But don't say it's over, I'm-a fix what I've done;
Gonna lay down beside you, gonna lay down my gun.
The struggle ain't over, but I hope you will stay;
'Cause I'm quittin' at the end of the day.
Rayna settled down on the couch in the living room as Deacon pulled out his guitar and rummaged around in a file cabinet, taking out a folder full of sheet music. Then he disappeared and came back carrying an armful of candles.
"Look at you, babe. What a romantic. That's why I love you, you know."
"Oh, so it's my poetic soul that turns you on, huh?"
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, coyly.
"Well, that and … a few other things."
He chuckled.
"Bad girl."
He fished a book of matches out of a drawer and lit the candles, turning the lights in the room down.
"Hell, if we're gonna have this little sing along, we might as well do it up right, the way I figure it."
"Fine with me."
She curled her legs underneath her and he sat down beside her, tuning his guitar and propping his bare feet up on the coffeetable. She leaned her knees up against his thigh and rested her hand on his arm.
For the next hour they took a musical trip down memory lane, foreheads inclined together, kissing softly and crooning one old love song after another as the candles burned down.
Finally, he brought out the music she'd been waiting for all night.
"Quittin' the bottle, at the end of the day …"
Her voice was clear and high, pouring out his poignant words about love and longing, good intentions and broken promises. The beautiful melody wrapped itself around the plaintive hope of redemption.
There was something about this wistful song, something about his plea for forgiveness, that had always touched her deeply.
He leaned over as the last notes of the song died away and their lips met, lingering a moment. He finished strumming and reached his hand over and rested it on her knee; she took his fingers in her own and caressed them.
"I still love that song so much."
"God, this feels so right. I wish we could'a done it years ago."
Rayna watched the wax slowly dripping down the side of a candle.
Deacon sighed.
"Who knows? We might'a had a family of our own by now."
He reached over and kissed her temple, but Rayna turned her face away, afraid he would see the guilt written large there.
One day, she would need forgiveness, too.
"What'sa matter, darlin'? Gettin' tired?"
"Yeah, I guess. I hate to stop singing, though. These old songs are so great."
"We got all the time in the world to sing together, Ray. Maybe we'll even get to do that tour we talked about."
She smiled at him and stretched.
"That'd be nice," she said, climbing off the couch. He stood up and gathered his music, putting his guitar in its case on the floor.
"I'm gonna put this stuff away and lock up. Meet you in the bedroom?"
She smiled at him.
"Okay."
"Hey, look in the bathroom cabinet. I bought you some stuff."
"Really? Better watch out, Deacon, next thing you know I'll be wanting a drawer."
"Darlin', you can show up on my doorstep any day, bags and baggage, an' stay here whenever you like, for as long as you like, as far as I'm concerned."
She looked at him, her brow furrowed slightly.
"When you're ready, Ray. That's all I mean."
She smiled and walked into his bedroom, straightening the crumpled bedcovers and scooping up their discarded clothing and tossing it into a corner. In the bathroom she opened the cabinet, pulling out a drugstore bag and finding a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a bottle of baby oil and four small tubes of toothpaste inside.
She examined them, guessing that he wasn't sure which brand she liked, so he decided to buy them all rather than get the wrong one. She got ready for bed, taking her makeup off with the baby oil – a product he must have remembered from when she was a teenager, which was the last time she'd used it. Then she walked over to her side of the bed and took off his shirt, laying it on a chair.
She slipped under the covers naked, stretching out with a happy sigh, enveloped in the sheets that smelled like him, her head nestled on his soft pillow.
When she opened her eyes, he was lying under the covers with her, stroking her hair. The room was dark except for a candle flickering on the dresser next to him, casting shadows across the walls.
"Hey," she whispered, reaching her left hand out and resting it on his chest.
"Hey, darlin'. You dozed off on me."
"Sorry. I'm awake now."
"It's okay. Go back to sleep, you're tired."
"Really? No ..."
"Yeah. We'll be right here in the mornin'."
"We will, won't we? I love knowing that."
"Me too. Tomorrow mornin' I'm … gonna show you how much I love you."
"Mmmm … sounds like a date."
"Count on it."
He kissed her forehead and watched her as she started to drift away from him. Then her eyes fluttered open again.
"Hey, Deacon … you know what I am?"
"Not a clue."
"Happiest woman in the world."
He smiled and kissed her forehead again, smoothing her hair back over her shoulders.
"I'm glad. G'night, Ray."
"'Night, Deacon."
Her breathing started to deepen and he could see her body relaxing. He rolled over and blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness.
He settled the pillow under his head and turned back toward her, wrapping his arm around her.
Rayna sighed.
"Deacon?"
"Shhhh … what is it, darlin'?"
"Keep the windows closed, okay?"
He laughed softly.
"Don't worry, I will."
The End
A/N: Thanks so much for all the feedback and encouragement on this one, and special thanks to Shiny Jewel for coming up with the prompt that turned out to be so much fun to write. Karen