I Run to You (52 page)

Levi snorted. “You two are all lovely dovey.
So, that’s nothing.”

“It is to her. “

Levi sighed. “You talk on the phone and you
miss her all the time.”

“I do.” Coy leaned his forehead on the
wood.

“I’ll bet she misses you like that, too.”

“Sometimes… when you love someone, taking
your time with things is the best way.”

Levi rolled to his side. The action figure
lax in his hand. “It was nice when she came to the school pageant.
Wasn’t it? She was smiling and clapping. I messed up my poem
though.”

Coy’s heart squeezed. He raised his head and
went to stroke his son’s hair. “Yes. It was nice.”

Levi had that vulnerable look he hid most of
the time, and though he didn’t look at Coy, Coy saw it clear
enough. His son murmured, “She likes you so much, Dad. I can tell.
She loves you, too.”

Coy rubbed his back, saying nothing. Because
he couldn’t voice all his fears and wants to a little boy. He
finally said prayers with Levi, including Brook and pup, and then
carried the laundry out.

After he put it in, he sat in the dark, on
the edge of his bed—and wept.

Even having her was not enough. Winter
sucked. Jacking off—sucked. Everything in him ached for her.
Everything felt torn apart—unless he was with her.

Lying back on the bed, Coy remembered her at
Max’s wedding, at the café, with the spring sun in her hair.
Laughing with Renee in the girls. Walking tiredly to her car after
work—needing a hug, needing to be held. He thought of her—battered
in that hospital, admiring her strength and determination to move
on. He thought of her conversations, of her talking about
friends—and talking dirty—learning to.

He saw her in her best, looking stylish,
classy. In her cut offs, wet, and makeup free. In the bed—sensual
and sexy, in her work clothing— a long day’s make up fading
off.

He rubbed his wet face, rolled to his side,
and held to the scrunched pillow. He saw her with Levi, the two of
them romping in the field. Her stroking Levi’s hair. He heard her
yelling, whistling as Levi did his little shamrock poem, forgetting
his lines. She had said repeatedly, “He’s so smart. He was
wonderful.”

... Sipping from his coffee cup. Wearing his
shirt. Looking at him through tears of passion as they sexed each
other, rough and hungry.

At the clubs, hip and tearing up the bass,
singing and rocking out. A thousand images with sounds and scents.
A thousand reasons—he loved her beyond words.

A thousand aches in his body—because he did
not want to lose her again.

Chapter 23

Opening day of the Mill was just as
hectic—-and more crowded than the year before.

Brook helped until time for their set, but
she was tense and nervous for other reasons too. She had joked with
the family, as they did their sets, razzed G.W. between his MCing,
using the distraction to slip pepper into his snuff; she had
cracked up with he put in a dip and started spitting like
crazy.

Handing him water she had said, “Be glad I
didn’t go with the cayenne. I owed you, for those pictures.”

She saw Coy on and off, as they had passed
each other. Once, when he was seated on the steps to the stage,
taking a much-needed break. She had brought him something cold to
drink and a snack.

He had consumed those and pulled her to him
for a hard cookie flavored kiss that about 300 people
witnessed.

“Kick ass.”

“You too.”

Before turning, as someone was hollering for
him back stage, he muttered, “After my set, wait for me. We’ll run
away together, anywhere, somewhere.”

“Yes.” Her gaze held his for a second before
had to turn and go.

That stayed on her mind. She had sought out
Jason, and set up something—she hoped—would speak the words she
didn’t get the time to say to Coy. Words, she felt, and knew he
did. But time, work—and her own hesitation— had held them back.

They were going to introduce the change to
Coy, sometime during the end of their set. Right now, she had her
own to do.

Max and Jordan’s flight was late. They were
tired but sitting up front with family and friends.

Everyone stilled and the crowd hushed for a
very special, unexpected performance from Mitch.

He stood in the spotlight, silver hair
gleaming and dressed in all black, with his guitar. He sang to
Madeline—who, obvious to Brook and the family— fell in love with
him through every second of the song, she’s every woman. They made
Brook believe in forever love. To see it so apparent between
them.

When Brook went back stage, Renee was
dressed, ready, and going over the words of (white liar), she would
open with. The band was preparing mentally.

Brook had changed from the sweats she’d worn
earlier into a long summer dress that looked like skirt and top, it
crisscrossed in back, and had a diamond shaped cut out in the mid
drift, a dark purple, with white orchids. She did her makeup and
tried not to let her hand tremble and poke her eye out.

She was sweating, nervous—more than any time
in her life.

“You’re on, in... one…two…three…”

She tossed the makeup. The girls did a group
hug, a quick prayer, and then went to the stage amid applause.

They opened strong with, white Liar. Then,
Brook used the time Donna sang a classic hard rock tune, to find
Coy.

He was closer to the stage, and smiled at
her, gave her a thumbs up, already dressed for their own set, in
fresh tailored shirt and black pants, his boots. His hair looked
windblown—and his eyes—loving her.

Just before they were finished, and between
applause, Brook set the bass on a stand, and picked up an
acoustic.

She adjusted the strap and walked to the edge
of the stage, leaning so Renee could adjust the head mic.

That done, she swept her family and friends
with a glance, while Renee talked to the crowd.

They were smiling, giving her, I love you,
signs. Because Brook rarely sang alone.

She finally looked at Coy. She saw him lay
his hand on his heart and wink.

She glanced behind her at the band and
counted off, then began to strum as the drumbeat started, and Brook
was singing, Fallin for you, by Colbie Cailliat, her eyes never
leaving Coy’s face.

I been spending all my time just thinking of
you…

I just can’t ta…ke… it…My heart is
racing….

She saw Coy’s eyes were damp behind his
smile. He bit down on his lip and got up out of his seat, coming to
stand just below her.

Brook smiled, singing, “I’ve been waiting all
my life and now I’ve found you…I... think I’m falling for you….

When she sang the last note to a thunderous
applause and whistles, Brook walked back to hand off the
acoustic.

She heard whistles and yells but didn’t see
that Coy had come up the steps, and jumped over equipment to get on
stage.

Before she could pick up her bass, he grabbed
her and kissed her, bending her back and glazing her eyes with the
passion of it.

By the time he straightened, Brook was
blinking, much to the entertainment of the crowds.

He was jumping back off and going to his seat
again. The family teased him, slapping him on the back.

“Can you play?” Renee laughed as she strapped
the bass on.

Brook blew out a breath, her face a little
red, “I’ll try.”

Laughing, Renee took her spot and said to the
crowd, “That’s a hard act to follow.”

They laughed.

Renee told them, “This song means something
to me and the greatest guy I’ve ever met.” She looked at Sunny. “If
he’ll be patient with me, I’ll make him the happiest man in the
world.”

The crowd laughed and whistled.

Brook saw Sunny grinning.

Renee began signing the amusing and hard
driving, “My life would suck without you.” The Coburn females
singing back up.

Brook played the bass line, watching Sunny as
Renee walked to his side of the stage. She had never seen him so
into a song. He was nodding his head, rocking his body to the beat.
Hell, he looked good. The song was fun—and way too true.

They ended their set with that, and left the
crowd in a high mood, chanting and whooping “Audacious!” which the
girls laughed about. It sounded like “Awwwww daaaa cious.” It had
become a familiar drawled out chant at their shows.

Of course, their encore was to put down the
guitars and sing a sexy (Give it to me right) with their eyes on
the men, they were speaking to.

Their set a resounding success, once over,
Brook stayed behind stage, drinking a water, trying not to pace
while Jason, Coy and Lee, and Doug set up.

Mitch was not playing with the band, his
carpal tunnel was flaring up, but he would sing one song with them,
she figured. Because he had his long time loyal fans that looked
forward to it.

Younger Coburn’s would close out the
show.

Brook wiped her sweating hands. Coy would be
looking for her in the crowd and wondering where she was.

He was a consummate performer though, like
all his family.

Jason sang. The group did harmony on Down on
Bended knee. Then performed, How you remind me. The crowd loved
them.

It seemed like forever. Her stomach was in
knots when she came closer to the entry of the stage. It was dark
out. The stage lights up.

She was close enough to hear Coy say to
Jason, “What the hell? If G.W. comes in singing the female part in
a wig and dress, I’m going to kick all y’all’s asses.”

Jason laughed, “Sing the damn song.”

“I’ll get you back for this.”

Brook looked at Jason who was searching for
her while Coy was busy going to his spot.

He was chatting off handed with the
crowd.

At her nod, Jason smiled and gave Coy the
signal.

She could almost guess Coy was expecting some
practical joke. However, he was going to give his best, no matter
what.

At the right Moment—the intro into Lady
Antebellum, Run to you, began…

Coy sang, “I ruuuun from pain…

Brook’s heart thudded, her blood rushed.

She waited and then held up her mike and
picked up, “I ruuuun my life, or is it running me…She walked toward
Coy.

He turned, singing, his eyes shining with a
look she would never forget. She kept walking toward him singing
with him, “When lies become the truth, that’s when I run to
you….”

She reached for him. He took off the guitar
and took a mic, reaching for her hand. They sang, facing each
other,

“When it all starts coming undone, baby,
you’re the only one I run to.

“Our love’s the only truth….that’s why I run
to yooou….”

Brook never looked away from him, nor did his
eyes stray from her. It was magic, wonderful magic. Their voices
perfect. The words—everything in their soul….

“I run to you, I run to you, baby….”

She could not hear the crowd going crazy.

The Coburns were screaming and yelling, and
Madeline was crying—Hell the whole damn place went crazy.

The song over, the band kept playing, but Coy
had taken Brook in his arms. They were kissing, holding tightly.
Brook had tears spilling free as Coy took her hand— then they were
running off the stage, down the steps, and toward his truck.

In the truck, Brook and Coy kissed like
mad.

He started it, they pulled out. However,
kissing, crying— and trying to drive was something else. But
neither would recall the drive to his house.

They were out of the truck, kissing, fumbling
to open the door. In the great room, it was hands touching, and
clothing being tugged off— a trail of them falling behind, until
somehow they were on his bed.

Coy had her under him. Brook held him between
her legs, whispering breathless, and tear thickened, “Now. Now
.Coy. I need you.”

He filled her, joined them, and offered
hoarsely, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

His was taking her. The deeper thrusts evoked
more cries from Brook. Her hips arched, legs holding him. Nothing
in the world existed while they reached for the core of each
other.

They flew, drowned, and they soared—lost
themselves, in the rawness of emotions coupled with giving, taking,
claiming, and being claimed.

Whispers, half words, utterances broke
through the harsh breathy and moans.

It was indescribable, to Coy’s mind, how he
felt about this woman. How he had flown, when she sang to him—with
him.

He thought his chest would burst when she
appeared on stage, during That song, singing Those words…

Shifting his body so he could kiss her, he
tasted the salt of mingled tears. He breathed his sighs into her
mouth and took hers into his own.

It was all there, hunger, love, the profound
feeling of their bodies being joined...

At his peak, he felt a kind of exquisite
quickening go through him when he heard her cry… “I love you. Oh
.God…I love you, Coy.”

Brook held him through his shudders, and then
rolled with him to their sides, their hold on each other unbroken
for long, drawn out, moments.

He gathered himself. Her heart had slowed to
a steady beat. Coy cupped her face, their gazes locked. “Say it.
One more time.”

“I love you.” She smiled and covered his
hands. “I never stopped loving you.”

He gathered her to him, holding her
close.

For Brook, the night was filled with
tenderness and whispers—the releasing desires and setting free all
the pain of the past, all the fears of the future.

When they were not love making, they talked
quietly, in the bed, out on the deck, in the bathroom after a
shower. Everything he felt, all these months, all that she did too,
spilled out. And, there was holding, kissing, soothing—to erase the
bad and replace it with wonderful.