Hold on, a couple more hours;
I'll be home, ready to lay in your arms.
Don't change your mind.
"Sleepy?"
"Umm … not really. You?"
"Nope. Not while I got you here with me."
Late evening had long since become early morning, and all around them on his bed, pillows, sheets and blankets were strewn in disheveled heaps. Rayna and Deacon lay facing each other, side-by-side, an island of calm amidst the chaos, utterly lost in the depths of one another's eyes.
Her left index finger was tracing a path from his right ear lobe to the cleft in his chin, drawing itself gently, over and over, through the stubble of his beard. She paused every so often to drop a kiss on his mouth, or his forehead, or his cheek, or the tip of his nose.
His right fingers were moving slowly across her left cheekbone and then raking through her hair, from her scalp down over her shoulders and onto her bare back.
She sighed and stretched her legs out, twining them up with his.
He smiled, his dimples flashing.
"I like it when our legs get all tangled up together."
"I like being naked with you."
He moaned softly at her words, leaning in to kiss her mouth.
"You know what I am?"
"The most beautiful woman in the world?"
She laughed softly.
"Oh, man. You're shameless, Deacon Claybourne."
"No, just honest. Uh ... I'm gonna say - horny?"
"Well … yeah. But I was gonna say - starving."
"You too? Thought you might'a heard my stomach growlin' before."
"All that food on the buffet line and I never can eat a thing at those parties."
"I know."
"You got anything in this house?"
"Yeah, we just … uh, I … I just went shoppin' a few days ago. Think I could rustle us up somethin' if you like."
"I'm not eating Spaghetti-O's, Deacon. Just saying."
"You know me too well, Ray."
"Funny. I told Tandy the same thing about you, earlier tonight."
He studied her, still drawing his fingers through her hair, then rubbed his nose against hers.
"Water under our bridge?"
"Yup. Too cold to swim tonight, though."
"Agreed."
"Soooo … you got a loaf of bread and maybe some eggs?"
"Think so."
"I could make you one of those fried egg sandwiches you used to like."
"Mmmm … I forgot all about those. I'd love that, darlin'."
"Okay. But you gotta do something for me."
He grinned, raising his eyebrows and leaning in to kiss her softly.
"Absolutely anything you want, any time you want it."
She laughed.
"Okaaaaay - that sounds promising. But I was thinking about you getting your guitar out and playing me some songs. The really old stuff we used to do, those first few summers we toured together. Do you remember any of that music?
"What, like 'Postcard From Mexico'? Looked like you remembered that one just fine the other night."
She stared at him for a moment, catching the challenge in his eyes, but decided not to take the bait.
"I was thinking more along the lines of, 'At The End of the Day.' Remember that one? I can't get it out of my head tonight. And 'Don't Leave Without Me,' 'That Could Be Us,' 'No One Will Ever Love You,' - songs like that."
"Sure. I know exactly where all that music is, too. I dug it out when we were talkin' about doin' that tour last year."
"Good. You want to sing a few after we eat something?"
"Sure, that'd be fun."
Deacon kissed her forehead and then rolled over, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his back to her. He pulled open a dresser drawer, but before he could reach inside, Rayna was pressed up against his back, slipping her arms around his chest and kissing the back of his neck, her hair trailing over his shoulders.
"Hey," he said, turning to look at her and smiling quizzically. "I thought you were hungry. You wanna eat or not?"
She rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I do. I just … I hate to leave this bed, is all."
"Well, you stay right here and I'll bring you a fork an' a nice can of spaghetti. Perfectly good eatin'."
"Ugh," she sighed, leaning around to kiss his cheek. "That's it, let's go."
"We'll be back before long, Ray. I promise."
Rayna tore herself away from him and scooted over to her side of the bed, looking down at their fancy party clothes strewn all across the floor.
She looked over at Deacon, who was putting on a pair of navy sweatpants.
"Uh … you got a robe or something?"
He stood up and pulled a dark blue, V-necked T-shirt over his head.
"Darlin', seein' you in my kitchen, wearin' nothin' but your birthday suit? That'd probably make my year."
"Oh, I don't doubt that for one minute, Deacon. But cooking and birthday suits don't exactly go together, you know?"
"Well, shit. I guess you got a point there. Lemme see …"
He walked over to his closet and rummaged for a moment, finally pulling out one of his blue plaid shirts and holding it up for her.
"You used to be kind'a partial to runnin' around in one of these, as I recall."
She smiled and walked over to him, reaching for the soft flannel shirt.
"That's right, I did."
He held it open for her as she turned and slipped her arms into the over-sized sleeves. He reached around her from behind and started buttoning from the bottom up as she worked her way from the top down. Their hands met in the middle and he pulled her back into his chest, burying his face in her hair.
"Mmmm … that's why I love these shirts."
"Why?"
"They're the next best thing to being wrapped up in you."
He smiled, his eyes closed.
"I'll tell you something funny. I have one of these - one of your old ones - stashed in the back of my closet at home."
"Really? Why would you do that?"
"I dunno. Just … sentimental, I guess. Reminded me of being with you, all these years."
He moaned softly, this little secret confirming so many of his lonely, late-night fantasies that he scarcely knew what to do with it.
"That's awful sweet," he said, tightening his left arm around her and sweeping the hair off the back of her neck with his right hand, so he could kiss her there. She moaned quietly and leaned back into him, enjoying the feel of his mouth on the nape of her neck. Very quickly, Deacon felt himself getting hard again.
This time, she turned and looked at him with a teasing smile.
"Really, Deacon? Man, you got some staying power."
"Maybe we can set a record. Whaddaya think?"
They stared at each other for a moment and then both burst out laughing.
"Jesus, were we this bad when we were teenagers?"
"I dunno, Ray. But you were about ready to do it in the back seat of a car a while ago. That brought back a few memories."
"Oh my god, I know. It was the bed of your pickup, though, remember?"
"Oh, I remember. I wouldn't be surprised if we still hold that particular record. Maybe we ought'a check with the Ford Motor Company."
She was laughing helplessly by now, her hands covering her mouth.
"Stop it! I really do think it's worse this time around, though."
He was laughing hard now, too, his hands on her shoulders for support.
"I'm thinkin' it's more like ... cats in heat."
"Well, at this rate, we're both gonna die of starvation before we ever make it out of this room."
At that, he took a deep breath and straightened up.
"All right, somebody's gotta be the grown-up here, an' I can see it's not gonna be you, Ray."
She continued laughing as he took her hand and headed resolutely for the door.
"I sure as hell can't let you starve, darlin'. Edgehill would have my ass on a platter. Let's go."