by Rye Hart
But not now. Not now that I was with Drake.
With Drake there, home meant protection. A comfort. A relaxing environment. Home was sloppy morning kisses and sweet tea on the porch. Home was dinner with Elsie and Tammy and Paul. Home was waking up before the sun just to make love with Drake before he got sweaty on the farm.
Home was then peeling those sweaty clothes off and tasting the saltiness of his skin.
Home was so many things I could never have imagined with him, and as the phone rang in my ear, tears sprang to my eyes.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Drake said.
“Hey, Drake,” I said, with a sniffle.
“Delia. What’s wrong? Where are you? I’m grabbin’ my keys now, you just stay put—
“I’m fine Drake. I thought I’d bring dinner home tonight,” I said.
Silence descended on the other end of the line as that word hung heavily in the air between us.
“Home?” Drake asked.
“Yeah. Figured I could drive through somewhere. Pick up some pizza or some burgers. Bring them home for us to eat,” I said.
“Home.”
“Yes,” I said. “Home. You know, to your house.”
I heard him chuckle on the other end of the line before he drew in a deep breath.
“I’m actually in the middle of cookin’ us some dinner,” he said.
“And you were just gonna abandon ship and run out the door?” I asked.
“Yeah, if you were in trouble, without a second thought.”
My stomach did flips as I relaxed into my seat and smiled.
“You cooking dinner actually sounds mighty nice,” I said, with a grin. “I’ll be home soon.”
“I’ll see you when you get—home,” Drake said.
Then I hung up the phone, started up the car, and drove home as fast as I could.
CHAPTER 39
Drake
The standing room concert venue was riddled with tables and chairs. In a standing room, the Mercy Lounge could hold one thousand guests. But I didn’t want people standing for my entire concert. I had a pregnant girlfriend who would need to sit, and I was sure there would be others who wouldn’t appreciate having to stand for an hour with a drink in their hand. So I rented tables and chairs and made sure the bar was ready to have servers on standby for the people who were coming to the concert.
But the best thing of all was Delia and her presence. She was at a table in the back corner with Stacy. Or Cindy. Or whatever the hell that woman’s name was. The woman she always talked about at work. The advice-giver. The one that reminded her of a mom even though she had Delia’s fire in her eyes. They were having their girl time and enjoying food before the concert, picking at things and sipping on brightly-colored drinks. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How happy she was and how beautifully she was dressed. She had on this pair of boots I’d bought her, with turquoise and pink decorative detail riding up the sides. And the dress she had on clung to her bosom in a way that made me salivate as I stared at her from backstage.
Delia was excited to introduce me to her friend. I hated that I couldn't remember her name, but in my defense, I could hardly remember anyone’s name. I fucking called Hank ‘Henry’ for the first two months he managed me.
The only person’s name I had ever committed to memory right off the bat was Delia’s.
Delia’s friend had been warm and down to earth when I met her. Full of life and very compelling. I could see why Delia regarded her as a mother figure, and I was glad she had someone like that in her life now. She needed that influence. That motherly advice that bordered on ‘let’s get real.’ Especially with what she was going through. She was blossoming with a life growing in her body and was changing in so many ways. Women needed their mothers during this time—during pregnancy and childbirth.
I was really glad she had someone like Sidney.
Sadie?
Fuck.
It was time for me to come out on stage and a warm applause was given. Delia and her coworker were both on their feet, as was the rest of the room. Drinks were high in the air as Hank glared at me from backstage. This was my first performance in a place like this, surrounded by alcohol, the substance that had almost taken my life from me. He kept telling me this was a bad idea. Telling me that I wasn’t ready to perform in a venue like this.
But I told him I would be okay, and I would be as long as Delia was there. She was my strength. My rock. The reminder I needed as to why I was traveling this journey in the first place. I scanned the crowd and saw all the beers dripping with a condensation I could feel on my fingertips. I found Delia’s face in the crowd, and saw the worry reflected there. I could see her eyes counting all the drinks in the air as I stood there, waiting for her gaze to return to me.
Then when she found me again, I threw her a simple wink.
I did my first two songs and could tell the fans were really liking this softer side. Just me, my guitar, and a part-time drummer I had hired for a couple of numbers. He sat on this weird little box thing and had a soft rhythm going through a few of the numbers that were a little more upbeat. It was something I’d tried hiring Landon to do, but neither he nor Stone were picking up the phone for me right now.
I figured it was probably for the best.
The fans swayed and those who were sitting held the hands of the people they’d come with. Delia’s friend held her hand, providing comfort to the woman I loved, who I knew was worrying over me. I strummed my guitar and kept my eyes on her, trying to feed from the strength she had no idea she gave me. I allowed myself the time to breathe her in, even though she was all the way across the room—tucked away in a dark corner to try and give other people a chance to be nearer to me.
It came to the end of my second song and I felt a sort of inspiration come over me. Inspiration I hadn’t felt since I’d first started this journey as a musical artist. I turned toward my hired drummer and waved him off, keeping him from ushering in the third song of the set.
I had something I wanted to say. Something I wanted the crowd at this concert to know.
“I wanna thank y’all for comin,’ tonight,” I said, as I slung my guitar around to my back. “It’s uh—it’s been awhile since I’ve performed in a place like this. This is the types of venue I started performing in when I was still gettin’ my name out. But these are also places that are forbidden for people like myself. People who struggle with things like I do.”
Scanning the crowd, I found Delia’s eyes, her brows stitched together in confusion.
“Before we get into more of my set, I wanna tell y’all a story. A story that’s near and dear to my heart. A story that changed my life. I think it’s appropriate, especially with findin’ my roots again like I’ve been doin’ these days.”
I tossed Delia another wink before my eyes scanned the crowd again.
“This story is about a woman. A stubborn little woman who found herself at the side of a broken man. She was a bright, shining beacon of innocence and hope, and this man? Well, he was drownin’ in the river of bourbon. This stubborn woman, with her powerful voice and her tiny little frame, came swoopin’ in on a job she had no business bein’ employed to. He threw everythin’ at her to get her to quit. Shovelin’ shit outta stalls and tryin’ to repair tractors. Workin’ up a sweat by doin’ all sorts of things her job didn’t require. And when that didn’t work, he turned to flirtin’ with her. Crossin’ that forbidden line his manager told him he didn’t need to be crossin.’ Figured an innocent little light like hers would flicker and fade the moment he got his hands on her. But it didn’t. She didn’t.”
I drew in a deep breath as the crowd focused on my every word.
“This stubborn little woman and that broken man went through a lot. Poisonin,’ fightin,’ arguin,’ and tryin’ to figure one another out. And in all of that turmoil and all that—that bullshit, somehow that shinin’ beacon of hope and that broken, dark man somehow found love again. This beautiful woman and the
man she took in somehow found a home with one another, even though they were both frightened of what a home would bring. Both had experienced great loss in their homes. Great trials and great—amounts of—well—shit,” I said.
The crowd chuckled while some held their beers up to cheer on what I was saying.
“But they found one another,” I said. “And they clung to each other. Even though rehab, hesitations, and fears separated them, that broken man was prepared to pursue her to the ends of the earth. And when that stubborn woman decided to let her light shine instead of tryin’ to snuff it out, somethin’ wonderful happened. Uh, yeah—whoever’s runnin’ the lights, could you toss one over to the back right corner? Yep. Right there. Thanks.”
The spotlight illuminated Delia as tears streamed down her face. Everyone turned to take her in, watching her shoulders shake as she cradled her growing stomach. I felt my hands beginning to shake with nerves as I slid my hand into my pocket. I pulled out my momma’s wedding ring, a ruby in the center, surrounded by diamonds. I looked down at it as the crowd gasped, and I knew this was it.
This was the moment I had been waiting for.
“I want y’all to know that I fell in love with that stubborn woman. Despite the darkness that consumed me and the addiction that threatened to tear my damn world apart, it’s her light that keeps me focused. It’s her light that keeps me on track. Without her—without you, Delia—I know for certain I’d be dead.”
I heard a quiet sob escape Delia’s lips as I got down on one knee on stage.
“Delia Jakobson, you saved my life. The doctors said it, Hank said it, and now I’m sayin’ it. There’s some old sayin’ or whatever that explains a very basic truth—that no one understands the kind of darkness they’re walkin’ through until a light shines on their path. I had no idea of the darkness I’d allowed to surround me until your light tried to penetrate through it. It took a long time, but it found me. Your light found this stubborn, broken man, and it is your light that drew him away from that darkness. Delia—mother of my child—will you marry me?”
I heard boots rattling across the floor as Delia’s body appeared in my vision. I jumped up from my knee just in time to catch her in my arms. I swung her around on stage, feeling her tears of joy soaking my neck as she held me tightly. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, not bothering to hear her answer as I dropped her down to her feet.
Her hands gripped my shirt and tugged me toward her, our lips colliding fiercely as my hand founds hers. I slipped the ring onto her finger, our tongues dancing like licks of fire before I intertwined our fingers.
“Yes,” Delia said, into my lips. “I’ll marry your stubborn ass.”
Delia held her ringed hand up in the air and the crowd started drumming on the floor with their boots. I pulled her into me one last time, feeling the warmth and curves of her body against me. I drew in more of her strength. Drank in more of her light. I dipped my nose into the crook of her neck just so I could take one last breath of her. I felt her trembling against me. Shaking as he clung to me tightly.
Whistles, applause, whoops and hollers roared around the room as I held her close.
“I love you, Delia,” I said, into her ear.
“I love you, too, Drake. I love you so much.”
I led her back to her seat before I started in on my set. I played through the rest of my songs, with one moving right into another. People were dancing with smiles on their faces and holding their drinks in the air and swaying. Every once in a while, I caught Delia dabbing at her eyes, shaking her head. I sang my songs to her. I kept her in my vision for the rest of the concert. Delia was more than an average woman. She was a force to be reckoned with. A light desperate to shine in the darkness of the world. A mountain of laughs, an exploding volcano of desire, and an endless treasure trove of surprises and twists. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t learn something new about her, or a morning I woke up when I didn’t reach for her.
She had etched herself into my life—permanently.
And now, I was going to make her my bride.
I finished up my set with my ears ringing. The crowd was cheering harder and louder than I’d ever heard before. Louder than the grand stadiums I’d packed when I was drinking, and louder than the throngs of fans that chased after my tour bus. I took my bucket hat off and tossed it into the crowd, smiling at the voices of women squealing and shrieking as one of them caught it.
But the only voice I could hear was the one rising up from the back. The one voice that was screaming just a little louder than the rest.
“I love you, Drake!” Delia yelled.
I wasn’t gonna yell it back to her, though. Instead, I would whisper it in her ear as I took her in my bed. I would pepper it along the nape of her neck as I pressed her against the wall. I would murmur it into her pussy folds as I sat her on my face. I vowed to myself that I would do all these things. I would do whatever I could to make sure Delia knew she was loved and cherished.
And I vowed to murmur those sentiments in her ear as she fell asleep against me every night for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 40
Delia
I hugged Stacia after the performance, before I went to find Drake. We were heading back to his house, a place I now felt comfortable calling home.
Our home, where we would share our lives and raise our child.
“So, I was thinking.”
“About what?” Drake asked.
“My apartment.”
I felt Drake’s hand squeeze mine tightly, the fear of my next words obvious in his movements.
“It seems sort of a waste, doesn’t it?” I asked. “You know, paying rent and bills for a place I’m hardly at anymore.”
I looked over at Drake and saw his eyes connected with the road in front of him. His hand was still gripping mine tightly and his gaze was unwavering. He was holding something back. I knew he was.
So I figured I would have to take the first step with this.
“What if I moved some more of my things in?” I asked. “What would you think about that?”
“You really wanna know what I think?” he asked.
“Of course I do.”
“I think I should’ve hired movers to get your stuff weeks ago.”
I giggled as I scooted over in his truck and placed a kiss against his cheek.
“We could put your furniture in storage. Or redo one of the unused rooms. We could make it your own personal space. Put your television in there and your laptop. Make it your place to retreat from everything when you need it,” Drake said.
“All I need is you,” I said.
“And a place to get away from me when life becomes too much.”
“Which is code for ‘when you become a dick,’ right?”
“Hey, I ain’t perfect.”
“But you’re perfect for me,” I said.
We rolled into his driveway with my hands massaging his thigh. I wanted to feel him. To hear his need for me and feel his body against mine. He threw the truck into park and pulled me into his lap, my paunch pressing into his abdomen. My lips were all over him. His neck, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. Our tongues battled as his arms drew me closer to him. My breasts pressed into the swell of his chest and I could feel his muscles flexing for my pleasure. Showing off the strength of his body as I ground down onto his hips.
“Thank you,” I said, breathlessly.
“For what, beautiful?”
I rose up and looked into his eyes as my hand cupped the stubble on his cheek.
“For not giving up on me,” I said.
“Hon, it was you who didn’t give up on me.”
“You kept pursuing me. Even when I walked out of my own apartment and left you there, you didn’t stop. Thank you for not stopping.”
That signature grin of his crept across his cheeks as his lips reached for mine again.
“Well I’m no quitter, sweetheart. You’re stuck with this stubborn fool,” he
said.
“As long as you realize I’m just as stubborn, I think we’ll be all right.”
“Our neighbors might not like us with some of our fights, but they’ll really hate us with our apologies.”
“Ooooh—is that a challenge, Mr. Blackthorn?”
“Nope.”
He cupped the back of my head and drew my lips into his, our heads tilting as our tongues intertwined once more.
“That’s a promise, soon to be Mrs. Blackthorn.”
I smiled, giggling into his lips as I drew in a deep breath. I nuzzled my nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled like his cologne. The earthy scent of a man coupled with his own musk that trickled through his deodorant. I buried myself into his body as he held me, rocking us side to side as his truck settled with its creaks and groans.
“When do you wanna call the movers?” I asked.
“Yesterday,” Drake said.
“I’m being serious,” I said, with a giggle.
“So am I. But, if you want a realistic timeframe, we could call ‘em tomorrow. Have your stuff in here before you set off to work again on Monday.”
“I’m glad you’re not fighting me on that anymore. I love working there.”
“What does Sophie do again?” he asked.
“Stacia?”
“Cindy?”
“Stacia, Drake,” I said.
“You mean Savannah.”
“Now you’re being a dick. Where’s that room I was promised?”
His chuckle filled my ears as his stubble nuzzled into my neck. I fell apart in a fit of laughter, feeling him leaning hard against his truck door. He gathered me up in his arms and slid from the truck, my body leaning against his frame as he kicked the door shut. He walked me up to the porch and I dug his house keys from his pocket, making a show of massaging his thigh as a groan escaped from his lips.
