Bounty(201)
After he opened the door, he leaned against the frame and saw her at the long, folding table he’d set up for her, her sweet, round ass in a steel folding chair, the entirety of the table filled with wrap, tape, ribbon, bows, boxes, the cement floor all around her covered in bags, snippings of paper and ribbon and stacks of wrapped presents.
“You want help?” he asked, only because he knew her answer.
“Like you’re gonna wrap a present,” Maggie replied.
Yeah, that was her answer.
He grinned at her.
Her hands arrested, blade of scissors to the end of a ribbon, her eyes on him, she did not grin back.
“He’s gonna be okay,” she whispered.
She saw right into his soul.
She always did. Christ, even from their first date, he’d felt that.
He’d forgotten it along the way.
Staring in her warm eyes in her pretty face that topped her curvy body, ass to a chair in the basement of his house, back again where she belonged, it was fucking good he’d remembered.
“I know,” he whispered back.
“They’re moving him out of Critical Care tomorrow,” she told him something else he knew.
“I know,” he repeated.
“He’s a strong guy, sweetheart. He’ll be back to normal in no time.”
“I know, baby.”
She gave that time then she asked quietly, “Do you think, Deke finding Jus, all that happened happened, it’s all going to be all right…again…that all the drama is finally going to be over?”
Wood gave his woman the truth.
“It’s never over, baby.”
Still watching him, she gave up on the present, got up and walked to him.
She didn’t stop, fitting her small, soft body into his long one, wrapping her arms around him.
He did the same with her, bending his neck, putting his lips to the top of her hair.
“You wanna go to bed?” she asked his chest.
“Fuck yeah,” he answered.
Maggie tipped her head back and smiled.
And Wood felt better.
Epilogue
“I’ll Crawl Home to Her”
Justice
“You look shit hot,” Krystal declared and I looked through the mirror at my girl walking into my dressing room, Bubba following her carrying Breanne on his hip.
“Krys, shi-ee-oot,” Bubba growled, curling his free hand around one of Breanne’s ears.
She tossed a glance over her shoulder at him. “Worse could happen, her first word bein’ shit.”
“How about we still avoid that, yeah?” he asked.
She turned to me, rolling her eyes.
I looked up to the makeup artist at my side and gave her a grin.
“You’re done anyway,” she muttered. “Come back to do a touch up and put the headpiece on before you go on.”
I nodded.
She wended her way through the bodies crowding my dressing room.
“Champagne, champagne and more champagne,” Jim-Billy called out, having instantly found his way to the refreshment area, a table laid out with snacks and big bowls filled with ice. Bottles of water and soda were stuck in one, champagne in the other. He looked to me. “Got beer, sweetheart?”
“Mini-fridge, Jim-Billy,” I told him.
“I’ll take champagne,” Lexie called out.
“Me too,” Faye said.
“Beer for me,” Twyla grunted.
“Yo.” I heard Lauren greet.
“Yo.” I heard Deke reply and I turned my attention to the couch where Deke had been sprawled since even before the stylist started working on me.
Lauren had thrown herself down close to him, in the opening of his arm stretched at the back.
Once down, he curled it around her.
I found Tate and saw him grinning at his woman with his friend. He felt my gaze and gave his to me.
I smiled.
Tate didn’t smile.
He walked right to me, lifted his hand and slid it inside my hair to the back of my neck. He pulled me down as he bent and I felt his lips touch my forehead.
The pressure at my neck lessened, I drew back and looked up at him.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
I nodded. “It’s gonna be great.”
“Yeah, it is,” he murmured, finally giving me a smile before he slid his hand back out and moved away.
“Just FYI, the rest of ’em are in the VIP section, savin’ us seats,” Krystal informed me.
“Cool,” I replied.
“Can we take beer to the VIP?” Jim-Billy asked.
“You can do anything you want,” I answered.
He gave me a broken grin.
“You decide if you’re gonna announce tonight that you’re recording again?” Laurie asked.
I nodded my head, though I answered, “No announcement. I think we’ll make it low-key. Drop the album. While Deke and I are on the road, I’ll hit some bars, honkytonks. Nothing planned. Still, it’ll hit social media, create buzz. Mr. T said that when the stuff was downloaded when I played at Bubba’s, my sales didn’t skyrocket, but they did get a push. It’ll be more fun that way and low pressure. I don’t need another gold record, just…” I shrugged, turning my eyes to Deke who had his warm on me, “to make music.”