night she would do all the things she'd learned that he loved, and the anticipation of it almost had her running back to the bathrooms herself. He was so open with her about what turned him on, and what really got him drooling, and she wanted to know everything, every position he liked, every fantasy he had. For the hundredth time that day, Rayna felt her stomach jump at the thought of all the things they could now do together, and it took everything in her to look semi-composed as Jimmy leaned over to ask her if she'd heard of whatever the song was that the band were playing.

Deacon returned a few minutes later mumbling some vague spiel about making a phonecall, and lucky for them both their friends were too many drinks in to quiz him.

/

'Apparently there's a bar through there,' Vince said, pointing beyond the tables to an alcove, people drifting in and out of it. 'Let's save the old guy with the cart a trip back over here - gimme a hand Deac?'

'Sure.' Deacon reluctantly let go of Rayna's hand under the table and got to his feet. 'Another vodka lime?' he asked, and she nodded.

Vince led the way, waving to people as they went, quite the hit with the geriatric crowd. As they neared the alcove, he swerved towards an exit door and hit it with his hip, pulling Deacon through it with him.

'Vinny, the bar's back there.'

'Yup.'

'Where we goin'?'

Vince just kept walking, and Deacon knew well enough to go along with whatever he was plotting. They got to a lone picnic table on a patch of grass out the back of the building and he climbed up onto it, feet on the bench, and sparked up a cigarette, offering it to Deacon. He declined, not wanting to kiss Rayna with tobacco breath; he'd decided he was going to give up anyway, he wanted to be minty fresh for her.

'So,' Vince said, leaning back and blowing a plume of smoke into the air. 'I wanna hear everythin'.'

'Oh that's what we're doin' out here.'

'You can't stop lookin' at her, do you know that? And you can't stop smilin' either.'

Deacon straddled the bench, a level down from Vince. 'How'd this happen, Vinny? I didn't know life could feel like this. I had no idea this kind of thing was even possible.'

'Deac, man, don't let this go to your head, but you're the best guy I know. You're the best guy I've ever known. You deserve this - love.' Vince took a long drag. 'And more than that, you deserve her love.' He motioned towards the club with the tip of his cigarette. 'That sweet girl in there, she's gonna love you her whole life.'

Deacon felt dizzy, the certainty of Vince's words giving him a sense of tranquility that took up roots. He wouldn't have to fight in life, not anymore - Rayna would love him through it all.

'You're gonna marry her one day,' Vince said, laying down on his back on the table top. 'You mark my words.'

Deacon sighed softly, and just for a moment he let himself picture it: Rayna in a white dress, flowers in her hair, him clean-shaven. He would love her his whole life too, there was nothing he was more sure of. He mirrored Vince and laid back, the bench narrow beneath his back. 'I'd marry her tomorrow,' he said, looking up at the stars. It was a clear night, and they twinkled white. 'Hell, I'd marry her right now.'

'I'll remind you of this conversation. It'll be in my best man's speech. We can have the reception right here - I bet they do a great buffet. Good sandwiches.'

Deacon laughed, filled with a hope for his life that he'd never had, not before Rayna. For the first time his life was looking like something he wanted to live every day, and the feeling was only getting stronger - every time he fell asleep with her he couldn't wait to wake up in the morning to see her again.

'I'll hold you to that.'

Vince rolled onto his side and propped himself on an elbow to look down at him. 'So you, my friend, had sex with Rayna. You fuckin' did it.' He jabbed the cigarette in Deacon's direction. 'Your blue balls have thawed, it's a freakin' miracle.'

Deacon snorted. 'My balls are doin' pretty damn good now, I'll give you that.'

'You just screwed her in the bathroom too, didn't you?'

'No!' he protested, but he could still taste her on his tongue and he wasn't convincing enough for Vince, who knew him too well. 'Not exactly.'

'You've looked dazed ever since you came back from your phone call. That good, huh?'

He wouldn't say it to anyone else, but Vince was no gossip. 'Better,' he confessed. 'A million times better.'

Vince let out a low whistle, impressed. 'Oh yeah?'

Deacon couldn't help himself - he'd been bursting all day and he needed to talk to someone about it. He rolled onto his side too, careful not to fall right off the bench. 'Vinny, I'm talkin'... somethin' else. I ain't never had sex that left me feelin' like I seen into another universe or somethin'. Last night… that wasn't sex. It was fuckin' magic.'

'What did it feel like?' Vince asked, captivated and completely still, something he never was.

He thought about it. 'Like bein' in perfect, effortless sync with someone, like maybe your two bodies are two halves of the same or somethin', meant to find each other.' He watched a plane glide overhead, so high up in the sky it looked like a toy. 'I knew it'd be special, I sure as hell was gonna make sure of that for her, but I wasn't prepared at all for how special it actually was.'

Vince's eyes were wide, the cigarette burning down towards his fingers, forgotten. 'What the fuck are you doin' at this party? Go take her home, asshole!'

Oh, he'd thought about it. He'd been thinking about it all night. He moved onto his back again and stretched his arms above his head, and Vince nudged the tip of his boot with a battered Durango.

'Every moment your girl has clothes on is a moment you're missin' out, buddy.' He remembered his cigarette and looked surprised to find it between his fingers, now a stub, and took a final drag before he stubbed it out on the corner of the table. 'You think it was a one off, bein' so mind-blowin'?'

Deacon let himself have a moment to relish the answer he was about to give Vince, knowing full well what his reaction would be. 'Oh, it wasn't a one off.'

'You're fuckin' kiddin' me! You did have sex with her just now, didn't you?'

He'd never looked more proud, and Deacon snickered, having fun. 'Not just now, no. On the way back from Montana though… maybe.'

'On the way back? Did you hump her on the backseat of that truck?' At Deacon's lack of denial, backseat or not, Vince's mouth fell open. 'Oh my God, you horny bastards,' he said, delighted.

Deacon laughed loudly, happiness all the way up into his throat. He sat up, missing Rayna with every fibre of his being. 'Let's go on back inside.'

Vince flicked his cigarette butt high into the air, a triumphant punctuation of the moment, and jumped down from the table. Before Deacon could take a step he felt Vince's arms wrap around him, and without a word he crushed Deacon in a tight hug for just a few seconds, and slapped him on the back hard before he let go, winding him ever so slightly.

'You're my fuckin' hero, Deacon Claybourne.'

/

When they got back to the table Rayna wasn't there, and Deacon tried not to be obvious as he looked around for her. He sat down and Annie handed him a shot glass filled with something dark.

'She's gone down the street with Jimmy,' she said, without him needing to ask, 'on a very important quest to get pizza. The old guys at the next table gave us the intel on a place that's still open, and the pizza crowd are tight with the vet crowd who run this joint so they let people bring it in here.'

'Right,' Deacon said, trying to look casual. 'Pizza sounds good.' His stomach grumbled at that moment - it really did sound good. He wished he'd gone with her, for the chance to be alone with her but more so, it was late at night, and she was a striking girl. People didn't walk past Rayna Jaymes without noticing her, and there were some creeps around.

He could feel Annie watching him and he threw the shot back, warmth hitting him instantly.

'You and Rayna,' she said, and he saw her scan the table to make sure no one was listening, 'you're very close.'

He wasn't sure how to answer, or if she was even looking for an answer. Annie was one of the smartest people he knew - she spoke when she had something to say, and she spent a lot of time observing: people, moments. She was curious, like a child or an old soul, he couldn't quite decide which. She sure as hell didn't gossip.

'We are.'

'She's special. I've never met anybody as magnetic as her. She makes you want to be around her without even knowing she's doing anything.'

Deacon's heart swelled with pride, as it always did when other people saw how incredible Rayna was. 'Yeah,' he said, too wistfully to get away with it, 'she sure does.'

Annie looked around again. Everyone else was talking heatedly about a particular riff one of Randy's guitar players had pulled off during the opening number of a show earlier in the week, paying no attention to anything but their admiration. 'You're a lucky guy.'

'Oh is that right?' he asked, his mouth dry, very aware he looked guilty as could be.

'She's beautiful.' Annie shook her head, and then her expression changed. 'She's also hot.'

Deacon laughed, making no effort to hide his very obvious concurrence on both counts, and it felt like relief. He hadn't told her anything, but she didn't need him to - she already knew about him and Rayna, he could tell, and she wasn't trying to trip him up.

'Got a thing for her there Annie?' he teased.

'Who doesn't have a thing for her?'

He grinned, stretching his arms out in front of him on the table and linking his fingers. 'You're askin' the wrong guy there.'

She considered him and folded her hands under her chin. He glanced at the scuffed biker boots discarded next to her chair, a Merle Haggard guitar pick glued onto one of them. 'The way she looks at you… what I wouldn't give, Claybourne.' She shoved him with her shoulder. 'Do me proud or I'll be hot on your heels to steal her away.'

He laughed again, accepting the challenge, and when he looked up Rayna was walking towards them, two huge pizza boxes stacked on her arms. Jimmy was a few steps behind her with another couple of boxes, holding them like he was bearing buried treasure.

'Hey!' he said, jumping to his feet to help her, failing to make it sound casual.

'Hey,' she replied, shaking her arms back to life when he took the boxes and set them down. 'Double cheese and salami,' she told him with a little wink, pointing at the left box. 'Extra jalapenos.'

She'd brought his favourite pizza. He sat down beside her and tried his damndest not to kiss her, telling her instead with his eyes that all the little things she did for him, the ways she thought of him and cared, they meant everything to him. She meant everything to him.

'Better not let Vince at that one,' Annie interjected, reaching for a slice. 'Might as well light dynamite up his ass.'

/

The walk back was more of a meander. Deacon didn't remember the road being quite so winding, but then again it could have been the shots. Rayna hiccuped quietly as she walked beside him, laughing after each one until she had to pause for breath, and he leaned against a tree next to her until they'd subsided.

'I can't believe Kennedy missed this,' she said when they set off again to catch up with their friends who were walking ahead, some in a straighter line than others.

'Blowin' us off for a girl, huh,' Deacon said, and it was too dim for anyone to see them, no streetlights and a new moon, so he put his arm around her shoulders.

She giggled. He loved when she giggled. 'I wonder how that's goin'.' She got more Southern the more she drank, he'd discovered; he loved that about her too.

'He's probably already moved onto the next girl, if Kennedy's track record's anythin' to go by.'

Rayna squinted up at him. 'You'd know about that,' she drawled, jabbing him playfully in the chest.

'Not anymore,' He caught her around the waist with both hands and she mimicked him - not anymore - and slid her arms up around his neck. 'You've changed all that,' he told her, 'for good.'

She sucked on her bottom lip and God help him, he dragged her into the trees and pushed her up against the nearest one, and kissed her hungrily.

Her fingers were cool under the hem of his t-shirt and suddenly an impenetrably dark woods full of rustling creatures seemed like the most ideal place on earth to feel her up. An owl hooted nearby and made her jump, and somewhere in the distance people were calling their names, and his fantasy dissipated. Maybe the woods wasn't the place after all.

They stumbled back out onto the road and jogged through the pitch black towards the sound of Kennedy and Vince's voices, until they caught them up and walked the rest of the way to the truck stop all together. Everyone scattered when they got back to where the buses were parked, in that way people did when they were drunk and in need of junk food, the bathroom, their beds.

Deacon didn't need to ask Rayna if she wanted to sneak onto the bus to make out - they were climbing the stairs before either of them spoke another word, their intention abundantly clear. It was dark and mercifully empty, and they fell into each other in a mess of hands and lips and teeth, staggering backwards in the direction of Rayna's room, the effort to resist each other most of the night about to blow like a lid off a pressure cooker.

It was too far to her room though and Deacon got her pinned against a wall, somewhere near the couches, he thought, but he couldn't tear himself away from her to look. She had her hands on his neck and her tongue in his mouth and he didn't give a fuck if they were even on their own bus, as long as there was a flat surface he could lay her down on in the next ten seconds.

A light clicked on. He pulled himself from Rayna's lips in confusion and blinked into it, the sudden brightness making his eyes sting. The unmistakable outline of Barb stood before them, hands on hips.

'Uh,' he mumbled.

'We…' Rayna said.

'We were just gonna write a song!' he exclaimed, in a moment of inspiration.

Barb lifted one eyebrow. 'With your tongues?' she deadpanned, and she must have found herself funny because she chuckled while they spluttered to come up with an explanation.

Deacon wasn't sure who felt more awkward, him or Rayna, but before he could dig them in any deeper the bus door flew open and Kennedy tumbled up the steps, the roadie he'd been hitting on earlier in the night right behind him. They all turned to look in time to witness the girl grabbing Kennedy by the collar and planting a kiss on him, shunting him backwards straight into Barb.

She was an immovable force and it took him a second to realise it was a person he'd bumped. Horror spread over his face and Deacon couldn't help but let out a stifled laugh. Kennedy, also a few too many drinks in him, hadn't clocked him and Rayna, and he looked at them in delayed surprise.

'We were just gonna write a song!' they said in unison.

'Nice,' Kennedy said, oblivious to their guilt, and he gestured to the girl. 'We were gonna have sex.'

There was a beat of silence, and then more clattering. Vince and Jimmy appeared at the top of the steps, arms full of brown paper bags, the smell of fries instantly filling the bus.

'Who's hungry?' Vince asked, and Deacon looked at Rayna, silently commiserating the both of them - there would be no-one having sex on Barb's bus that night.

'I call the cheese fries,' Rayna said, and he laughed.

'There better be mustard in that bag.'