Dirty Together Page 39

Holly’s mother hasn’t been seen or heard from since the day she showed up at the gate of our house in Nashville to beg for money after she spent every dime from the Yammer payout. Her pleas were met with Holly’s “No fucking way on God’s green Earth will you get another cent from us,” and a threat to call the cops.

Holly waits for the crowd to quiet before she begins her acceptance speech. “Hey, y’all. Thank you so much for this. I can’t even tell you how it feels for a girl from Gold Haven, Kentucky, who used to watch this show on the tiny TV in a singlewide trailer, to be standing on this stage accepting it. Surreal doesn’t even begin to cover it. I want to thank my husband, Creighton Karas, a man insane enough to place a missed connection ad looking for a one-night stand.”

The entire audience bursts into laughter at Holly’s blunt words.

“Because his insanity is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. I would’ve never written the songs on the album without it, and the single that got me your votes would’ve never come to be if I hadn’t met him. I love you, Crey. This is for you. It’s all for you.”

She holds the award over her head for a moment before lowering it and continuing. “I’d also like to thank my agent, my manager, and my very own label, Homegrown Records. This past year has been absolutely amazing. Thank you all.”

She steps toward backstage, and I rise to slip down the aisle and around back of the arena to meet her. Holly doesn’t know it, but following the after party, the jet is waiting on the tarmac to take us on our actual honeymoon. It may have been delayed a while due to our busy schedules, but three weeks in Bora Bora without Internet is exactly what we need. I’ve got new journals for her and her guitar already packed. Along with a few bikinis.

She’s posing for pictures when I get backstage, the award gripped in her hand.

Holly turns her head mid-pose while the dozen or so cameras continue flashing. She doesn’t even care that she’s screwing up all of their shots, because she’s caught sight of me.

“Excuse me. Can you give me a minute? Oh, and hold this.” She shoves the award into the hands of some random photographer. He drops his camera, which is luckily caught by the strap around his neck, and clutches the award to his chest.

Holly doesn’t even wait to see if he’s going to drop the thing; she just runs toward me. And when I say runs toward me, I mean she launches herself off the heels of her tall boots toward me. I catch her, wrapping my hands around her waist and holding her up, because she can’t twine her legs around me like she normally would, given the dress she’s wearing.

“I did it! I really, really did it!”

“Yeah, you did, baby. You sure did. Congratulations, Holly. You earned it.”

Her arms wrap around my neck, and she whispers, “I think you need to get me out of here because I’m about to ugly cry.”

My heart clenches at the rich tide of emotion underpinning her words. “Baby, it’s okay.”

Holly lifts her head, and sure enough, tears are already gathering in her eyes. “You need to get that award, and we need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

“You really want me to make our excuses?”

She nods vigorously. “Okay.”

I take two steps to the photographer, who is already holding out the award. “Thank you. Is there an empty room around here?”

His eyes bulge dangerously close to out of his head. “Uh . . . uh . . . That way.” He points to the right with the award. “Around the corner and down the hall. Try the second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” I say, swinging Holly up in my arms like a bride. Her face is still tucked into my neck. “Reach out a hand and grab the award, baby,” I say under my breath.

Holly complies, and I head in the direction the photographer indicated. When I find the room, I shoulder open the door and fumble for the light switch. It turns out to be a dressing room, much like so many others I’ve been in with Holly. I lower us onto a couch, and try not to think about the number of groupies who’ve been fucked on it. Taking the award from Holly’s hand, I set it safely aside.

That’s when the tears start falling. Happy tears, I hope.

Holly shakes against me, and I hold her tighter.

“I can’t believe it’s real. It just doesn’t seem like it could be real.” She swallows back a sob, and I rub her back.

“It’s real. And you earned it. You worked your ass off to get here. It’s as real as it gets.” At my last words, she lifts her tearstained face.

“As real as it gets? That’s what you said about us before.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Took me a while to believe that too.”

“I have a feeling you’ll believe this one sooner. After all, you’ve got the trophy to prove it.”

She shakes her head. “The real prize here is you.”

When I lean down to press my lips to hers, I whisper, “We’re the prize. The absolute best fucking prize of my life.” I stand and swing her into my arms again. “Now, what do you say about a honeymoon before this baby starts running our lives?”

Holly blinks, and a mischievous smile spreads across her face. “A honeymoon? Where are you taking me?”

“Does it matter?”

She moves her head from side to side, shaking it slowly. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Mr. Karas. Take me away.”

The End

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