repeat and reach out with my hand to brush a lock of her long hair behind her ear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night you walked out on me.”
She starts to open her mouth, but I shake my head, already refuting whatever sassy, defensive response she’s going to try to toss my way.
“Look, I know I fucked up. I know I fucked up real bad and tried to control things that weren’t mine to control. I let jealousy get the best of me. But, see, what you don’t realize is that I’m just a man, and sometimes, men say all the wrong things in the name of protecting something that means a fuck of a lot to them. Sometimes we make mistakes because of the woman we love. Because we need her. Because we want her. Because we can’t live without her. Doesn’t make it right, but it’s the truth.”
She searches my eyes.
“I love you, darlin’. You hold my fucking heart in both of your small hands.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and I step even closer, pressing my lips to her forehead.
“I just want you. Only you. All day, every day,” I whisper against her skin. “And, fuck, I’m so proud of you. Tonight, seeing you on that stage, watching you with that crowd, hearing you sing your songs, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.”
I look down at her, and she stares up into my steady gaze.
“You love me?”
“More than anything.”
Silence stretches between us, and it takes all my goddamn willpower not to pull her into my arms and press my lips to hers, but I stay strong.
I wait.
I give her time.
Because this is her decision. Not mine.
“I’ve missed you too, you know,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah?”
She nods. “And I love you too, you cranky bastard.”
A raspy laugh jumps from my lungs, and I let myself give in to the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her.
My lips to hers, I show her just how much I’ve missed her.
Just how much I love her.
Just how much she means to me.
She moans against my mouth, and I feel it to my fucking bones.
“Cut!” Howie shouts.
But it takes another two shouts of “Cut!” for me to come back down to earth.
When I finally manage to pull my mouth away from Birdie’s and look down at her, it’s apparent by the heated look in her eyes, I’m not the only one who was a little lost in that scene.
“Everyone, that’s a wrap!” Howie shouts. “We are officially done with production on Grass Roots!”
The cast and crew surrounding the set dive into applause and hoots and hollers, and Howie makes his way on set to give Birdie and me hugs.
“Goddamn, you two actually did it,” he comments through a chuckle. “Great job. Great fucking job.”
Birdie giggles. I grin.
“Congratulations, everyone!” Howie turns back toward the rest of the cast and crew. “We did it! And tonight, to celebrate, I want to see everyone at the Copper Door, dancing and drinking their fucking asses off!”
More cheers follow his words.
And while I want to pull Birdie into my arms again and kiss the fucking hell out of her, I have to fight the urge. She’s made it clear that she currently wants to keep this all a secret, and I have to respect that.
Although, that doesn’t mean that since we’re finally done with filming, I can’t work to convince her otherwise.
While Howie starts rambling excitedly in my ear about being finished, I watch as Birdie walks off set and in the direction of her trailer. It takes a whole five minutes for me to point Howie’s mouth toward someone else’s ear and follow her.
When I step inside her trailer, I’m happy to find her alone, sliding off her cowgirl boots and sitting down on the small sofa.
I don’t let her stay sitting for long, though.
In three strides, I’m lifting her back off the sofa and into my arms.
“What the hell?” she mutters on a giggle.
I wrap her legs around my waist, grip her perfect ass in my hands, and press my nose to hers. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Birdie. You nailed that scene. Actually, you nailed the whole damn film.”
Her eyes search mine. “You really think so?”
“I know so.” I press my lips to hers. Once, twice, three times, until I coax her mouth into deepening the kiss.
And that delicious kiss goes on for a long fucking time.