Page 85 of Riding the Line
‘We can double date!’ Rory squeals, clapping.
‘Yeah, okay, princess.’ He perks a brow at Rory and rolls his eyes, but a smile still dances on his lips. ‘Anyway, I guess what I want to say is that I trust you both. I really do, Cherry, and I’m sorry if the family hasn’t made you feel that way. All I want is for you to be happy, and … well, I get the feeling Duke does exactly that for you. He’s got a lot of love to give, and you deserve that.’ He flashes me a kind look. ‘You both do.’
‘Thank you, Wyatt,’ Cherry replies, mirroring his gentle expression. She pins her shoulders back further, bolstered. ‘It means a lot, really.’
‘I think, um, maybe we should give you guys some privacy. To talk.’ Wyatt cocks his head, and Rory quickly jumps off the bed, rushing over to him.
‘We can finish playingThe Simstomorrow,’ she tells Cherry, before she gives my good arm a quick squeeze and heads out the door with Wyatt, leaving me all alone with Cherry.
Where I belong.
‘Hey, you,’ she croaks out, silver already rimming her eyes.
‘Hey, Baby Hensley,’ I say back, pressing my lips into a smile, trying to hide how wobbly it is. ‘May I?’ I ask, gesturing to the bed.
Cherry nods, shuffling slightly over to make room for me. I place myself beside her legs, letting my hand fall to them, where I can rub reassuring circles against her thigh. She doesn’t even blink at the contact – if anything, she relaxes further into the pillows behind her.
She reaches for me, fingers pulsing against my arm. My weary, aching bones calm at the sensation of just being close to her. Brow furrowed, she asks, ‘Are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you.’
‘Cherry, I’m fine. It’syouwho anyone should be worrying about. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. They wouldn’t let me in, and then Wyatt was angry, and I just thought I’d be better going home until you were ready—’
‘Duke, stop.’ Her brows pull together as a glossiness lingers in her gaze. ‘I’m fine, just a bit tired and achy, but that’s it. I just know you’re beating yourself up right now about what happened, but it wasn’t your fault.’
‘You had two seizures, Cherry. That wouldn’t have happened had I never let you ride my bike.’
She unexpectedly laughs, the sound all silver bells and glorious. ‘Maybe you’re right. But then maybe I would’ve had a seizure another time. Maybe I’d forget to take my meds one morning, or drink a little too much alcohol, or get too tired from my period, or do nothing at all and one would still happen sooner or later. That’s just life for me, I’m afraid. And you’re just going to have to accept that. My life isn’t your responsibility, it’smine.’ Wyattwas right, confidence shines off her like sunbeams. Even in her old pyjamas, she’s so bold and beautiful. ‘All I need from you is to stay by my side, to stand up for me, just like you did yesterday.’
Gently, I take her hands, trying not to wince too much at the bandages covering them. ‘Always, Cherry. I promise you. I was so afraid that I’d lost you for good. That this was the world’s way of punishing me for crossing that line with you. By hurting you.’ The last words come out strangled, tears surging into my eyes and threatening to fall – a foreign sensation given how I usually strive to lock my emotions away. But no more – for her. For me. ‘All I’ve ever wanted is to be one of the reasons that you smile. Even if I was just there on the sidelines, a brief moment of happiness you might easily forget.’
‘It’s okay. I’m still here,’ she whispers to me, leaning forward to press her forehead against mine, giving me the solace that is feeling her warm skin on mine.
‘I told Wyatt everything,’ I admit, keeping my gaze entwined with hers. Just staring so deeply into those eyes I would sell my soul to wake up to every goddamn day. ‘About how much I love you, how long I’ve loved you. I even told him how I afraid I was of losing him. I’m done hiding behind these walls I’ve built. I’m ready to bare the deepest depths of my soul, no matter how dark and fear-ridden, if it means I get the privilege of loving you even for one more second.’
Cherry cups my jaw, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. Despite the gentleness, there’s a raging sea of emotions behind the brush of her mouth, unspoken promises waving through me. She whispers against my lips, ‘You’vegot me for far longer than that, believe me. I’ve waitedyearsfor you, Duke Bennett. Do you really think I’d give up that easily?’
I kiss her back, this time with more fervour – with the kind of unrelenting need that I’d been holding back all these years. There’s a strange rush that comes from being completely honest with your feelings. Hunger overtakes us, Cherry’s hands clawing back the bedsheets to free herself as I drag her towards me with my good arm. Her thighs land either side of mine, soft body moulding against me as her tongue dances with mine. As our kisses seal every promise I’ve ever made to her. All the ones I plan to make to her in the future too.
‘I love you so much,’ I mumble between kisses.
‘I love you so much too,’ she responds.
I give her a lazy grin when I break away. ‘I hope you’re ready for countless Sundays playing dirty Scrabble with my grandmother.’
Cherry giggles, the sound a fucking melody I could listen to on repeat. ‘I can’t wait.’ She mirrors my grin, but her eyelids flutter as she slumps in my grip. ‘Lie with me for a bit, will you?’
I nod, twisting us on the bed so we can lie out and I can tuck her into my arms, blissfully unaware of the pain in my shoulder now my body is so overcome with love. Cherry settles her head against me, a hand covering my chest, above where my heart can’t help but trip over itself for her. I press one more kiss to her head, stroking my fingers through her silky hair, as I admit, ‘I’ve got you, Baby Hensley.’
Epilogue
Cherry
Two years later
The bar is almost full by the time I get here after work, and it’s not even six o’clock yet. With a massive grin on my face – as always whenever I see the red neon bar sign that spells outCherry’sabove the door – I walk inside and am immediately greeted by a wave of hearty laughter, sparkling conversation, and country music blasting from the jukebox.
Bulbs hang from the rafters above each of the high tables where customers lean, drinking and laughing away the long week. Their smiles are lit up by the rainbow of neon signs buzzing along the walls, interspersed with old licence plates from Colorado and photos from rodeos. Including one of me at my most recent amateur barrel racing competition that sits right behind the bar.ThatI try to pretend isn’t there, but the rest of Cherry’s I happily soak up, feeling the familiar energy seep into my veins. It’slike a little slice of home – exactly how I designed it. My heart is so full the minute my feet hit the wooden floor, transported back to where I grew up, even if I always knew it could never contain me forever.
And of course, home wouldn’t be complete without the tall, broad-framed man standing behind the dark wooden bar, the tattoos on his arms shifting as he pours out a cocktail, pure bliss and joy painting his face. He throws his head back with laughter, the biggest grin spreading out while he chats with the customers at the bar, completely in his element. Duke Bennett is as happy and handsome as ever, living the best of both worlds in Willow Ridge and the city – though he still doesn’t appreciate it when I call him Hannah Montana because of that, but we’ll get him there.
