TWENTY
Fallon
After two nights singin’ at Rooster’s Blues of Tupelo, Augusta and I hit the road south, a giant fold-out map of the state of Mississippi in her lap and braids in her hair. Her scuffed-up short leather boots told me she’d probably been kickin’ around in them since the time I’d known her last. And the way she smiled, coffee in a to-go cup in her hand, did something wild and crazy to my heart.
Made it flip like a schoolgirl despite every badass bone in my body.
Kept those sentiments to myself, though, because bein’ worthy of Augusta meant doin’ what was right, not sayin’ all the pretty things to make her love me again.
Truth was, I didn’t want her love if she couldn’t love the man I was now. I didn’t even know if I was lookin’ for it, but it sure felt good wakin’ up to her every morning. Hummin’ her to sleep at night was just about perfect too. I had a hard time thinkin’ of anything wrong between Augusta Belle and me until I started thinkin’ about our past. But truth be told, it’d been startin’ to feel like maybe that was something we could get over too.
“Grabbed this for you at the last store we stopped at.” I pulled a keychain out of my pocket, Elvis in glittery bold letters on one side, Tupelo, MS emblazoned on the other.
“This is great!” She grabbed it from my fingers, turning it over as her fingernails traced the letters. “We’ll always have Tupelo.”
“And Elvis,” I added seriously.
“So…how much of an off-the-beaten-path kinda guy are ya these days?”
Hesitation was runnin’ through my blood at just her words. “Got somethin’ on your mind?”
Her thousand-watt smile hit me across the distance between us, and I wanted nothin’ more than to press my lips to hers, pull this fucking truck over, throw away everythin’ that’d been comin’ between us, and make the world right again.
The idea that I’d only tasted her once, only felt her under my palms one night for a few all-too-brief hours had my chest aching in a way I didn’t even care to explain.
“See, there’s this state park just off the highway.” She pointed to a shade of evergreen on the map.
“And you want to go for a nature hike?” I screwed up my face, tryin’ to make sense of her request.
“The brochure in the hotel last night showed a massive swimmin’ hole.” Her grin grew. “With cliff-jumpin’.”
“Oh Christ.”
“I knew that’d be your first response, but hear me out. The sun on your face, the cool spring water rinsin’ every care in the world away…”
“I don’t have much for cares lately, but ’preciate your concern about it.”
She screwed her eyes shut, pushing a hand over her face and then sighing. “Just thought it would be fun, for old times’ sake.”
“Old times?” I growled. “Got no need to revisit old times. I’m really fucking good at the moment.”
“Well…maybe I just want to go for a swim,” she ventured finally.
“Now, that’s a request I can accommodate. Which exit am I headed to?”
Her cheeks lit with a radiant smile before she threw herself across the truck, sneaking a kiss at my neck.
I stifled a slow groan, long-dead arousal finally awakening.
“It’s the next exit.” I would have laughed, but Augusta Belle was sliding her hand through my beard, resting her fingertips along my jawline and brushing her lips across my cheekbone.
Hell, something about her touch lit a fire in my bones.
Swear I would die a happy man as long as I was in this woman’s arms.
Where I wouldn’t like to die at all was saving this woman as she swan-dived off a cliff face.
Something about Augusta Belle and adrenaline went hand in hand.
“Looks pretty fucking high from this vantage point,” I found myself mumbling a few miles later.
We were still driving up the dusty trail that led to the parking area when she squealed, pointing out my window as we both watched a brave swimmer launch themselves over the cliff.
I shuddered when he smacked the water.
“You’re insane.”
“Just keep driving. It looks amazing.”
“You’re the stubbornest woman I’ve ever known.”
“Thought I was the saddest?” She shot me a wild, heart-stopping grin.
“I’m revising my opinion.”
“Convenient.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge, and just as I was about to pull her across the seat and dive lips-first into her, she was pushing open the door and waving me on with her.
I shook my head, following her out of the parking lot and down the dirt path that led to the edge of the cliff.
She pulled her T-shirt over her head, triangles of a small black bikini peeking out at me.
She’d filled out a helluva lot since the last time I’d seen her in a bathing suit, and I liked it. Her soft curves begged for my fingertips, my teeth, all the love I had to spoil her with.
She pushed down her jeans, one leg at a time, before tossing them at me. “Hold my pants?”
I couldn’t help the laugh, eyes crinkling up before she blew me a kiss and spun, walking on confident steps to the edge of the cliff. She smiled at the few kids lingering around the edge, hanging out and watching as she hovered, taking in the water, imagining the drop, before she turned, throwing me a wink and then taking a few steps back before sprinting toward the edge. My heart suspended in midair, and my breath caught in my throat when she went over.
I’d seen her do this a hundred times over the years, but nothing ever prepared me for the moment she went over, free-falling into the abyss without any safety net to catch her.
I didn’t like it, but I was proud as hell of her every time she did it.
I wasn’t man enough to confront my fears as head on as she did.
“She’s cool as shit,” one of the kids mused, nodding at me.
I nodded. “Even cooler, man. I can’t keep up.”
He took me in with his eyes, my worn dark jeans with holes, tattered to the threads. Tattoos swallowing my hands and boots not meant for the Southern sun. But it didn’t seem to matter to him, and Augusta Belle certainly didn’t give a fuck about the way I looked.
Or at least, she’d never expressed a concern about it before. But walkin’ into any hotel we’d been to the last few days, anyone in their right mind probably thought I’d stolen her from the hand of God himself.
She was all sweet and soft and innocent porcelain features, the light to my dark all day long, and yet she was stronger than I could ever hope to be.
I waved at the kids, taking off down the trail that led to the water’s edge to find my girl and congratulate her on one stellar jump.
I met her at the shore just as she was climbing out, cold water dripping off her body, a gigantic smile spreading her round cheeks.
“That was incredible. You should try it.”
I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders, as concerned she’d catch a cold as much as I was of someone seeing her in a suit so damn small. “I’m super-good with living, thanks.”
She shook her head, pressing up on her toes and planting a kiss on my lips. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“Your lips on mine is all the thanks I need.”
Her cheeks turned a warm shade of crimson before I led her into the sunlight, the flat face of a giant boulder the perfect place for us to spread out. I stripped out of my shirt, laying it down on the rock before settling us both back onto it, my arms cradling her from the rough edges.
“So did you go to school for swimming?”
She looked up, surprise etched on her face. “No. No pool at the school I was at, so it wasn’t even an option.”
I thought of her parents and all they’d taken away from her that night.
And then I thought of all they may have given her.
I didn’t think I was in a place to give her anything—I hardly was now, but there was no doubt I wasn’t then.
My mind trailed back to all the nights after the fire I’d had to help my dad in and out of bed, feed him his medication, and help him with therapy. My sister and I had taken on the job full time, and it’d nearly sunk both of us.
No way could I have been there for her in those moments.
“You know the song about the old willow?” she whispered, voice warm with sun and memories.
“Yeah.” I traced circles along her bare shoulder, fingertips dipping in and out of the little black bikini strap that held the triangles in place.
“What made you write that one?”
I heaved a breath, remembering the night in Nashville I’d drained a bottle of cheap rye and wrote my heart out, furious tears in my eyes as the music torched every raw nerve. “That one’s about my dad, actually.”
She stayed silent for long beats, one china-white calf contrasted against the dark of my jeans as she pondered what to say next. “I really like that one.”
I nodded, waiting long moments before adding, “He never went to church, so the pastor wouldn’t give him a proper service, but he did offer to speak if I found a burial site. Turns out a person should be a part of a community to be buried in one.” I shrugged. “No one wants a drifter.”
The words hung thick between us.
“So I found the only place in all of Tennessee I decided I wouldn’t mind seein’ again. Under that old willow at the back of the field we used to go to.”
Tears welled up in her troubled eyes before she spoke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I think that’s the greatest regret I have.”
“Ah, Augusta Belle, life’s too short to fuss about regrets.” I swallowed my own ball of regret fighting to consume me.
“S’pose we should get back on the road,” I breathed, eyes shuttering closed under the warm sunlight.
“Want me to drive for a while?” she offered, clasping our fingers together and doing her best to pull me off the rock.
I gave in, stretching as I stood up, her small little arms locking around my waist and holding me in a tight hug.
My measured breaths seemed to soothe her as our chests moved in sync, my hands working into the long, wet locks of her hair as my chin hovered just above the crown of her head. “Honey and peaches, damn I missed that smell.”
Her arms locked a little tighter around my waist, fingertips digging into the flesh under my T-shirt as soft sobs began a slow shake of her shoulders.
“You okay?” I whispered at her ear, feeling a torrent of shivers race through her body when my body drifted so close to hers.
“Better than okay.” She sniffed once, and I wiped at a tear lingering on her cheek. “Just wish we wouldn’t have lost so much time.”
“Ah.” I smiled. “There you go with regrets again.” I unpretzled our bodies, threading our fingers, and heading back the way we’d come. “Best thing I learned over the last decade was livin’ in the moment is the only life worth livin’.” We reached my truck, and I helped her into the passenger side, giving her a peck on the lips when I could steal it. “I’m all about takin’ this, whatever this is between us, one day at a time. That all right with you, sunshine?”
Her grin split open before she tugged at the collar of my shirt, pulling me in and locking her ankles around my waist. “That sounds fantastic.”
I pushed my lips against hers, splitting the seam as our tongues worked together, hands spreading across bare skin as we ate up the sunshine pulsing between us. I slid my hands around her waist, hiking her farther up the front seat and following up after her, pulling the door closed behind me, locking my lips with hers again.
Her fingertips worked across my neck, slipping under my shirt and sending pulses of raw need throbbing between my legs.
“We need to get to Jackson.” I could hear the barely veiled restraint in my own voice.
“Let’s just camp out here.” Her tone lowered an octave, sweeter than honey.
“Christ, Augusta Belle.” I worked my hips between her damp thighs, grinding down on my back teeth as I thought about puppies and Grandma’s fried liver and any other damn thing I could manage, to keep myself reined in at this moment.
It’d been so fucking long.
All I could think about was what would happen if I hurt her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered at my neck, her lips touching my skin.
“Fuck,” I breathed, everything inside of me wantin’ inside of her at that moment.
“Please.” She arched her hips, her hand drawing mine up to knead at the heavy flesh of her breast.
“Everything in me is sayin’ take you right now, Augusta Belle,” I murmured at her earlobe. “But trust me when I say you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
She pushed her nails into my skin, making me wince as she wiggled around underneath me, driving me a little more insane with every damn movement. “I’m ready.”
I laughed. “You act brave, sweet bird.” My nose danced across the angle of her jawline, her nipples sharpening beneath the triangles of her swimsuit. “Care to tell me why your heartbeat is flickering faster than a hummingbird’s wings at your throat?”
Perfect white teeth sank into the aroused flesh of her lips as the tiniest of moans breezed past.
I slammed my eyes closed, needing to erase the face she made when she was so turned on she was about to combust under my hands. “Sing louder, pretty bird.”
She swallowed, gaze flickering on mine when I dragged my aroused length along her seam. Soft shudders coursed through every muscle in her body before she clamped down on my shoulder, hips rocking in a silent rhythm to mine before I ducked my head, clasping my lips at the soft outline of one pert nipple and sucking.
Low, serrated gasps fell from her lips before she was moaning once, twice, a third time louder until I angled myself a little deeper, sucking her sweet, damp flesh into my mouth a little harder. She was shuddering and moaning and heaving desperate pants of air against my chest.
“Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Tiny little tears formed at the corners of her eyes before she loosened her fingertips on my shoulders and came back down to earth, eyes finally focusing on mine.
I didn’t know what she was thinking in that moment. I couldn’t even put a finger on exactly what I was thinkin’, but I felt it.
Whatever was passing between us was supercharged. Somethin’ words could only cheapen.
She was silky and sensual, smoky on the lips, warm on the tongue, smooth on the way down.
She was whiskey.
And I was hooked.