by Holly Rayner
The left side of his lip turned upward. She’d seen this crooked smile before. A dimple emerged on his left cheek, but not his right. She wondered if it had something to do with the plastic surgery he’d had. She realized that she loved his crooked smile.
She nodded. “Yes, I’d love to go to the prom with you, Sean.”
He chuckled. “It’s a little bit late for that,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “But I’m pretty darn amazed that you kept this around.” He held up the paper.
She nodded. “I never knew about the note inside, you know.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head. “After we talked about that art class, I looked through my boxes of keepsakes and found this crane. I caught sight of some writing, so I opened it up. It was the first time I saw your message.”
“So you never even knew that I asked you out?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“I thought you ignored the question—I figured you thought you were way out of my league.”
She shook her head. “I just never knew you asked. And you know what? I really wish I’d known, because I think I might have said yes.”
“Really?”
She nodded. She turned and leaned against the railing that formed a barrier between the river and the walkway.
She eyed Sean. “You know how you talked about being in a kind of trance when you were a teenager? Like you were just going through the motions, doing the things you thought you had to do without ever really making even one choice for yourself?”
He nodded.
“Well, I guess I was the same. I was on this certain track, you know? I was the valedictorian, a cheerleader… one of the popular girls. I had to look a certain way, dress a certain way, even talk a certain way. I had to get the right grades, listen to the right music, wear the right designer miniskirts.”
She shook her head with embarrassment.
“I even had to date the right guys.”
She looked him right in the eye as she said this. She wanted to apologize for going to the prom with Jake instead of him. At the same time, she didn’t want to bring Jake Millhouse into the conversation.
Sean nodded slowly. “Yeah… I get that,” he said.
She felt her message had been successfully delivered.
“It wasn’t until I was out of college that I started to figure out who I really was,” she said. “You know—what I liked and didn’t like, how I wanted to dress, who I wanted to be around. All of that.
“I remember the first time I made enough money to buy some clothes that I really liked. I went to a feed and tackle store and bought the toughest pair of dungarees that I could find—ones with double-panel knees so I could kneel in the mud without getting soaked through, and pockets deep enough to hold medications for my vet visits.”
Delaney laughed. “Maybe that was the first real choice I ever made—when I bought that pair of overalls.”
“And has it stuck with you?” Sean asked. “That ability to make choices?”
She recognized that he was asking her the same question she’d asked him not two hours before.
She nodded. “Absolutely,” she said.
“And you’re choosing to be here with me now?” he said softly.
She stepped away from the rail, so she was standing closer to him.
“Sure am,” she said. “And you know what? I don’t think it’s too late for us to go to prom together. It would just be our own version of prom. I found the program in that box of keepsakes I was looking through. It lists the senior class song and everything.”
“It does?” Sean said.
She nodded and met his eye. “Maybe, instead of going out to one of these places for a nightcap, we should go to my place and finally have that dance we should have had fifteen years ago.”
There was a sparkle in Sean’s eye. Delaney sensed immediately that he liked the idea. She knew his answer even before he nodded.
Within a few minutes, they’d hailed a cab. They chatted about high school memories as the cab swept them through the city and toward Delaney’s apartment.
Delaney led the way up the narrow wooden staircase that led up to her second-story unit.
Though she knew Sean was worth billions and lived in a mansion, she didn’t feel at all self-conscious about her small apartment. She knew that Sean had experienced both sides of the wealth spectrum. He’d been poor and rich, and her humble living situation wasn’t going to shock him or arouse pity.
She was pleased as he complimented the space. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey, poured two drinks, and then led him to the living room.
“You won’t believe what our class song was,” she said as she thumbed through the music app on her phone, and then it plugged into a speaker on one of her living room shelves.
The first chords of the song reverberated through the speakers.
Sean sat back on the couch and took a sip of his whiskey as a guitar melody started up.
Delaney watched for signs of recognition. Finally, it hit him.
“Really? ‘Black Horse Blues’ was our class song?” he said with disbelief. He shook his head. “No way. This was one of the worst country songs ever produced. Who picked this one?”
“We voted,” Delaney said. “Maybe you were too busy knocking over mailboxes to put in your two cents.”
“I guess so,” he said with a laugh as he removed his blazer and settled back into the couch.
She eyed him and then gave him a teasing smile.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she said. “You’re looking too comfortable on the couch there, mister.”
She reached for his free hand and pulled him up to his feet as he protested.
“Are we really going to dance?” he said. “I thought you were joking!”
“Oh, we’re really going to dance,” she said. “Come on, just like high school prom.”
He set down his glass as he stood and laughed as she led him out to an open space in the little living room.
“Remember the way everyone danced back then?” she asked.
She guided his hands to her hips, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He chuckled. “And now we just sway side to side, right?”
“Lots of swaying,” Delaney said, with a mock-serious nod. “And if it’s at an entirely different rhythm than the song, that’s even better.”
She moved her body out of sync with the song, and Sean followed suit. The bluesy country song ramped up into a particularly plaintive chorus.
Sean cringed. “Seriously? Of all the songs to pick from… this was the one.”
Delaney started singing along. “And then the road keeps rambling on without you… Without you…”
Sean chimed in, and Delaney could barely dance, she was laughing so hard, as Sean added his own cheesy lyrics to the already cheesy song.
“And then my grandma died, and I had to bury my dog out back… without you… without you…” he finished. “Whew! Now that’s the blues.”
Delaney was breathless with laughter. “The way you sing it, it really is. But even without the upgraded lyrics, I think that might be the most terrible country song ever.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How much do you want to bet?”
“How about fifty cents?” she said, propping a hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes at him as if she was driving a hard bargain.
“Oh!” he sucked in some air. “High roller, I see. Okay, little lady, you’re on. Fifty cents says I can play you a worse song than that.”
She reached for her phone and handed it to him.
“You’re on,” she said.
She sipped her whiskey while she waited for it to play. When the song came on, she had trouble swallowing before bursting into laughter.
“I forgot about that one!” she said, as the mix of country and rap started blaring through the speakers.
She started moving her body to the beat.
“Oh wow, this is really bad,” sh
e said with a laugh. He danced along with her.
“Wait for it…” he said with a grin. A rap chorus kicked in, and they both burst out laughing.
“I think you owe me two quarters,” he said as the song ended.
Delaney headed for her phone. “That may have beat out ‘Black Horse Blues’ for worst country song of a decade and a half ago, but I have a new bet for you. Fifty cents says I can find the sappiest country song.”
“You’re on.”
Delaney watched Sean out of the corner of her eye as she scrolled through a list of hits. He sipped his drink, and then unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. He was dressed in dark slacks and a button-up dress shirt that was icy blue, almost white. He’d worn a blazer to dinner, which was now laid across a couch pillow beside him.
He looked so good, she had trouble focusing on the list of songs in front of her. Finally, she found one that she felt suited her purposes. She hit play.
“I don’t know if you remember this one,” she said. “But it was really popular our junior year. At the homecoming dance, I think it was requested over a dozen times.”
Sean listened for a minute. Then, he set down his drink and approached Delaney.
“I remember this one,” he said. “Delaney Summers, can I have this dance?”
“I don’t know if I should,” Delaney joked. “I have a curfew, you know.”
“That’s right,” Sean said. He stepped in closer. “Let’s break up your routine, Miss Valedictorian. Stay up late with me. Break that self-imposed curfew, why don’t you?”
He was so near, and his voice was so deep that she could feel it hum in her chest. She wanted to continue joking, but she found she was speechless. All she could do was nod and let Sean take her hand.
He led her out to the open space in the living room. Before they started dancing, he switched off the overhead light. Only a small lamp remained on, by her couch.
“Is that okay?” he asked as he returned to her.
“Perfect,” she said quietly.
He placed one hand gently on her hip, just above the waistline of her skirt. She felt the heat of his rough palm through the thin, lacy material of her top. He pulled her in closer and reached for her hand.
He held her fingers gently in his and moved perfectly in time with the music. She felt lost in the pleasure of being held in his strong arms. He smelled like a subtle, woodsy cologne and just a hint of freshly cut hay. His chest was broad and muscular. She leaned her head against it, and he pulled her closer.
She could sense his whole body, so close to hers. She forgot all about making fun of the song, and simply lost herself in the sensation of moving to the music along with him. When the song ended, she looked up at him.
She wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss; all she knew was that they moved toward one another until her lips touched his. She felt his hand move along her hip to the small of her back. He swept her up against him, and she was overcome with a need for him.
His kiss grew more passionate, and she met his passion with a desire that welled up from deep within her. In synch, they moved toward her bedroom.
Delaney was consumed by her need for Sean; she forgot all else. As he lowered her onto her bed, she felt as though she was the luckiest woman in the world.
Chapter 11
Delaney
Delaney awoke to the feeling of breath, warm on her cheek. At first, she thought it was Mr. Butters. With eyes closed, she started to roll over so that she could pet her needy kitty. As she began to roll, she felt the weight of an arm across her torso.
An arm. A heavy, human arm—not the slight, furry limb of her usual sleeping companion.
The breath was not coming from Mr. Butters.
The events of the evening before poured into her consciousness. She opened her eyes and saw Sean’s tanned, muscular forearm draped over her. She could feel his naked chest behind her, under the sheets, and more of him below that. A lot more of him—all bare, except for his briefs.
She opened her eyes wide and immediately, her whole body tensed. The gorgeous Sean Macintyre, her handsome, kind, cowboy crush, was in bed with her! And they’d been so intimate the night before—again and again, and again.
She wasn’t sure what to do. It had been ages since she’d had a guy over to spend the night.
Delaney felt suddenly self-conscious. She was afraid that if she moved too much, she’d wake him. Then, he would see her—and she was sure she looked like a big old mess. Surely her eye makeup was smudged, her hair was probably tangled, and how was her breath?
Maybe if I move really, really slowly, I can make it out of here without waking him, she thought.
She moved an inch to the side. His breathing was steady in her ear. He was asleep.
That’s it… she thought, as she gently slid over to the side, out from under the weight of his arm. Almost there… almost… She slipped out from under his arm and breathed a sigh of relief.
Made it, she thought. Now, I’ll just go freshen up before he wakes—
“Meow!” Mr. Butters, who she now saw was not on the bed but rather on the bedroom floor, emitted the loud sound as he pounced with gusto on the pile of material that was Sean’s slacks.
Reflexively, Delaney looked over her shoulder at Sean. He opened his eyes and squinted slightly due to the bright light. Then, he saw Delaney and grinned.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he said in his deep drawl.
His gaze turned to the cat, who was now kneading at the slacks on the floor. The sound of the fabric ripping beneath Mr. Butters’ claws filled the otherwise silent room.
“Does he have some kind of vendetta against my pants?” Sean asked.
Delaney stood and hurried over to the slacks. She scooped up Mr. Butters.
“That’s naughty,” she said. “That’s not your toy.” She picked up a small stuffed mouse off of one of her chairs. “Here’s your mousie. Play with that instead.”
She forgot all about her lack of clothing as she returned to the bed, but when she saw Sean’s appreciative look, she remembered. Before her self-consciousness could return, Sean spoke up.
“Maybe he’s jealous that I got to spend the night at your side.” There was a twinkle of playfulness in his eye.
She had to laugh. “I’m sure he is,” she said. “He usually sleeps on that side of the bed.”
“Mr. Butters,” Sean called, as he rolled over and patted the comforter. “Here you go, my man, you can come up here, too. Sorry to take your spot.”
Delaney shook her head. “He won’t even think about coming up to bed at this hour. The sun’s up, and he’s probably ready for breakfast. He likes to stick to a pretty strict feeding schedule.”
She eyed her cat, who was batting the mouse across the floor.
“Isn’t that right, my little man?” she asked. He looked up and blinked at her.
Sean laughed. “You talk to him as though he’s going to talk right back.”
“Sometimes he does,” Delaney said. “Don’t you?” she asked her cat.
He gave a long, drawn-out yowl, and Sean and Delaney burst out laughing simultaneously.
“Sounds like he’s going to stage a revolt if he doesn’t get his breakfast,” Sean said. “I’m pretty famished, myself. Last night worked up quite an appetite.”
He got up out of bed and crossed the room to where Delaney was standing. He gave her a warm embrace and a gentle kiss.
“Last night was amazing,” he said, while looking right into her eyes.
She nodded.
Maybe this isn’t so bad, she thought. Sean was helping her feel comfortable.
She smiled. “I’m going to hop in the shower, and then fix up breakfast for Mr. Butters here, and maybe a cup of coffee.”
She waited to see what he might say. Would he give an excuse to leave right away? Was he eager to get out of her apartment?
“What kind of coffee setup do you have? I can get that started while you shower,” he said with a grin
. Then, he gave her another soft kiss, this time on the cheek.
She felt so flustered and happy about his response that she could barely answer. Her whole body responded to his closeness. It was hard to keep her eyes from dropping down to his toned, tan chest, and his six-pack abs. His shoulders were cut, his arms rippled with muscles that made her remember how good it had felt to be held by him the night before.
“Just a regular old electric coffee pot,” she managed finally. “Nothing fancy. I keep the beans in a little blue canister to the left of it, and there’s a grinder just beside that.”
“Got it,” he said. “Want me to feed Mr. Butters, too?”
They both glanced down at the cat, who was now glaring at Sean.
Delaney laughed. “I actually don’t know if he’d let you. He really loves his food, but that look…”
“It’s a death stare, all right,” Sean said. He chuckled. “I’ll let you handle his feeding. I’ll stick to the coffee.”
“Perfect,” Delaney said.
She hummed a tune while she showered; the hot, steamy water did wonders for the slight headache she had, and she felt refreshed and ready for the day by the time she finished up and got dressed.
When she entered the kitchen, Sean handed her a steaming cup of coffee.
“Here you go, darlin’,” he said. “I hope it’s how you like it.”
“Strong?” Delaney asked.
“Very,” Sean said.
She sipped. It was rich and bold and so saturated with the weight of the coffee that it almost felt thick on her tongue. She grinned.
“Oh, yeah,” she said as soon as she swallowed.
“That’s how I like it, too,” he said.
Delaney eyed the fridge. “I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but I must have some bread and butter in there… I could make us some toast?”
“Or, we could go out to eat,” he suggested. “I hear there’s a nice local diner around here that knows how to walk the fine line between just enough grease and too much.” He winked at her.
She laughed. “That there is,” she said.
She was flattered that Sean wanted to continue spending time with her, and remembered her small comment about the diner. A part of her felt slightly guilty about spending the night with him. Had that been his intention all along? Had he been hoping to go to bed with her, and now he’d just check her off of his list of conquests?