Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H utton

Rae suggests a glass of wine by the fire after I come out of Henry's room. I agree, but make a detour to my truck to get my guitar out of the back. It had felt really good to have it back in my hands there at the theater. Without being in the spotlight, I let myself just enjoy playing the instrument. No expectations, something I hadn't felt in decades.

She's already sitting down when I come back in and take my coat off. The fire is making her blonde hair look like a halo around her head. With the Christmas tree off to the side, the snap and crackle of the fire, and Rae waiting for me, I can't seem to think of a better way to spend the evening. It's not far off of what I always imagined my life would be like at this age. A warm home, kids sleeping in their bed, and a woman who loved me. The kind of woman who was looking for forever. I hadn't imagined it to be in a small town in Idaho though.

I frown, the thought kicking up nerves for the first time since I turned my wheels toward Snowhaven. What the hell am I doing here? Rae isn't looking to settle down with an old man who already has a child. And I wasn't looking to retire to a small town in Idaho. Am I?

"You going to come over and play something for me? Or just stand there like a weirdo all night?" Rae calls over, her head now swiveled in my direction.

I break out of my deep thoughts and walk over, settling next to her and propping the guitar against the coffee table. I pull her into my arms and nuzzle my nose into her neck. "I was hoping you'd let me kiss you in front of the fire again. Do I need to break out the mistletoe?"

Rae giggles and sinks further into my embrace. When she doesn't kiss me, I look down to see her studying me. "What about that songwriting you're supposed to be doing? I don't want to be a distraction."

Just like that, all the warmth gets sucked out of the room, replaced by a balloon of pressure. I feel my age instead of whatever had made me feel like a kid again at the theater. "Fuck it," I mumble. "I need some time off."

Rae gasps. "Did the choir boy just curse again?"

I drill a finger into her waist and she yelps before wiggling away into the other arm of the couch. She holds up her glass of wine. "You're lucky you didn't make me spill this."

I shrug, already missing her being in my arms. "I'd buy you a new couch."

She lifts an eyebrow. "Money doesn't fix everything, cowboy." She takes a deep drink from her wine and I do the same, putting my glass back on the end table when I'm done. "I have an idea."

I sure hope her idea involves us going back to her bedroom. "Yeah?"

"Let's make songwriting fun again." She puts her glass down next to mine and pushes the sleeves up on her bright red sweater. "For every new song you play for me, I'll lose an article of clothing."

The grin is instant. "I like the way your brain works, but a new song takes forever to write. It'd be midnight and you'd only have your sweater on the ground."

She shrugs. "The songs don't have to be any good. When was the last time you gave yourself permission to just throw spaghetti at the wall?"

There's a thread of excitement curling in my gut, but I resort to what I always do when presented with a situation that makes me nervous: I fall back on humor. "Henry does enough of that."

Rae lifts an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "Don't have all night, cowboy. You scared?"

I roll my eyes, loving when she tries to play hardball, but I do grab my guitar. I set it against my knee and strum out a few chords to warm up. I have to close my eyes to block out Rae or all I'll do is stare at her pretty face. Thinking back over the last few days, I think of all the things the three of us have done together, the way this town comes together for the holidays, the way Christmas has taken on a new meaning this year. Words begin to form. My fingers settle on a melody. I try out the words with the music, circling back and trying again until I get a verse that sounds good. I keep going until I get a second verse, but then I focus on the chorus. I probably go through the chorus twenty times before I call it good and open my eyes.

Rae is sipping her wine, her phone on the couch between us, recording. "Figured someone should be writing down the lyrics you come up with."

I let my fingers still on the strings. "Hey, a deal's a deal, lady."

She grins and sets down her glass, making a big show of getting up. She shakes her hips back and forth slowly, like she's dancing to my song in her head. Then her hands inch up the hem of her sweater, bringing it up over her stomach and then her breasts. Dear God, she isn't even wearing a bra. My gaze zeroes in on her nipples, the way they're already pinched and tight, like they desperately need my attention. The sweater hits the floor with a soft plop and Rae shimmies her way back to the couch, like sitting next to me topless is a normal evening for us.

"That's one song."

I drop my forehead to the guitar with a groan. "How the hell am I going to concentrate to write another?"

"You're a professional. You can work under pressure, can't you?"

I lift my head and see a smug smile on her face. "You're going on the naughty list, sugar." I shut my eyes, not kidding when I said the most perfect pair of breasts would distract me.

"How about you write a song about me?" Rae asks. "What would it be called?"

"Sunshine," I say without thinking. She's definitely a ray of sunshine, but she's also a spark plug of energy, good at everything she does. I just wish she'd focus that energy on her art.

I strum a few chords, find a melody I like, soft and smooth and fun. I put a few words to it, playing around until I get to one particular phrase that seems to be what Rae is to me.

She's the sun, bringing warmth, clarity, and the possibility of something new. She's the sun, setting on a perfect day, the taste of sunset on her lips.

I try out a few more melodies, looking for that perfect chorus hook. When I can't quite find it, I let it go and open my eyes. Rae has her head tilted, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

"It's not great, but I can work on it."

Rae stands, stripping out of her jeans and standing naked in front of me, apparently done with this game. "I loved it. Now take me to bed right now."

I've never ditched my guitar so quickly. She's in my arms and giggling as I race us through the house to her bedroom. I barely get the door closed behind me and my shirt over my head before she attacks. Her kiss is urgent, desperate. And I fucking love it. My hands travel up and down, delighting in every inch of her bare skin and not sure where they want to settle. Her fingers release my hair only to dip down to my buckle. She whips the leather through my belt loops and makes quick work of my jeans, reaching in to grab ahold of me in her fist.

"Whoa," I whisper against her lips, trying to slow her down. "You first, sugar."

"Not tonight," she gasps back, stroking me from root to tip. My knees threaten to buckle.

I fumble for my wallet in the back of my jeans pocket, grabbing a condom before Rae shoves my jeans down to my legs and jumps. I barely catch her, spinning us around and pressing her back against the door. I nearly trip on my jeans, considering they're still around my ankles, but the woman doesn't give me time to do this properly. She pushes against my shoulders and grinds herself up and down my cock.

"Give it to me, Hutton," she begs.

My eyes cross with need but I manage to get the condom on before I press her against the door and thrust inside her heat. She groans and drops her head back with a thump.

"More, more, more," she chants, legs tightening around my waist as she tries to take control of the situation. Considering I have her pinned against the door with my cock, I don't intend to give her that control.

I pull out and then slam back in, wincing when the door bangs. I'm sure we're making a racket, but I can't get myself to stop. So I give it to her, hard and fast until she comes, squeezing me in a death grip and sagging in my arms.

"Hold on, sugar," I pant, hands on her hips while I move her limp body where I want it.

Her hands scrabble on my shoulders, but most of her weight is against the door. Just a few more thrusts and I'm coming, every ounce of strength I possess keeping us upright. When the last wave of pleasure has been wrung out of me, I pull out, hugging her to my chest and turning us toward the bed. I almost make it there before tripping over my own jeans and we both tumble onto the bed. Rae shakes with laughter and I join in.

"Give me one second," I tell her, bending down to drop a quick kiss on her lips before I stand back up and step out of my jeans.

Then I find another condom in my suitcase and get under the covers with her. We snuggle until I feel like round two is a possibility. This time, we both come together, half asleep and so connected I'm not sure where my body ends and Rae starts.

Henry wakes me with a loud battle cry as he launches himself on the bed. I wake with a jolt, remembering belatedly that I fell asleep last night before I got dressed. Rae and I are naked as the day we were born.

"Whoa there, little buddy!" I snatch him into my arms before he can crawl over to Rae. She's got the sheet clutched to her chest, blinking away sleep with a look of alarm. "The adults need to get dressed. How about you go look in the fridge and see what sounds good for breakfast?"

Henry looks down at my chest and nods sagely. "Is' okay. Mommy's fwiends don' wear cwothes either when they sweep over." With that horrifying announcement, he hops off the bed and runs out of the room.

My heart drops lower than the floor. I scrub a hand through my hair. "I am the worst father ever."

Rae shushes me, putting her hand on my back. "We made a mistake. It's okay. What we need to do is make sure it doesn't happen again."

Anger courses through me, at myself, and a lot at Holly. "What I need to do is have a conversation with my ex. That kind of behavior around Henry is unacceptable!" Of course, I'm the one who let Henry live with her full-time, just sweeping in for visits, but clearly not having any idea how my boy was being raised. If there's anyone to blame here, it's me.

Rae scrambles out of bed and gets dressed, letting me stew in my own self-hatred. When we're both dressed and the sound of Henry banging a pot on the hardwood floor has me nervous about what he's up to, we head out of the bedroom.

"I need to be with him more. I've outsourced parenting to Holly and that was a big mistake." We reach the kitchen and Rae gets Henry away from the pans littering the floor and over to the table where he's been coloring every sheet of paper Rae gives him. When she's back at my side, we move around each other seamlessly, getting eggs and toast going.

"Can you do that while on the road so much?" she asks on a whisper.

The pressure I felt last night about songwriting is nothing compared to the pressure I feel to be a better parent. "Not really. That's another reason to not work on another album. I can't travel like that with Henry in tow. He deserves a stable upbringing. I'm just not sure what that means for my career."

Rae lays her head on my shoulder while the eggs start to bubble in the pan. "You'll figure it out."

I wish I felt her optimism. Instead, all I feel is a crushing defeat. "With all the work I've done over the years, I feel like I haven't done a damn thing worthwhile."