Whiskey and Country

And beautiful from the way he looked at me, by the heat in his stare.

I lost myself in the amber of his eyes. In the sensations his body provided me.

With my hands splayed over his toned abs, I started moving up and down. Short gasps left my mouth when I rode him. Like I pictured doing so many times since we kissed for the first time.

Spasmodic groans escaped him as he clenched his teeth.

Increasing the friction, he lifted his pelvis, and with quick jerks of his hips, I welcomed him further inside me.

I closed my eyes as pleasure built in every fiber of my being, and my spinal cord buzzed.

We both lost ourselves in the bliss we brought to each other.

“Dahlia, I won’t—I can’t.” He breathed fast. “You’re beautiful. Look at me.”

Never breaking eye contact, I lay on my back, bringing him with me in my tumble. With my legs open, my knees spread on each side, Nick pounded faster. His lips firmed in a thin line, his features taut, and his eyes focused on my face the entire time.

He slowed his movements, clamping my hips, keeping me still as he emptied his load in jolts.

He grunted as we both convulsed in each other’s embrace, our hearts beating to the same rhythm, our breaths fighting for the same air.

Nick’s strong hands found my waist, keeping me close to him, as his lips peppered kisses over my eyelids.

“You’re beautiful. All of you. It was, you are”—he sucked in a puff of air, trying to even his breathing—“amazing.”

My emotions struggled to get out all at the same time. What we just did was out of this world. It made everything so much more real between us. “Don’t go, okay? Don’t leave. Don’t die. Stay with me.” The words, mixed with tears, left my mouth before I could hold them back. Or think them over. “I’ve been alone for so long. And now that you’re here, I never wanna be alone again. What we shared, it’s special. It’s us. It’s everything.”

A sob wheezed out. Nick had a way of making me feel vulnerable. A sensation that had become foreign to me when I had to strengthen myself to keep going three years ago.

He dried my tears with his thumbs. “Hey, I’m here. With you. I’m not going anywhere. As long as you’ll have me in your life. This. What we just did. It welded something between us. A force neither of us can deny.”

And his words felt as if he could read my deepest thoughts. The language of my soul.

It stole the last particle of air from my lungs.

Words I hadn’t spoken in years resurfaced in my head. And my heart. I pushed them down, not ready to assess what we were to each other. What we could be.

But knowing it wasn’t a dream. A mirage. Or a figment of my imagination.

No, these words had now planted seeds in my heart.

And they wouldn’t go away.

* * *

Nick passed me a sausage he’d just grilled over the campfire. Jack and Buddy rested on a blanket behind us, the dog being used as a playmat and a car track once more.

“Naughtiest thing you did as a kid?” I asked.

Nick’s eyes sprang up in my direction, and he hiccupped a laugh.

“Easy. One night, I found my Christmas presents and unwrapped them all,” he whispered.

“Oh no,” I exclaimed, cupping my mouth. “Did you get caught?”

“I was very careful to wrap them up afterward. But somehow, I mixed the name tags. My parents had a long talk with my sister and me about Santa. And nosiness.”

“Is your sister in Chicago?”

“No. She was in Europe for a while. Came back, somewhere on the East Coast. Met a guy. A surfer. One who escaped the expectations his family had put on him and moved to Australia. Last I knew, they lived in a van. And were happy.”

“Oh, this sounds fun. I wish I could live like that.” I paused. “Santa, huh? I can’t imagine you being naughty.”

Nick shrugged. “I had my moments growing up. Tucker got himself into lots of fights—mostly about girls—and I had to jump in to save his ass more often than I can remember. This scar on my eyebrow, I got it after Tuck was assaulted by the entire football team in Junior high because he made out with the quarterback’s girlfriend under the bleachers and everyone saw it. I couldn’t let him get his ass kicked. Again. Not that he couldn’t defend himself, but he’s my friend, so we always had each other’s back. We still do.” He snickered. “He loved that. No, I take my words back. He still loves that. Trouble. And girls.”

“Oh, this is terrible. I can’t wait to meet him. He sounds like an—interesting guy.”

“Believe me, he is. But he’s also the most loyal person I know. And there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he loves. He’s the best. And you’re right. You can’t be bored with a friend like that.”

“Addison is the same. She was the popular girl in high school. Always having a boyfriend. Attending parties. Experimenting with everything before kids our age. She got me my first beer at fifteen. Whenever we’re together, it’s like no time has passed since high school. She pushes me to try new things. To be more adventurous. To follow my instincts.” I shook my head as some of Addison’s and my best memories flashed in my mind. “What are your parents like? Are you close?”

“No, they live in Italy. I don’t see them very often. They rarely come to visit me. Maybe once a year at the most. I try to go when I have some free time. Tuck feels more like family to me. But you should see my parents together. They’re the real deal. Love at first sight. They were made for each other. Even after all this time, they’re still madly in love. They’re the definition of a couple goal. Sometimes I think they love each other more than the idea of having a family. It’s okay. As long as they are happy. Are your folks around?”

“Still living in White Crest. In my childhood home. My dad’s a lawyer. He used to manage Carter’s and my career when we first started. Got us our big break contract when we signed up with Riley. They come here from time to time, but usually, I’m the one driving there to see them. After Jeff died, I pulled away from everybody I loved. Because it hurt too much. All those memories… Carter refused to gimme my space. In a way, I’m happy he didn’t. He prevented me from drowning.”

I averted my eyes, memories of my past hitting me at full force. Nick moved his chair next to mine and held my hand.

“It’s okay to be sad. I already told you. How was he?”

I met his eyes. “Who? Jeff?”

“Yeah.”

A warm laugh came out. “Where do I even begin? I’d known him all my life. He was three years older than Carter and me. The three of us grew up together. But never did it occur to me that we could be more someday. Jeff always volunteered to help Carter and me anytime we needed help with something. Always gravitating around us. And he used to brag he was our biggest fan. And the truth is, he was. From day one. Thumbs-ups, smiles, driving us around. He never missed a show unless he had to. He’s the one who got us on Riley’s radar. He would have done pretty much anything to see us succeed.”

“Did he sing too?”

I shook my head, grinning at the memory. “No. And he couldn’t figure out a guitar either. If he would have, we would have been unstoppable. Our chemistry was off the roof. He only sang while doing hands-on work around the house, and believed me, it was bad. Really bad.” I paused. “From the outside, he looked fearless and always in control. He knew what he wanted, and no one could change his mind if he was set on something. But with me—and Cart—he showed that softer side of him. His vulnerability. And huge heart. He was smart, caring, hardworking. He struggled to find his place in this world. Somehow, even when we tried to include him as much as we could in the band, he felt like a third wheel. So, he decided to follow a path he thought to be his calling. War changed him, though. Jeff wasn’t cut for the army, and deep down I’m sure he knew it too. But he hoped to change things. To make the world a better place. In his own way.”

I breathed out with a tight smile.

“That’s pretty noble of him. How did you two happen?”

“One day, I was at his home, and he paraded in front of me, half-naked, still wet from his shower, only a towel wrapped low around his hips. He told me years later he had had a crush on me for years but had no idea how to tell me, so he came up with this idea to catch my attention. I was fifteen.”

“Did it work?”