14. Peyton
CHAPTER 14
peyton
A LIFETIME AGO
“ P eyton. Hey, beautiful. Wake up. Peeeeyton.”
I felt something nuzzle my cheek. I could tell it was morning. The sun was blinding even through my closed lids.
“Hey, pretty girl,” a man said.
A man with a soft, smooth voice.
My eyes flew open and I looked over to see Silas’s brother, Ford, lying next to me, his face six inches from mine. For a second I thought I was dreaming. But then he grinned and my very real heart thudded so hard I felt it reverberate in the truck bed beneath me. Dang, he was cute. Why was I lying next to him in a truck…in only my bra and panties?
What the?
I blinked and it all came rushing back.
The bar, UNO, his song…that kiss .
And everything after.
Oh crap.
“Good morning.” He reached over and plucked a UNO card from my cheek. Then he held my gaze, his eyes soft, almost dazed. Like he was completely smitten. When was the last time someone looked at me like that? High school, maybe? I wasn’t sure, but I liked it. A lot.
I ran my tongue over my teeth. Eew. My mouth felt like I’d been sucking on a cotton ball all night. “Morning,” I said without parting my lips.
“Someone’s calling you.” He nodded to my phone which was buzzing uncontrollably at my feet. “Whoever it is has already called twice. I thought it might be important.”
I sat up—too quickly—taking the sleeping bag with me. Pain slammed into my head like a croquet mallet. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the headache.
Ford sat up with me, his fingers curling around my waist. I ignored the goosebumps that assaulted me at his touch and reached for my phone.
Lemon.
I looked at the time.
“Crap!” As soon as I declined her call, the screen filled with missed calls and text notifications from Lemon, Momma, and Braxton. I dropped the phone like it was on fire. “I’m supposed to teach barre in sixteen minutes.” I grabbed my wadded-up tank top lying on the truck bed where Ford had dropped it last night, and slid it over my head. Then I glanced around, searching for my shorts. “Why didn’t I set an alarm?” I groaned. I was about to ask if he’d seen my cut-offs when they appeared right in front of me, dangling from his pointer finger. I quickly slid them up my legs.
“No worries.” He chuckled, not the least bit stressed. “I’ll get you there in nine minutes.”
I gave him a stunned laugh. “I’d like to arrive alive, please.”
Something else buzzed. It wasn’t my phone this time. I glanced over my shoulder to catch him halfway pulling on a shirt. A set of gorgeous washboard abs disappeared beneath a sea of pale blue cotton. The memory of running my hands over those abs stole my air for a second. He picked up his phone and smiled at the name.
Lemon.
I shot to my knees in front of him, my body rigid with fear. He pushed up on his knees to match, hooked an arm around my waist, and pulled me tight against his chest.
My word, he smelled good. Even better than last night. Like he'd been marinated overnight in a delicious cocktail of expensive cologne, clean laundry, and pure, unadulterated man-magic. If masculinity had a scratch-and-sniff sticker, this would be the premium edition.
“Gooood morning?” he sang into the phone as he winked at me. His brow furrowed as he listened. He laughed. “Why would I know where your friend Peyton is? I’ve never even met her, Lem.”
My forehead dropped to his shoulder and I wished I could die.
“Her car is parked at Bottoms Up ?” he repeated with a low chuckle, his fingers running across a slice of my lower back where my tank top was hiked a smidge.
I looked up at him and whispered a groan.
“No. No one’s with me,” he murmured, his nose nipping the end of mine. Then he left a silent peck on my lips. “People are saying we left together?” Another peck. “Nah. She’s probably with that tool she’s been dating forever. Brent? Baxter? Benedict?” I giggled into his neck. “Oh, Braxton. Yeah, that… guy .” He huffed the word like he was being generous by not calling Braxton something worse. He pressed kisses up my throat, pausing halfway up to scoff. “Are you insinuating that I had a wild fling with her last night?” He leaned back to look at me, one eyebrow kissing his hairline. “Is she the kind of girl who has a lot of one-night stands?”
Seriously ? I mouthed.
“She’s not?” The tense lines in his face relaxed and he grinned like he’d won an award. “Then what are you worried about?” His brow crinkled. “You think I talked her into that? I’m actually offended right now.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’ll hold on.”
He put the phone on mute and set it on the sleeping bag, cupped my jaw in his hands, and dipped his head for a kiss.
I dodged it. “Let’s get in the truck!” I hissed. “We could’ve been halfway there by now.”
“No,” he said possessively as both of his arms wrapped around my waist and he swayed us from side to side. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
Blame it on his smell, his muscles, his sexy voice…I dunno. Who was I to deny him? I let him square my hips to his. Then his mouth was on mine, his tongue pushing, trying to get me to open up.
I shook my head and tapped on my lips to tell him I had morning breath.
His bottom lip pushed out in a pout and his pretty blue eyes turned down, playfully sad. I was a puddle at his feet. I smashed my lips to his and his tongue slid against mine. My body involuntarily shivered and a little moan escaped my throat. If he was disgusted by my cotton mouth, he didn’t let on.
“You always get your way, don’t you?” I whispered.
His only response was a hum and another kiss.
“Ford!” Lemon yelled. She was stressed.
Let’s go , I mouthed.
He held up a finger as he picked up the phone. “I’m here,” he said. “The whole town is looking for her? Her mom called the sheriff’s office? This sounds serious.”
Shoot.
He shook with laughter and I smacked him on the shoulder.
He bit his lips together. “No, seriously. I didn’t hook up with your friend last night,” he said, eerily straight-faced. “I wouldn’t mind if you set us up though. She’s fricking gorgeous.” Now I shook with silent laughter. “Yeah. I hope she doesn’t turn up dead in a ditch, too. That would be a tragedy. I’ll send all my good vibes her way.” I laughed even harder. His fingers fisted around the back of my shirt. “Bye,” he said with a smile in his voice.
I leaned back so I could stand, but his arms were locked around me.
I groaned. “I have to go. We now have eleven minutes to go ten miles.”
But he wasn’t laughing. His gaze was intense, his body stiff. “As soon as I drop you off, I have to head to the airport. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
My stomach took a nosedive. “Oh.”
“You’re not getting back together with Beauregard as soon as I leave, are you?” There was a tiny tremble in his voice.
“After last night?” I gave him a smile. “Definitely not.”
“Promise?”
My hands slipped into his hair and I brought his mouth to mine. “Promise.”
He broke the kiss. “You do want to see me again, don’t you?” His tone was husky.
“Of course I do, 3673.” I should’ve been embarrassed by what I gave him last night. I’d never done something like that before. But truthfully, if it were a Groundhog Day situation and I had the chance to do it again, I couldn’t see myself making a different choice. I’d walked into that bar, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. And in one night, this man had put it back together again. I was confident I was never going to be the same. “You have my heart,” I whispered.
“Yeah?” His eyes crinkled as he grinned.
“Yeah.”
His expression turned serious. “Me too,” he said in a hush.
An engine revved in the distance. His eyes snapped up over my shoulder and he swore. “Somebody’s coming this way. On a tractor.”
It was a whirlwind after that—hastily wadding up the sleeping bags, gathering UNO cards, grabbing his guitar, and quickly stowing everything in the back seat of the truck. Then we were off.
I sat on the far side and reached for the seat belt.
“No way,” he growled. His hand curled around my waist and he yanked me over to sit in the middle seat next to him.
“Bossy much?” I said, putting that seat belt on instead.
His hand stayed locked around my thigh as we raced down the driveway, like he had to touch me as much as possible. Which I understood. In a few minutes, we’d be going our separate ways.
He rolled the window down a crack to let some of the heat out. I gazed over, drinking him in. When would I see him again? That curly brown hair with a hint of auburn, those gorgeous blue eyes, that granite jaw dusted with dark stubble. I wanted to sear him into my memory. He met my gaze and held it.
But then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I screamed when I saw a tractor coming straight for us.
“Duck!” he yelled, grinding the brake into the floorboard. I dove for the bench seat on the other side. He swore for the third time. “It’s my dad and he’s waving me down like a lunatic.” He put the truck in park and unhooked his seat belt. “Stay down,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
“As if I have another choice,” I hissed.
He reached into the back seat, grabbed one of the sleeping bags, and draped it over me, tucking me in. I bit back a laugh as I heard him open the door and get out. With the window cracked open, I could hear his shoes crunch over the gravel.
“You almost ran me off the road,” he said.
“Sorry, son.” Bo chuckled. I could barely hear him over the roar of the idling tractor. “The sun was right in my eyes. What’re you doing coming from the back fifty this early in the morning?” Bo’s tone was suspicious.
“Just watching the sunrise,” Ford said smoothly.
“Watching the sunrise?” Bo sounded even more skeptical now. “You never get up this early. You weren’t out there with Peyton? Lemon said you left Bottoms Up with her.”
“Nope,” Ford lied. “Don’t even know her, Dad.”
“Hmm. Well, that other woman called the house three times last night. And twice this morning.”
What other woman?
“What woman?” Ford said so low I almost couldn’t hear.
“You know, your girlfriend.”
My breath turned to cement in my lungs. Did I have a one-night stand with a man who had a girlfriend?
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Ford hissed.
My muscles relaxed.
“Yeah, you do.” They tensed right back up. “That hussy you brought with you last time you were home. When Holden proposed to Christy. Mom caught her sneaking out of your bedroom the next morn?—”
“Dad,” Ford growled.
“—ing, remember? And then your mom made us all sit there while she prayed over your soul. ’Cause that’s not the first time she’s caught a girl coming out of your?—”
“Dad!” Ford shouted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m in a hurry. I gotta go.”
The shame I should’ve felt last night slammed into me all at once. I’d slept with a manwhore. A manwhore who’d suckered me with his last name, his perfect family, and his pretty voice.
“Lyric, I think her name was?” Bo said like Ford hadn’t yelled at him. “No. Melody?”
“Echo,” Ford grumbled. “Her name is Echo and she’s definitely not my girlfriend. I ditched her the minute I got to Nashville but she won’t stop calling.”
Was that even true? Would he ditch me the minute he got back to Nashville?
“Thank the Lord for that.” Bo huffed. “That girl was not high caliber. She was the kind of trash men pick up at the bar for a one-night stand.” That did it. The tears from last night were back. I was trash, just like Echo. Bo always hugged me so tight whenever I saw him. Called me darling and looked at me like he was so proud. Not anymore. He’d never look at me like that again. I clamped down on a sob.
“You gotta stop your wild philandering and find a real woman to settle down with,” Bo said. “As soon as that godforsaken show is over. You hear me?”
“I gotta go, Dad.” Ford sounded as shamefaced as I felt. Which only made more tears come. Last night was so incredibly stupid. Careless. Wild. Not at all who I was. What had I been thinking?
I knew exactly what I’d been thinking. I’d been thinking that Ford was a Dupree. Classy and sweet and the kind of guy who turns a crappily ever after into a happily ever after. Just like Silas had for Lemon. Or Holden had for Christy. The kind of guy that you might meet in a bar but who talks you into exchanging I do’s. The kind who—just like me—didn’t usually do crazy things like sleep with someone they’d barely met.
The kind who didn’t bring home girls named Echo .
Ford’s footsteps were coming closer. My breath was frozen again. My lungs maxed to capacity.
“Hold up,” Bo said. “Your mom is on the phone with Echo right now. You better head over to the house and talk to her yourself or she’ll never stop calling.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
"I’ll tell Lemon you haven’t seen her friend Peyton.”
“You do that, Dad.”
The door opened and I felt the seat compress as Ford sat back down. Then the door slammed shut.
“Hey,” he whispered as he tapped gently on the gas.
I stayed wrapped in my blanket cocoon while the truck lurched forward.
“Peyton,” he said again and I finally let a single sob loose. “Oh, man. Don’t cry.”
I gave myself three seconds. To breathe, to think, to be rational.
“Peyton, come on. Please, talk to me.”
Screw rational.
I threw the sleeping bag off and glared up at him. “Echo? Who your mom caught coming out of your bedroom?”
“Yes, that happened.” His face was repentant. Desperate. “But she’s not my girlfriend. Anymore. You have to believe me.”
“I have to believe you?” I sat up and slid over to the far door. “I had a one-night stand. That’s what I have to believe! I don’t even know you and I let you charm the pants right off of me. Literally.” My shoulders shook with a sob. And here I’d thought I was done crying over stupid men.
His eyes were wild—like he didn’t know what to do, and like he’d give anything to fix this. It was probably part of his carefully crafted act.
“Just…calm down,” he said softly. “Let’s talk this through.”
“Calm down? I don’t sleep around, Ford! Ever!” I said in a suffocated tone, a tear slipping off my jaw. “I’ve been with two people my entire life. Braxton and now you. How many women have you been with?”
His Adam’s apple dipped with a swallow. “More than two,” he said in a hush.
I groaned. “Last night meant something to me,” I whimpered. “I th-thought this was the start of something.” I closed my eyes. I could hear my momma’s voice rebuking me already. Why should he buy the cow when you’ve given him the milk for free? I doubled over, my face pressed against my knees as I sobbed.
A minute later, I let out a gasp as he tugged me into his lap. I hadn’t even realized he’d pulled over.
“Hey,” he soothed. His fingertips trailed along my spine. “Last night was definitely the start of something. Something fantastic and mind-blowing and lasting. I mean that.” He pressed kisses all over my cheeks. “I’m crazy about you.” He sounded half out of his mind. “Please believe me. I want this. So badly.” His forehead rested against mine. “I won’t lie. I’ve been a little wild. Been with too many girls. But I want you. Want a committed relationship with you. And I haven’t wanted that with anyone in a really long time. Last night was… everything . And I’m not just talking about the physical stuff. I mean all of it. The laughter and the flirting. This good feeling in my chest.” He picked up my hand and placed it over his racing heart. “You feel that?”
I nodded, my nose brushing his.
“It’s beating for you, Peyton. Beating for right now because you’re sitting in my lap. Beating for the next time I’m going to see you. Whenever that is.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Until then, every heartbeat is yours.” He kissed me again. “They all belong to you.”
“You’re not going to run off with Echo when you get back to Nashville? Or Ruby? You don’t have feelings for her? You know what everyone is saying about the two of you.” It was all over my social media feeds.
“Definitely not. Echo is way over, and Ruby…” He shivered like he was disgusted. “I have feelings about Ruby but none of them are good.”
“You’re telling the truth?” I wanted to believe him. Desperately.
“Yes, I am. I’m crazy about you . No one else compares. Believe that.”
I studied him for a moment. Either he was being sincere, or he was a really good actor. No, I’d never seen anyone look at me like that. Like everything hinged on my forgiveness. “Okay.”
His fingers pressed against my scalp, digging in as he kissed me long and passionately.
“I’m so late.” I sniffed a minute later.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Ten seconds later we were back on the road, his arm around my shoulder as I sat tucked into his side.
I sent a quick text to Lemon.
Me: I’m so sorry. I’m on my way! I spent the night at Marcy’s. You remember my friend from Honeyville?
There was no Marcy. I felt bad about that, but I wasn’t ready to let one of my best friends know that I’d very uncharacteristically hooked up with her brother-in-law.
Me: If you’ll warm the ladies up, I’ll finish the rest of class. No need to pay me!
“Shoot me a text,” Ford said. Then he repeated his number while I added him to my contacts. “I’ll call you as soon as you’re done with class and I’m on my way to the airport.”
“Yeah. Sounds good. When do you think you’ll be back in Seddledowne?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not sure. I know it won’t be before the finale.” His eyes lit up. “Come. To the finale. I’ll get you a ticket.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Won’t your family be there?”
“Yes. Are you ashamed to let them know we’re together?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I don’t know. I just…they’ll know we were lying about last night and…”
“They’ll get over it.”
“But…is this even a good time to start a relationship? You’re going to win the show. You are,” I said when he started to protest. “And then there’s a tour, right? And you’ll have commitments.”
“I know what you’re doing.” His thumb drummed against the steering wheel. “You’re scared, so you’re trying to sabotage this relationship before it gets its wheels up off the ground. Please, don’t.” His voice was tense, his brow raised. “I’ll only come after you harder. That’s a promise.” His words were confident. His tone was anything but.
“Ford.” I sighed.
His scowl was cutting lines into his forehead. “Give this a chance. I know the timing is crazy. Let’s see what happens.” His eyes were pleading. “ Please .”
I kissed him on the cheek. “All right. Just…let’s not say anything to anyone right away, okay?”
“If you promise to come to the finale.” He squeezed my hand, hoping.
I smiled. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll try.”
“Do or do not. There is no try,” he said, sounding way too sexy to be Yoda.
“Fine.” I grinned. “I’ll come.” I pointed to a side street, half a block from Bottoms Up . “Pull over, there.” I needed to grab my workout clothes from my car.
He put the truck in park and let the engine idle. My fingers slid into the back of his curly hair and I kissed him again. “Thanks for saving me last night, 3673,” I murmured.
“I’ll save you anytime, Peyton Jamerson.”