Rayna let herself into the house and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She first did a little pirouette around the room, then stopped in front of her full length mirror. She wondered if she looked different somehow. She stepped closer, gazing at her lips. They seemed just the slightest bit puffy and she put her fingers over them, thinking back to when Deacon's lips were pressed against them. She shivered as she remembered how it felt to have his tongue battling hers, to feel his arms around her, pressing her against his chest.

His mouth tasted a little bit like beer, but mostly like Coke. It was warm and moist, his tongue kind of rough against her own. She shivered again, a warm feeling rushing through her whole body. She'd only been kissed like that once before and it definitely didn't feel like that, didn't make her feel like her whole body was on fire. Billy McIntosh had tried kissing her at a school dance during her sophomore year. She didn't mind kissing him on the lips, but when he forced his tongue in her mouth, she was horrified. Of course, then he'd told everyone she was a tease and not that good a kisser anyway. She'd been both mortified and angry, but mostly just hurt.

She looked at herself again. She didn't look any different, but then that was probably a silly thought. It wasn't as though she'd had sex or anything. It was just a kiss. A really good kiss, but just a kiss nonetheless. It did make her stop to think about the rest of it. Will he expect me to have sex? He's older and I'm sure he had sex with Samantha Beeswax. In fact, I'm sure of it. I hope he doesn't expect me to…yet. But what if it means he doesn't want to kiss me anymore, if I won't?

She sighed. So many questions and no answers. Deacon was a grown up man, though. Maybe he was just nineteen, but he'd been on his own for a while, she knew that. And boys did expect more. She knew that too, because Tandy had told her that. She went over to her closet and changed into a nightgown, then went to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she crawled into bed and turned out the light.

She couldn't sleep though. She'd gone to that party without any expectations. She hadn't even known Deacon would be there. Even if she'd known, she would never have thought he'd be nice to her or that, at the end of the night, he would kiss her. That was so unexpected. And he'd kissed her again. And again. And then one more time. So it wasn't a mistake.

She tried reliving it all over again, remembering the light scrape of his stubble across her chin, the feel of his lips – a little rough – on hers. The feel of his knuckles against her skin. She wanted to kiss him some more. She wanted him to hold her in his arms. She wanted...what exactly do I want?

She rolled over onto her side, crossing her arms over her waist. She wondered what it would be like to have sex. With him. She wondered if it was like what she'd read in those romance books she liked. Where the man would grab the woman and push her down on the bed, pushing up the inevitable gown. The books always described it as being magical, sometimes a little painful at first, but then always glorious. Tandy had always told her not to believe everything she read, but she wanted it to be magical. She wondered if Deacon would be gentle or if he would be like an outlaw. The songs made it seem like an outlaw would be an amazing lover, amazing enough to win over someone who was destined to be with a rich man, a gentleman. An outlaw would be exciting and hot. She felt her face burning.

She rolled onto her back and smiled. She couldn't wait until Thursday.

####

He'd sort of surprised himself when he kissed her. It wasn't like he'd planned it. Hell, he didn't even know she would be there, so there was no way could have thought it would happen. He hadn't even considered it, really, until they were sitting outside her house. He'd wanted to, for a while, he knew that, even though he'd tried to cover it up with Samantha. He smiled then. Samantha Beeswax. Clearly Rayna had thought about it or she would never have made up that name.

He had wondered what it would be like to kiss her and now that he had, it had been better than he'd expected. She made it seem like she was so inexperienced – and maybe she was – but that kiss was not an inexperienced kiss. It was real and amazing. She didn't shy away at all. He hadn't wanted to stop. Each time was better than the one before and she was completely all in.

He was so absorbed in thinking about Rayna and that kiss that he almost missed his turn. He pulled into the apartment parking lot a little fast and screeched the tires as he pulled into an empty parking space. He sat in the truck for a moment, then got out and raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. He let himself into the apartment and walked into the tiny kitchen, slamming his keys down on the counter. He reached in the cabinet for a glass and then pulled over the half-empty bottle of whiskey Vince had gotten for him.

He poured two fingers of whiskey into the glass and took a long swallow. He winced at the burn, then closed his eyes as he felt the warmth reach his belly and then curl back up his chest. Then he tipped the glass up and downed the rest. He poured another glass and then took it and the bottle and settled in on the couch. A half bottle of whiskey would only get him buzzed, but he was in the mood to celebrate.

He couldn't wait until Thursday.

####

She dressed carefully before she left the house. It was a warm, sunny day and, although she knew they'd be in the shade, it could still feel hot. She put on a denim skirt and a t-shirt and slipped on sandals. She brushed her hair into a side ponytail and tied a red ribbon around it. She had lightly applied makeup and she leaned into the mirror, tracing her lips with a light blush lip color. She stood back and looked at herself, then turned to check out both sides and her back. She was satisfied that she looked casual but pulled together.

She ran down the stairs and out to the kitchen, where Vernice was sitting at the table, looking at a magazine. She looked up when Rayna came in. "Where you off to, Miss Rayna?" she asked, with a smile.

"I have a guitar lesson," she said, with a smile.

"With that cute young man?" Vernice asked, with a wink.

Rayna could feel herself blush. "Yes," she said. "But it's just a guitar lesson." She was, of course, hoping it was a lot more than that, but she didn't want to alert Vernice to anything. At least not yet.

Vernice winked at her. "Looks like it's more than a guitar lesson to me," she said.

Rayna bit her lip. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you definitely are all dolled up, Miss Rayna. Your hair's all nice and you got makeup on. Plus that short skirt that shows off them long legs of yours."

Rayna looked down at the skirt. "Is it too short?" She looked back at the housekeeper. It wasn't her intention to go overboard.

Vernice clasped her hands together and smiled. "You look cute as a button, Miss Rayna. That young man will fall head over heels in love with you."

Rayna laughed a little self-consciously. "Well, I better run or I'll be late and he'll just be annoyed with me." She waved as she headed for the den. She picked up her guitar and then headed for the sliding doors that led out to the patio. She walked across the patio and out to the garage. She put her guitar in the back seat, got in the car and started it, and then headed for the road.

When she pulled into the parking lot, she could see him, already sitting on one of the picnic tables. He was hunched over his guitar and didn't look up until she was almost standing in front of him. It gave her a chance to watch him, his fingers flying across the strings, the muscles and tendons in his arms tightening as he played. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and, even though it was warm, he had on his cowboy boots. He looked up as she approached and she felt her heart start to beat faster as she looked into his sparkling blue eyes and thought about how it would feel to run her fingers through his shaggy dark brown hair, smoothing it back off his forehead.

She held her breath as he looked at her, wondering what he was thinking. Then a sweet smile crossed his face. "Hey," he said. "I was wondering if you ran into traffic."

She stood just looking at him, thinking the smile on her face probably looked goofy, but not being able to wipe it from her face. "No, just a little late getting away." Her mouth felt dry and her hands felt moist and her heart was still beating wildly.

He nodded his head to the place beside him. "Come on," he said. She took a deep breath, then walked over and set her case on the table, opening it and pulling out her guitar. Then she got up and sat next to him. He smiled and then leaned in and brushed her lips with a kiss. "I'm glad you're here," he said, with a shy smile.

She smiled back. "Me too."

####

He'd been the tiniest bit afraid she wasn't going to come. But then he looked up and there she was, the sunshine behind her, making her look like the angel she was. When she sat next to him, he couldn't help himself, and he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, as much because he wanted to as because he wanted to see her reaction. He could tell that she was leaning in too and then she smiled at him, that beautiful, sweet smile that lit up her face and put a sparkle in her eyes.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, setting his guitar aside.

"Me too."

He took a deep breath. "I missed you."

"Really?" He nodded. "I missed you too. And I really am sorry about yelling at you that last time I saw you."

He shook his head. "It's okay. I get it that you didn't know."

She made a face. "Well, I'll ask before I assume anything anymore." She looked like she'd just thought of something. "Speaking of that, you said you were done with Samantha. Did y'all break up?" He nodded. "Why?"

"Well…."

She shook her head and blushed. "Wait. You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business."

He breathed in. "I broke up with her because of you," he said, feeling like he was blowing out the words.

She looked surprised. "What?"

He shrugged. "I did it 'cause I wanted to be with you."

"But I had been so mean to you. And you didn't know if you'd ever see me again."

"I know. But I didn't want to be with her. 'Cause of you." He was sort of holding his breath, because he wasn't exactly sure she felt the same way he did. He took another deep breath. "When I saw you the first time at the Bluebird, I knew."

She looked stunned. "But you didn't even know me then," she said, breathlessly. "How could you have known?"

He wasn't sure he was ready yet to tell her she'd inspired a song. That seemed like it would scare her away. "Well, you were pretty and you had a pretty voice and you, well, you seemed nice. I could just tell, you were nice. Not fake."

She still looked a little surprised. "Wow," she said.

He bit his lip, afraid he'd gone too far. "I know, you think maybe I'm a loser or something," he said, looking away.

"No, no, not at all," she said, putting her hand on his arm. She smiled a little shyly. "I liked you too, when I saw you on stage. I thought you were…handsome. And you were a good singer too. And then you were so nice to me." She put her guitar behind her on the table, scooted closer to him and smiled more fully. "Kiss me again," she said. He leaned in and brushed her lips. When he pulled back, she was frowning. "No. Better than that." She grabbed his arms and leaned into him and he kissed her again, this time taking his time, tasting her mouth, then tugging at her lip until she opened her mouth to his. He wondered if she'd eaten candy before she came, or a breath mint, because her mouth and tongue tasted like peppermint, as sweet as she was. He lifted his hand and threaded his fingers in her hair, laying his hand against her neck as he kept kissing her. When he finally sat back, they were both a little breathless. She laughed. "That was much better," she said.

He smiled. "Yeah, it was." He moved a little closer to her and kissed her again, this time putting his arms around her waist. He felt her slide her arms around his neck and for a second, he felt like he wanted to cry. He would never have thought he could be with someone as perfect as Rayna. When he pulled back from her again, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and a light flush across her cheeks.

She laughed a little self-consciously. "Should we be having a guitar lesson?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.

He smiled. "I kinda like the kissing." He pushed her hair back from her face.

"I do too, but…isn't that why I'm here?"

He bit down on his lip. "I was thinking about that." She clasped her hands in her lap and looked at him. "So first of all, I was thinking maybe you'd let me be your guitar player. Like when you go somewhere, I can too, and play guitar for you."

She frowned a little. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't want to do that. And shouldn't I learn the guitar anyway?"

He sighed. "I just wanna help you out, Rayna," he said. "Make it easier for you. I can still teach you. If you want."

"Well, I do want. I need to know how, I think. You know, when I'm working on songwriting, anyway."

He nodded. "We can do that then." He took a deep breath. "I was also thinking that maybe we could, you know…go on a date."

She raised her eyebrows. "A date? A real date?" He nodded. "Are you sure? I mean, because I'm sixteen. Almost seventeen though."

He let a smile play on his lips. "You trying to tell me you don't wanna go on a date?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all." She smiled. "I do want to go on a date." She lifted her clasped hands to the center of her chest. "What would we do?"

"I was thinking we could go somewhere and listen to music."

"Like the Bluebird?"

"Maybe. Or someplace else. It don't matter. Wherever we can get in."

She smiled. "I would love to. When?"

He let out a sharp laugh, thinking she was definitely spunky. "What about Saturday?"

She hesitated, biting down on her lip. "My father is gonna be home."

"Will he not let you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess he would." She looked at him. "You'd have to meet him."

That sort of felt intimidating. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "So, can I pick you up at 7?"

She nodded and smiled. "Yes." Then she reached back behind her and pulled her guitar onto her lap. "Now, it's time for that guitar lesson."

####

Her father had extended his trip into Sunday morning and Rayna had breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that she wouldn't have to deal with him meeting Deacon just yet. It wasn't that she was worried about Deacon, but she knew her father would take one look at him and decide he wasn't 'our kind' or something equally obnoxious. It wouldn't matter that boys who were 'our kind' weren't interested in her or that she actually liked Deacon, Lamar Wyatt had always set a high bar for her and Tandy, no matter what it was. While she knew he would eventually meet Deacon, she wanted the relationship to be more solid when he did.

She dressed carefully, wearing a skirt and a sleeveless blouse. She would bring a light sweater, just in case the place where they went was chilly. She pulled on her red boots and then added some makeup. She brushed out her hair, which was long enough to skim her shoulders. She turned right, then left, checking herself in the mirror and she smiled, happy with what she saw. She had always been very pragmatic and honest about herself. She knew, when she looked in the mirror, that she was considered pretty and she tried to accentuate her eyes and her high cheekbones.

She picked up a cross body purse and slipped in some money, a comb, lip gloss and her house keys, then headed downstairs to wait. She sat in her father's study and looked out the window, waiting for Deacon to pull into the driveway. He was taking her to the Station Inn downtown, where they'd get a chance to see some bluegrass music. She had never been and was excited to see the famous landmark venue. Finally she saw Deacon's truck pull up to the front porch and she got up and ran out the door.

She was sitting at the table, waiting for Deacon to come back with drinks and food. The place was filling up and she felt a tingle of excitement. Bill Monroe was one of her mother's favorites, so she was familiar with bluegrass music. His rendition of 'Wayfaring Stranger' had made a huge impression on her when she'd first heard it. It had affected her in a way no other song really had. There had been many songs she loved, songs that had made her want to sing country music, but that song had touched something deep inside her. It had struck her, when her mother died, that the song had, in many ways, foretold what was coming. And again, it had rocked her.

Just then Deacon came back and put pizza and drinks on the table, then slid into the chair next to her. She had to breathe in and out, pushing down the intense feelings she'd had from just thinking about 'Wayfaring Stranger'. She looked at him and smiled. "Pepperoni pizza and" – he slid a Diet Coke over to her – "Diet Coke for you." He had a regular Coke.

"This is great," she said, pulling the plate with the pizza between the two of them. She picked up a slice. "I haven't had pizza in I couldn't tell you how long." She bit off the end of the slice. The cheese was perfect and the pepperoni was the right amount of spicy.

He laughed. "Really? You don't got pizza places in Belle Meade?" He emphasized 'Belle Meade' like he was making fun and she laughed.

"Yes, we have pizza places. But Daddy doesn't eat pizza. We always have to have a regular meal. So this is a treat."

"You like bluegrass music?"

She nodded. "I do, although I don't listen to it real often. I'm excited for this though."

"So this is gonna be like a guitar pull. You ever done one of those?"

She gave him a look. "Are you kidding? Me and a guitar?"

He laughed. "You could still do that. Anyway, it's like that, only it's bluegrass. Anyone who wants to come can play and they'll take turns. Writer's rounds at the Bluebird are like that, except it's more formalized. You'll like it."

"I can't wait."

It was an amazing night and a perfect first date, as it turned out. After they'd finished their pizza, Deacon put his arm around the back of her chair and brushed her bare shoulder with his thumb. He'd periodically lean over and give her a peck on the lips. He knew some of the people who were playing and he'd point them out. She was sorry when it was over and it was time for them to leave.

As they walked out of the venue and around the corner to where he'd parked, he took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. She couldn't help but smile. She really liked Deacon Claybourne and she was glad she'd run into him at Stewart Osborne's party. He held the door open for her as she got in the truck and then they headed back to Belle Meade.

She was surprised to see lights on when they drove up to the front porch. There were lights on in both her father's study and the dining room. She was sure she'd turned out the light in the study and she felt a little queasy, wondering if her father had come home early. Deacon got out of the truck and hustled around to open the door for her. As he walked her up the steps, the front door opened and Lamar Wyatt was standing there, his face impassive.

They stopped. "Daddy," she said, feeling nervous.

"I didn't know you were going out tonight, Rayna," Lamar said, his voice measured and firm.

"Well, you weren't home, so you wouldn't have known," she said, feeling Deacon's hand laying protectively against her back. "When did you get back?"

"Not long ago," he said dismissively. He looked over at Deacon. There was a tight smile on his face, but she could see it wasn't reaching his eyes. "And who's this?"

She was going to introduce him, but Deacon stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Deacon Claybourne, sir."

Lamar ignored his outstretched hand. "I don't believe you live around here, do you, Mr. Claybourne?" he asked.

Deacon dropped his hand, stepping back to stand next to her. "Uh, no sir, I don't. I live over in East Nashville."

Lamar raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly is it that someone from…over there would know my daughter?"

Rayna decided she needed to step in here. "I met him at the Bluebird, Daddy. Tandy and I went one night and he and his sister were performing."

"Ah, so he's a singer, is he?"

"Yes, sir," Deacon said. She could tell he was a little confused by her fudging on the story, so she hoped he would let her take the lead.

"He is, Daddy. A very good one, actually."

Lamar stood there, his arms crossed, just looking at the two of them. "Rayna, I think you need to come inside. It's late." She hesitated, wanting to talk to Deacon. "Rayna, did you hear me?" Her father glared at her.

She turned to Deacon. "Thanks, Deacon. I had a great time. I'll talk to you soon." Deacon nodded, not saying a word, and then he turned and went back down the steps and got into his truck. She watched him drive off and then turned back to where her father was still standing at the top of the steps.

"That's the last time you'll see Deacon Claybourne, young lady," her father said, as he turned to walk back into the house.

She frowned. "Why? Just because he's not from here?" Her father kept walking and she ran up the rest of the steps and into the house. "He's nice, Daddy, very polite."

"I'm sorry, Rayna, but you live in my house and he's not the type we want around here." He headed for his study. She followed him, standing at the door with her fists clenched.

"That's absurd. If I want to go out with him, I will."

Lamar whirled around, his eyes steely and his face red with anger. He pointed his finger at her. "Oh, no you won't, young lady. You follow my rules, as long as you live in my house. And he belongs on the other side of the river, not taking my daughter out God knows where."

"That's just ridiculous. Where he lives doesn't matter. He's nice and he's talented and he treats me with respect. He likes me, Daddy."

"That's the problem, Rayna. You're meant for much better than some uneducated ragamuffin who came here to play hillbilly music. I forbid you to see him again." He turned and walked to his chair by the fireplace. "That's the last I want to hear about it either."

She stood, fuming, at the door, then finally turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. I will do whatever I want. He's not going to keep me from seeing Deacon.