Whiskey Lullaby

by Keren Hughes

  It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been able to listen to them without crying—and for some people, three years is a lifetime.

  Some say it’s better to have loved and lost, but they’re so very wrong…

  I can’t say I agree with that line. It’s better to have loved, to have been loved and lost it, than to have never felt love at all. If I’d never loved Angelo, my life wouldn’t have been so full, so happy. His love made me feel whole.

  My thoughts turn to this afternoon with Rhett. Should I have done what I did? Was it wrong to want to feel again? Did I only do it to stop me feeling numb? No. I did it because there’s this inexplicable, yet undeniable chemistry between us. I haven’t felt anything like it in a long time and I want to explore it. I don’t know how or when it will end. I know he has to leave eventually, but what if he didn’t have to? What if there was a reason for him to stay in my small corner of the world? Is that wishful thinking? Maybe.

  I wash myself and my hair—again—before standing to grab the towel I laid out. I wrap myself in it and step from the tub. Pulling the plug, I let the water drain while I dry myself off and get redressed.

  Sitting at my vanity, I comb through my hair and grab my hairdryer. Once I’m done, I apply a little makeup and pull my hair up in a ponytail. I find myself making a bit more effort, knowing I could bump into Rhett around any corner, thanks to living in a town this size.

  Before I know it, it’s time to fetch Hardin from school.

  “I got all the answers correct, Mummy,” he informs me as we talk about the maths questions they did at school.

  “That’s fantastic, baby.”

  “I got a star sticker from Miss Pearl. She said that I was the only one that got them all right.”

  “You don’t get your ability at maths from me then. I was rubbish at it. I still am.”

  “What was your favourite subject at school, Mummy?”

  “Oh, well, that would probably be English. I got an A star on my GCSE.”

  “What’s a GCSE, Mummy?” he asks, looking up at me with a puzzled expression.

  “It’s like a big test when you leave high school, sweetie.”

  “And is an A star good?”

  “It was the best score, yeah.”

  “I wonder if I’ll get an A star in maths.”

  “Well, the way they grade the tests has probably changed a lot since then, but I bet you’ll get the best score there is. But that’s only if you pay attention every day. You need to keep practising to get really good at something.”

  “I will, Mummy. I promise.”

  “Good boy.”

  “Are you at work tonight, Mummy?”

  “I am, baby. You’ll be staying with Nanny and Grandad and they’ll take you to school in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  He skips along the pavement as we walk home. Staying at my mum and dad’s he gets to sleep in what he calls a “big boy bed”. It’s a cabin bed that my mum bought him recently. He’s tried nagging me into getting him one for his room at home, but I don’t have the money saved at the moment. That’s another reason I want to get the job I interviewed for.

  Unfortunately, the waiting period is going to be about a month from the date of my interview. Niamh, the lady that interviewed me, said they’d get back to me whether I’m successful or not, so that I’m not left hanging. But she was super positive at the time.

  I won’t lie, I’d love to work for the company. It would be better money than just working in the pub, but it would also leave me with enough time to still put a few hours in at the pub each week without putting a strain on my time with Hardin. I don’t really want to leave The Lock, because Damien and Deb have become like family to me in the time I’ve been there, and I’d hate to have to give it up completely.

  We walk into the house and Hardin asks for a snack. I tell him that he needs to get changed out of his uniform first, so he runs upstairs to grab himself some clothes.

  While he does that, I grab some bread, the Nutella spread and a banana. I think it’s a weird combination and I’m not the keenest on bananas, but Hardin loves it. I pop the bread in the toaster.

  I soon hear footsteps coming back downstairs. I cut the toast into triangles before spreading the Nutella and slicing the banana to go on top.

  Hardin comes into the kitchen dressed in his favourite Curious George t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi, Mummy. I’m dressed. Can I get my snack now?”

  “You certainly can,” I say as I place the plate in front of him at the breakfast bar.

  “Yay,” he says as he claps his hands together.

  He climbs onto the stool and tucks into his favourite snack. The chocolate spread ends up around his mouth and his teeth are chocolatey as he smiles at me. He flashes sticky fingers at me before diving into the second piece.

  “You’ll need to brush your teeth before going to Nanny’s.”

  “Why?” he asks around a mouthful.

  “Don’t speak with your mouth full. You’ll have to brush them because they’ve gone all chocolatey.”

  He nods his head instead of answering me. Sometimes he forgets not to speak with food in his mouth. It’s a good job he’s only little and there’s time to instil it in him.

  ***

  It’s been a week and, unable to resist temptation, I’ve slept with Rhett another twice. He’s incredible in bed. There’s just something about the chemistry between us that I’ve been unable to resist. It’s like some gravitational pull between us.

  But it’s not just the mind-blowing sex. It’s the conversation and everything. He’s told me a bit about his family and his friends. I’ve told him more about Angelo, Hardin, and my other family members. It’s begun to feel like the start of a real relationship, and I’m not going to lie, I’m scared that I’ll be brought back down to earth with a bang when he inevitably leaves. I’m trying not to think about that day, but I’m a weird mix of optimist and pessimist. I’m realistic, but I try to remain hopeful. My head is definitely not in the clouds, unless it’s after an afternoon in Rhett’s arms, when he makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.

  I’ve seen him at the pub, and we’ve spent time together when we’re not in the pub and also not in bed. We’ve watched films, talked, laughed. He’s been back to my uncle Ted’s bookstore to buy rest of the series he’s reading, but he admitted he hasn’t had much time to read, since he’s been spending his free time with me.

  Unfortunately, neither Damien nor I have been successful in getting Rhett up on the karaoke since last week, which is a shame because from what I heard, he has an amazing voice.

  When I asked him why he said he couldn’t hold a tune, he said he’s shy about singing in public. I assured him he didn’t need to be, but even then, I couldn’t get him to agree to a repeat performance.

  Mum has noticed a change in me since the first time I spent the afternoon with Rhett. She asked if it was a man, and I didn’t want to jinx things between us by saying yes. I didn’t want to look a fool if it was a one-off thing, and now I don’t want to look like an idiot when he ultimately says goodbye and goes back to his real life.

  I’m getting ready to cook lunch for him, singing along—totally off-key—to a little bit of Luke Bryan. Damn, that man has an incredible voice, and he’s so handsome too.

  My ideal man would be a man who can sing and play an instrument—preferably guitar, but any instrument would do really, except maybe a brass instrument, that is.

  “Country Girl” plays, and I can’t help but shake it like Luke asks his country girl to. I must look like a fool, but having the house to myself, I couldn’t really give a damn.

  A knock at the door interrupts my dancing around like a loon. As I open the door, I’m greeted by a bouquet of flowers. Rhett lowers the flowers so I can see his handsome face. I feel a smile tug at my lips.

  “Hey gorgeous,” he says in that husky way of his.

  His voice is en
ough to turn my insides to liquid.

  “Afternoon, handsome.”

  “These are for you … obviously.” He hands me the bouquet and I notice an assortment of flowers. “I wasn’t sure of your favourite flower, so the florist helped me choose an arrangement for you. I hope they’re okay?”

  “They’re beautiful, Rhett, thank you so much. Come in. I’ll put them in water.”

  I inhale the beautiful scent of the flowers as we walk into the kitchen. I place them on the breakfast bar as I find a vase and fill it with water. It’s been so long since anyone bought me flowers. My mum makes a thing of getting me some from Hardin for Mother’s Day, but other than that, I haven’t been bought any for a long time.

  The flowers themselves come as a surprise, but it isn’t a surprise how sweet and thoughtful Rhett is.

  “Luke Bryan, huh?” he asks with a smile.

  “Yep. I do love a man who can sing, and boy, this man can really sing. Have you heard that song he covered with Jason Derulo?”

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “Oh, it’s awesome. Give me a second.”

  I grab my iPod and turn on the Wi-Fi so I can find the song on YouTube, considering they never actually released it together, which is a real shame. I would buy it in a heartbeat.

  “Want to Want Me” plays over my iPod dock and I use the control to turn the volume up. This song wasn’t meant to be played quietly.

  Rhett takes my hand and pulls me to him. Sliding his hands down over my dress, he grips my hips and sways me in time to the song. He smiles at me and I swear my heart beats so fast it’s like it’s trying to break free. He dips me as the song ends before pulling me up and claiming my lips in a sweet, but dizzying kiss. Jeez, could this man get any more perfect?

  No, Caleigh. You will not get attached. He’s leaving. This relationship or whatever the hell it is comes with an expiration date. I mentally chastise myself.

  “What’s for lunch?” he asks as he pulls back, allowing me to finally breathe.

  I don’t know what it is, but every time he kisses me, it’s like I forget to breathe, like he’s all that matters.

  “Rainbow beef salad with an Asian-inspired dressing. I hope you like steak. The recipe normally calls for it barbecued, but I don’t own a barbecue and I don’t really fancy going around to my parents’ place to use theirs.”

  “Sounds lovely. Depends how you cook your steak though.”

  “Medium-well,” we both say at the same time.

  “If you have it any other way, you’re a monster,” I say as I poke my tongue out at him.

  Seriously, though, I hadn’t particularly thought about how he’d want it cooked. I had a hard enough time trying to decide what to even cook in the first place.

  “And what makes it a rainbow salad,” he asks, air-quoting the word.

  “Just the pop of colour from things like the lettuce, radish, carrot, cucumber, tomato, avocado … Tomato isn’t actually in the recipe I found, but I love them, so I added cherry tomatoes.”

  “Cherry tomatoes?”

  His puzzled expression gives me a clue as to his complete lack of cooking skills. How on earth does this guy live on his own?

  “Yes, they’re little ones, like the size of a cherry, hence the name.”

  “Oh, that’s better than what I envisioned when you said that. Seriously, I had some kind of hybrid of a cherry and a tomato in mind, and that sounded revolting.”

  “Jeez Mr. Butler. How on earth are you a bachelor?”

  “Well, takeaway, good friends who have girlfriends that don’t mind cooking for my sorry ass. Umm … my mum brings me by a lasagne or shepherd’s pie or something once a week.”

  I crack up laughing as he lists all these people that do it all for him.

  “You don’t cook at all?”

  “Well, I have been known to burn beans on toast. But I can cook scrambled eggs in the microwave.”

  “The microwave?” I interrupt his answer.

  “Yeah. How else are you supposed to cook them?”

  “Rhett Butler, I swear, I will make it my mission to convert you by teaching you how to cook them properly before you leave.”

  My heart squeezes like it’s in a vice as I speak that last word.

  “And how, pray tell, does one cook them properly.”

  Again, with the air-quoting of words. It’s a good job he’s so darn cute.

  “In a saucepan, of course.”

  “A microwave works for me.”

  “Well that’s because you haven’t had them any other way. Boy, I can see I have a lot to teach you. They taste much better done my way.”

  “I won’t argue with you. I’m sure you’re right. But whether or not you’ll convert me to cooking them your way in future is yet to be determined.”

  “Fine, come for breakfast in the morning and I’ll give you a demonstration.”

  “It’s a date. Now, about lunch …”

  “What about it? Don’t tell me you don’t like avocado; that might be a deal-breaker.”

  “I was just wondering,” he says as he comes and wraps his arms around my waist, “whether”—he peppers my neck with kisses—“you might reconsider cooking.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I thought that”—he kisses up the other side of my neck to my earlobe and bites—“we could have dessert first?”

  “Oohhh.”

  I am so dumb sometimes. And I’d be lying if I said his suggestion wasn’t appealing.

  “So, what do you say?”

  He ghosts a kiss over my lips, and I have to wrap my arms around his neck to stop him from breaking the kiss.

  “I’d ask if I can think about it,” I reply with a smirk.

  I take his hand and lead him to the stairs. He smacks my ass with his free hand, and I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t want him to do that again when I’m naked.

  Chapter Eight

  Brent

  Every time I see Caleigh, it’s harder to hear her call me by my stupid assumed name. She was screaming out my name only minutes ago, but what I wouldn’t give to hear her call me by my real name, Brent Lachlan Ryder.

  I feel like an utter asshole for lying to her, but I came to this town for anonymity, and it’s worked well for me with everyone but her. I want her to know who I really am. I don’t know whether she’s heard of the band, but if I tell her who I am, I’m going to have to tell her why I lied. She’s a really great woman, but would she understand? I’d like to hope so.

  “Earth to Rhett,” Caleigh says as she waves a hand in front of my face.

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “I just asked if you fancied a shower before finally eating lunch.”

  “It depends on whether I’m allowed to make you dirtier before you get clean.”

  She smiles that heart-warming smile of hers and I feel like I’m a goner. Hook, line and sinker. But I can’t be. It’s impossible. I didn’t come here to start anything and when we did, I always knew this … relationship—is that the right word?—came with an expiration date. But my racing heart would beg to differ.

  “And just how would you do that?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Let me show you,” I reply as I part her legs and climb in between them.

  Her eyes light up as I move further south. If there’s one thing we haven’t done in our time together before now, it’s oral.

  It’s not because I haven’t wanted to, rather because we’ve both been too impatient, and she’s always been so wet from just kissing or me using my fingers. I didn’t know it was possible to get a woman so aroused from merely kissing until I met Caleigh, but now I’m learning anything is possible.

  I slide further down the bed and pepper a trail of kisses from her naval down. Using just my thumb on her clit, I feel her legs start to quiver. It’s easy to make her squirm like this after we’ve already had sex. That much I do know from time spent with her.

  We may have only spent a couple
of afternoons together so far properly—not counting the time we’ve spent in the pub or the times we’ve just talked or chilled with a film—but in that time, I’ve learned that after her first orgasm, she’s easily aroused again.

  I plan to use this to my advantage as I lick her in long, languid strokes. Her breathy moans are a turn on, and I look up to see her looking at me through a hooded gaze.

  As I suck her clit, I hear her panting and it only stokes the fire burning within me. Fuck, this woman is just incredible.

  Her hands come to my hair as I part her with my fingers and lick her once more. I look up to see her back arching off the bed and I watch as her pert breasts move up and down with her breathing.

  “Fuck, Rhett,” she whispers as I suckle her clit before licking her again.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Make me come, I’m begging you.”

  “Begging? But I’ve only just begun.”

  “And I can barely … take it.”

  She has to pause when I use the opportunity to slide a finger inside her. Fuck, she’s so hot and wet. I can feel my cock getting hard again. It’s a good job I went and bought condoms when I was in Pedmore the other day. I couldn’t buy them from the local store—I’d have the locals whispering about who I’m sleeping with—so I made sure to stock up while there wasn’t anyone around to care.

  “Caleigh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hold on tight, baby.”

  I withdraw my finger and replace it with my tongue. Her cries are enough guidance to know she’s enjoying it.

  Rubbing my thumb over her clit, I make her squirm in the most delightful way possible. She tugs on my hair and it spurs me on. It also gives me an idea. I take her hand from my hair and guide it down to her pussy.

  “Play with your clit, baby. Let me watch as you squirm.”

  “Fuck!” she cries, and she slowly circles her clit while I bury my tongue inside her once more.

  God if I died today, I’d go a seriously fucking happy man. But not until I’ve chased her orgasm, followed by another of my own.

  ***