Whiskey Girl

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Whiskey Girl Page 16

by Adriane Leigh


  Short of losing Augusta Belle, losing my lifeline—the music—sounded like another idea of hell.

  But could I lose my boy?

  Jack’s eyes searched the still waters, worry lacing his features before Augusta surfaced just out of reach of him, hair soaked down the length of her back, triumphant smile on her face.

  “Dude, how did you hold your breath that long?” Jack looked up at the woman who’d birthed him, displaying the same rebel twinkle, upturned nose dotted with a spray of sweet freckles, deep brown eyes, and honey hair.

  There was no doubt on the planet that he was hers.

  “You’ve just got to practice. Even a few minutes every day can help build your lung capacity, and that’s the key to outracing the competition.” She pushed a hand through his wet hair.

  “Holding your breath?” He ducked away, splashing her as he did.

  “Nope.” She splashed him back. “Practicin’.” She splashed again, then turned, eyes set on me.

  I held up my arms, shaking my head before she used both hands to paddle as much water my way as she could muster. Jack joined in, and before long, I was soaked to the core, pullin’ off my shirt and divin’ in after them. Jack laughed when I launched more water his way, before ducking and paddlin’ away.

  “That boy can swim too.” I stopped as soon as he was out of earshot.

  Augusta Belle snaked her arm around my waist, leaning her head against my chest as she sighed. “He’s the sweetest, smartest, most sarcastic human I’ve ever met.” She twined her fingers with mine. “Next to you.”

  I grinned, about to grace her forehead with a kiss when a tsunami from hell caught me by surprise and an evil little laugh cackled just out of my reach.

  “He’s definitely his mother’s kid,” I hummed under my breath before launching into the water and swimming toward Jack.

  Augusta was hot on my tail, teaming up with Jack to soak me to the bones for the rest of the afternoon.

  The very best time of my life.

  * * *

  “So, you’re tellin’ me I don’t have any grandparents left?” Jack asked, dribbles of watermelon still dripping off his chin as we finished what was left of our picnic.

  “Well…” Augusta put an arm around Jack, ruffling the short spikes of his new haircut, something “cool” for baseball, he’d requested. “Life can be unfair sometimes, buddy.”

  His eyes tracked from mine across the picnic table to Calvin’s and then finally landed on Augusta’s. “But I don’t understand. Dad showed me that picture. I had a grandpa, he knew about me.”

  I swallowed the burn blazing a trail down my throat. I wished I had something to tell him, some consolation for the fact that sometimes people just weren’t nice. That was all I could ever come up with to explain the awfulness of the world anyway.

  “I don’t know why he chose to do what he did, Jack,” Augusta finally offered.

  “I bet not a day went by he didn’t regret it, son. And what have we always told you?” Calvin’s eyes held steady on Jack’s.

  “That sometimes people just aren’t ready to raise a baby,” Jack recited.

  I chewed on my bottom lip, wishing I had more to give. “It’s true, Jack,” I finally murmured. “Augusta Belle and I, well, we weren’t in any place to have a baby. And maybe life coulda been different, but who’s sayin’ life woulda been any better if we had? I’ve spent a lot of my life wishin’ I could change the past, and it was a lotta life wasted.” I pressed a hand on his back. “I’m not about to waste any more of that time.”

  Jack frowned but nodded with reluctant understanding.

  “The truth is”—Augusta’s eyes bounced from Calvin’s then to Jack—“my parents…your grandparents…well, I believe they thought they were doin’ what was best.” She knocked shoulders with our boy. “But I know for sure they wish they could be here now, watching you hit home runs with the Eagles and swimming like a star.”

  He turned up his face, eyes catching the sun and glowing. “I want to go to Tennessee someday, see the ridge, and the river you used to swim in. I want to see the house too.”

  My heart thrummed quicker with his words, the idea of bringing him home to Chickasaw, showin’ him all those places that were the backdrop of Augusta’s and my story… I didn’t know if I had the heart to relive it all, especially through his young eyes.

  “Maybe someday, pal.” Augusta grinned. “How’s about right now we clean up and then head downtown for some ice cream?”

  “Can we, Dad?” Jack asked Calvin.

  He nodded. “Home by dark, though. You’ve got one more day of school before the weekend.”

  “Ugh. Can’t I stay with Fallon ’n’ Augusta?” His little Southern drawl was more noticeable in the evening when he was tired. Reminded me of Augusta even more with that twang.

  “We don’t really have a good situation set up for sleepovers, buddy.” Augusta glanced at Calvin. “That hotel is close, but there isn’t much room…”

  “I can sleep on the floor. I don’t care!”

  “That’s definitely not happening,” I announced, a little repulsed. “Maybe we could find something bigger to rent for the weekend?”

  Calvin shook his head, patting Jack on the shoulder. “Maybe someday, buddy, but you best be movin’ on that ice cream if you want to get there before they close.”

  Jack slipped his hand into Augusta’s, her cheeks warming as a slow smile crossed her lips at his contact.

  I sucked in a breath, thoughts of what the world held for us as we took off for the sidewalk, sights set on ice cream, my mind a blur with possibilities.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Augusta

  Dawn light shone through the faded blinds of the motel window, my eyes fluttering open just as Fallon’s heavy palm made contact with the sensitive underside of my knees. He dusted his nose along the edge, grazing my thigh before his teeth nipped at the waistband of my panties and yanked, eliciting a squeal from my lips.

  “Mornin’, sunshine. I’m hungry for breakfast, and I want all three courses between your thighs.” He caged me in his arms, the gravelly timbre of his voice sending my stomach spiraling.

  This man. His words.

  He’d been undoing me from the start with his words.

  I arched beneath him, his heavy hands roaming up my torso before one palm cupped at my breast, thumb tracing my nipple as he slipped the other hand down the back of my panties and pushed them down my cheeks.

  “Sounds promising.” I moaned, fingernails digging into his biceps as my heart hammered at a fever pitch, the rough sandpaper of his beard causing new and delicious sensations to rocket through my body.

  “You don’t even know the half of it.” He locked his hands with mine, his body pushing its way down my torso, grating over every last delicious nerve, his effect on me spinning my head a little more out of control.

  Lost in him.

  I’d always been so utterly lost in this man.

  “Spread those sweet knees, sunshine.”

  I did what he ordered, anticipation making me his captive.

  With his hands holding mine at my sides, he locked me to his body, mouth spread over the juncture of my legs as he moved his tongue against my skin, eliciting moans and whimpers of pleasure with each stroke.

  He pressed the palm of his hand against my hips, holding me to him as his mouth glided around my core, devouring me in deft sweeps and swallowing me whole. Tremors of overwhelming pleasure and pain blasted through my body, shaking me from the inside out, rendering me speechless and stunned.

  Before I could even begin to imagine what was on his mind, he was lifting me in his arms, locking my ankles around his waist and sliding inside, filling me with measured strokes and caressing the sensitive hollows of my throat with his lips.

  “More, Fallon. Please more.”

  He clutched at my back, angling his hips deeper, creating a new rhythm as we connected, rocking together, wrapped around each other limb for limb, life for
life.

  “You don’t know what it does to me, knowin’ all those desperate little whimpers are mine.” His rough beard skated across my breasts, my nipples tightening as our skin grew damp, the only noise what our bodies were making as we peeled away every layer. “I want more babies with you, Augusta Belle.” He scraped his teeth along the shell of my ear, hard chest rasping against mine before his fingers stole between us, rough pads spreading my damp flesh. “Want all the babies with you, sunshine.”

  He pinched my aching flesh, sending a torrent of showers erupting through my body, stars splitting behind my eyelids, before his grip tightened at my waist. He held me close to him, body shaking as his own release pummeled through him.

  I felt him flexing deep inside, our bodies softening as he pulled us down into the mountain of cotton that mounded the motel bed.

  Violent breaths racked my body as the slow drag of his cock kissed every raw nerve, the sensation so intense soft pulses shuddered their way through my body. My emotions had already been strung tight the last month, the highs so beautiful, but some days it felt like I was waiting for the inevitable crash.

  I snuggled against the only man who’d ever made me feel worthy, but the only thing I wanted was the one thing I couldn’t bear to ask because I was too afraid of the answer.

  Could we stay?

  “The smell of your skin makes my heart happy,” I whispered against the soft flesh of his tattooed bicep.

  Fallon turned up his lips in something that was part grin, part frown, before he uncurled himself from my body and pushed out of the bed. “You’re biased. That means I need a shower.” He planted a kiss on the crown of my head.

  Sunlight shot through the blinds, highlighting all the finely knit muscles and chiseled contours as he walked away, the padding of his feet on the carpet piercing the silence.

  We’d been in Landry for nearly a month, Jack and Calvin welcoming us into their lives without a second’s hesitation.

  And while things between Fallon and me had been better than ever—fevered late-night writing sessions and lovemaking, waiting for Jack at the bus stop in the afternoons—life had settled into its own rhythm.

  But still, this giant, unspoken elephant seemed to exist between us, growing, pushing out the air.

  We might have only been here for a month, but already I was thinking the next ten years in Landry looked pretty good, the idea of leaving Jack like a serrated knife working its way down my heart.

  But Fallon, as attentive as he was, still seemed like he was missing something.

  I didn’t know what was on his mind, but he constantly looked like he was in a state of flux, warring with sides of himself I wasn’t privy to.

  The shower water halted then, and the near-silent sound of his footsteps was the only sign that he was back in the room with me.

  I tucked the sheet around my bare body, sliding up to my knees as he neared the bed, white towel secured loosely at his waist, dark licks of ink slashing across the deeply etched muscles of his torso.

  I loved him so much, but maybe he was a rolling stone through and through. Maybe he’d always need the road and the crowds to feed a part of himself that I, and Jack, couldn’t give.

  I swallowed the slow ache that’d lodged in my throat as his hands pushed into the sides of my wild waves before placing quiet kisses on my forehead.

  He didn’t say anything.

  Neither did I.

  I didn’t know what I could say.

  Please don’t leave us.

  Because, despite everything new we’d found, suddenly my priorities had shifted, Jack was now part of my us.

  The ringing of my phone chose that moment to pierce the haunted silence, and Fallon’s hands dropped to his sides before he pulled a clean pair of worn-out jeans from a stack. The phone shook again, and this time, I stretched across the bed, holding it to my ear as I said a quick hello.

  I listened silently, sounds of sheer fear lacing the voice on the other line. “Have you seen Jack?”

  I swallowed, shaking my head as my heart fell on the floor. “No.”

  “He left school at lunch and hasn’t been back. He’s never done this before. The school asked all his friends—” Calvin sounded bad. Scary bad.

  My eyes shot across the room to Fallon’s, worry transcending the space. “We’ll do whatever we can. We can canvass all the neighborhoods from here to the school. Whatever you need from us. We’ll find him, Calvin, I promise.”

  Fallon was pushing his boots onto his feet before I’d hung up the phone.

  My stomach turned, the greatest fear I’d ever known materializing in a matter of an instant.

  Fallon’s eyes searched my face, a frown twisting his features before he crossed the room, wrapping me in his arms and letting me unravel, piece by terrified piece.

  “I’ll find him, Augusta Belle. Swear on my life, I won’t sleep till I find him.”

  Adrenaline flooded my veins as fat tears streamed down my cheeks. Fallon’s thumbs attempted to push the salty tracks aside before I launched off the bed and across the room, throwing on the first pair of jeans I found, wiggling into a bra and then a tank top.

  “Maybe you should stay here in case he shows up,” Fallon suggested.

  I shook my head, rational decision-making no longer a part of my skill set, the holy terror of losing my son, not for the first time, settling into my bones. “I can’t just stand by while this…”

  I pushed away more tears as I tried to tie my shoelaces.

  “Augusta,” Fallon murmured, steady palms holding my shaking shoulders. “Take some deep breaths and lift your head up high. We’re gonna find him. Post yourself outside, keep your phone turned up, and I’m just gonna do a quick search around the school zone, okay? I’ll be back in thirty minutes to check on you, but you’ve got be ready to take my call, okay? Or if he comes here, just be ready. He needs you, sunshine.” Fallon nestled me into his neck. “We all do.”

  I nodded, summoning my strength as we pushed through the door of the motel room, Fallon giving me one last kiss before he climbed into his truck and backed away.

  I swallowed down my tears, grazing my teeth on my bottom lip, and looking down at my phone in my hand.

  Without knowing what else to do, I pulled up my contacts, pressing Jack’s, the picture of all three of us smiling at the swimming hole a few weeks ago his contact photo.

  I cried more happy-sad tears, pressing the speakerphone as the call began to ring. I waited, birds singing sweet songs in the Spanish moss-covered oaks around me, wind carryin’ all my hopes away with each passing second.

  “‘Ello?”

  “Jack?” I nearly shrieked, catching the phone in both hands at my face.

  “Yeah?” His sweet little twang was like an angel singin’ in my heart.

  “Where are you!”

  He let out a little huff on the line. “Shoulda known Dad would call you.”

  A hooded figure came around the corner, spiky blond hair and dark brown eyes sending tears of relief down my cheeks. “What, are you crazy?”

  I pulled him into a hug, holding him so tightly I thought I might crush my own chest cavity. I didn’t care. I needed to feel him here, safe.

  “You scared us.”

  He nodded, pushing the hood off his head and dropping his backpack on the sidewalk before he plopped onto the nearest picnic table. “I just needed a break.”

  “A break?” I sat down beside him. “I get that, buddy, but you’ve just got to tell people first.”

  He swallowed, his eyes avoiding mine as he twisted his hands together.

  “‘What’s on your mind? Did something happen today?”

  He shook his head, troubled eyes conveying more than he was willing to say out loud.

  “I’m gonna send your dad and Fallon a quick message, and then I want to know exactly what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  “What if you’re mad?”

  “I won’t be mad, Jack. Not ever. I mig
ht be worried, but I promise you that anger isn’t something you’ll get as long as you tell me the truth.”

  He nodded again, breathing a reluctant sigh when I hit send on the two messages confirming Jack’s whereabouts.

  “I’m just worried that I’m gonna get home from school someday and you won’t be here.”

  His words hollowed out my soul, the sheer worry in his innocent little eyes leveling me. “That won’t happen, Jack.”

  My voice was barely above a whisper, my promise to him as much as myself.

  “But Fallon’s got his music. I know he doesn’t want a kid—”

  “You don’t know what Fallon wants at all, Jack. And the best part, you don’t even have to worry about it. Fallon and I will work out all those adult things.”

  The man of the hour pulled in then, bright white truck parking alongside us.

  Fallon Gentry unfolded his big body from behind the wheel of his truck, a look of relief dominating every feature of his face.

  He smiled, taking long strides to Jack and then placing a kiss on his head before wrapping me in a quick hug. “Scared the hell outta us for a minute, kid.”

  Jack smiled weakly when Fallon plopped down beside him, crossing one ankle over a knee and cocking his arms back on the bench.

  The way he filled up a space did things, swallowed up the energy around him. Drew people into his bubble like moths to a flame. It was exactly the thing the crowd witnessed all those nights he sat onstage, exactly why he’d made it so far in Nashville, and why he would have made it much further if he’d chosen that life.

  But the longer he seemed to stew on what he wanted to do next, the more he seemed to be unhappy about it.

  “I know someday you’re going to go back on the road,” Jack’s meek little voice finally admitted.

  Fallon rubbed a hand through his beard, body still easy, casual. “Ever heard that sayin’ ’bout assumin’ things?”

  Jack tilted his head, shaking it finally in confusion.

  Fallon nodded. “Well, when you go assumin’ things, Jack—”

  “I think he’s a little on the young side for this particular lesson,” I interjected, hand on Jack’s shoulder.

 

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