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When she’s invited to perform her new yet to be released single, “ Make me Like You” at the Grammys in January, she’s naturally excited at first. Despite how bashful she was sometimes offstage, she loved being onstage, and it would be so rad to get to perform her new single that was all about her new wonderful life after last year’s Grammys had been such a shit show (she’d wondered why the hell Gavin hadn’t joined her like they’d planned and then gotten a text from him giving some excuse about a last minute tour date and then the next day she’d found her nanny’s naked pictures on her son’s iPad). She said yes immediately (because she knew these slots went quickly and if she didn’t take it someone else would), before she’d really thought of the implications.
It’s as the nominations roll in a couple days after she says yes that it really hits her what that means. Blake’s by her side and they have the TV on low volume in his house in Oklahoma, and she’s wrapped up back against his chest and he’s placing soft warm kisses on her neck. His lips make little smooch sounds every time they touch her skin, and she feels him inhale her scent along with the kisses as he nuzzles his nose into her. They're talking (well Gwen’s talking and Blake’s murmuring words back to her through his kisses), and the fireplace is roaring, and it’s a great evening. Blake had cooked her a fantastic meal (he was a better cook than she was; despite his manly man facade) and had plied her with red wine and chocolate raspberry souffle, and she was full, sated, and content, the wine relaxing her into a near doze.
Just then, through the din of her own thoughts and his soft embraces, the nominations come in for his category and Blake’s name is announced along with Ashley’s. She squeals slightly, and startles him out of his kisses. She turns rapidly in his arms so she’s face to face with him, and she cups his face as she kisses him firmly. “You gotta nomination!” She said joyfully to him. His eyes fell onto the screen, and he beamed out this slow, surprised grin (one of the things that still surprised her about him was that he didn’t seem to know how good he was; he was genuinely surprised each and every time he got recognized for anything at all and was always so flattered by it that it made her want to kiss him every time). He kissed her then, a slow happy thing, before turning her around in his arms again so he could cover her neck in kisses, this time with a little teeth (and he had a strange obsession with her neck; she swore she’d worn more turtlenecks in the past three months with him than in the past ten years. She’d gotten so used to seeing bright purple hickies on her skin or soft red suction marks or slight indentations from his teeth that it didn’t even phase her anymore, and Blake always looked so pleased with himself afterwards that she didn’t really mind).
She sunk back into his kisses with a soft sigh, letting him gently move her hair out of the way so he could kiss the other side of her neck, when it hit her. They were both involved with the Grammys this year. Should they go together? Should they walk the red carpet together, even though Blake’s award was in the non-televised category? She must have tensed in his arms a little, because his lips froze on her neck and made their way up to her ear, where he gently sucked it before murmuring, “What’s wrong darlin’?” as he turned her head to the side so she could see him with his hand on her chin. She stared at him for a moment, all content mussed curls and soft crows feet around his eyes, looking relaxed and happy, and bit her lip. Suddenly, it was important that she know the answer to the Grammy question right now.
“Are we going to the awards together?” She asked softly, and his body tensed ever so slightly. His hands tightened where they were wrapped around her waist, and his leg twitched a little. He gave her a slightly pained grimace.
“Gwen, darlin’, I want nothin’ more than to walk down the carpet with ya but the cameras…” He trailed off, and she got it. Whereas she’d been used to being photographed for twenty years, Blake was still new to it, and the level of scrutiny she got was transferring onto him and she knew he hated it. Hell, at the movie theatre he’d practically had a nervous breakdown and lost it in front of the paps before he’d had to pull her aside to bury his face in her neck for a second in an abandoned corner, taking in shallow shaking breaths at first until she’d calmed him enough for him to face the world again.
As she sat there with him on the couch that night, she unexpectedly felt her eyes fill with tears. His expression turned pained at seeing her, and he squeezed her tighter into his arms. She laughed wetly, “I don’t even know why i’m crying, it’s not like I mind. It would be like, so public,” she said. Even as she was saying it, she was nosing into his neck, arms wrapping around him, tears rolling down her face. She didn’t realize it had meant this much to her until this second, she honestly didn’t think she cared, but at that moment she wanted—no needed— for him to come to the awards with her and pose for too many public pictures and make the award night a great one instead of the beginning of the end in her memories. She sniffled into his neck, and he sighed, deep and weary, hands rubbing over her back.
“Darlin…. god it hurts my heart to see you cry,” Blake said, his voice pained. She laughed a little.
“Well then your heart must be hurt all the time because I am a waterworks fountain lately,” She mumbled into his skin. He shushed her gently, stroking over her hair. She sniffled again, and pulled in her tears as best she could. “I don’t mind Blake, really. If you weren’t planning on going anyways, you shouldn’t. I’ll be fine; i’ll perform and then get outta there.” She’s saying the words but he’s shushing her again, pulling her face up to kiss her softly on her lips and then over her cheeks, washing away her tear tracks with his mouth. They make out then for awhile, not really having it go anywhere, just enjoying each other.
He breaks away from her lips to stare into her eyes for a few seconds, bright blue meeting deep chocolate brown. She bites her lips as she looked at him, and he smiled a little into his dimples.
“If I have to listen to some rap dude on the stage i’m outta there,” he says finally, softly, and she tilts her head for a second until it hits her he's talking about the Grammys. She squeals in a way not at all Minnie Mouse-like (not one bit) and throws her arms around his neck, kissing his cheeks over and over again. He grins at her as his arms tighten around her waist, and then she’s kissing him with intent and pretty soon he’s picking her up to take her to his bedroom and blanket her with his body as he sets her on the bed.
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Adorably, he comes to her for advice about what to wear. She knows he has a stylist for events like these (and given his previous Grammy pictures he's used them) but he tells her “I know you’re gonna look drop dead gorgeous and I gotta keep up, darlin.’” She takes him shopping at his request (Blake Shelton at Armani is nothing she’d ever seen before; and he looked so horrendously out of place with his hat and his plaid shirt and cowboy boots that she’d had a fit of laughter that brought tears to her eyes when they left the store. He’d laughed along with her and they’d stood in the street on Rodeo Drive giggling like a couple of loons for too long, probably giving the paparazzi too many pictures of them), and helps him pick out a pair of slim fit black pants (but not skinny, oh no, she knew how he felt about skinny jeans and was going to respect that) with a black vest and a crisp white dress shirt. His tie and corresponding pocket square (he’d balked a little at the pocket square for his vest but she’d taken it and when the sales associate had left the room had trailed the scrap of silk over the neck of his open collar, leaning up to whisper in his ear how much fun they could have with it later if he wore it. He’d swallowed a groan down and had agreed instantly, and she’d grinned) were a beautiful ruby red, and he’d given her a sneaky smile in the dressing area.
“ So you’re gonna be wearin’ red, then?” He said, looking gleeful. She’d refused to tell him anything about her dress, only that it was a dress (he’d mock pouted and told her he was hoping they’d both wear jeans and their camo hats with cowboy boots, and she’d giggled at him). She’d just shrugged with a secretive little smile and taken his hat off of his head to slip on her own, doing a little two step. He’d laughed then, and he’d taken her waist and hadn’t let go until the sales associate had come back.
The night of the awards, she shoos him back to his house in the Hollywood Hills around lunchtime, batting his hands away where they’d tried to untie her silk robe as he smeared kisses on her neck. She’d laughed a little and told him to come get her with the car around six, and he’d mock bowed before kissing her breathless as he walked out the door. She stepped into the shower, carefully washing her body and her hair before slipping on a robe and taking in her dress hanging in the wardrobe. It was a beautiful Marchesa, black with a sleeve/cape combination that Liz had said made her look like royalty in the front (she’d blushed; her assistant was too good to her). In the back, though, where Blake loved to kiss down in bed, it was almost completely missing, with the sleeves of the cape flowing down around her arms and gaping at the back until it got to just above her ass. Almost her entire back would be on display, and she was looking forward to seeing his face. She’d put her hair up in a french twist to show her neck (because she knew Blake would like that too) and had picked a lipstick the exact shade of red as his tie, finishing it off with sky high Louboutins.
It wasn’t until she was fully dressed and had called Liz in from another part of the house to see how she looked that she got a good look at her full self. The whole process had taken three hours, and as she caught a glimpse of herself in the three way mirror, she gasped because she felt unstoppably beautiful (and wasn’t that a nice change from the past years, where she’d felt inadequate no matter how much makeup she’d caked on her face). Liz had gaped at her when she’d come in, a huge smile on her face.
“ Holy shit Gwen,” She’d said, grinning widely. Gwen had grinned gleefully at the younger woman before turning so she could face her, the dress flowing around her as she turned. Liz clapped. Gwen blushed, and bit the inside of her cheek.
“ D’ya think Blake’ll like it?” Gwen asked. Liz’s eyes widened.
“ Do I think he’ll like it?! What are you crazy woman!?” This was why Gwen loved Liz; she didn’t treat her like a celebrity and was unfailingly honest. Liz loved Blake; she thought they were perfect together. It had been a nice change for how her assistant had felt about Gavin (after they’d gotten divorced Liz had told her Gavin had tried to hit on her one night a year and a half ago and Liz had told him to stick his head up his own ass). “ You just better make sure he doesn’t drop his phone again,” Liz finished, and Gwen blushed. She remembered that; remembered the night of the Voice finale when she’d come out in that red dress and Blake had literally gasped, his phone slipping far to the ground and shattering as he brought his hands up to his mouth. He’d kissed her hands and hugged her, leaning down to murmur in her ear about how not worth it of her he was. It was only when Adam pointed out his phone that he realized he’d dropped it, and the audience had ‘awwed’ as Blake blushed deeply and gone to pick it up, wincing when he’d seen the screen. Gwen had giggled wildly with her hands over her mouth, and Blake’s face had zeroed in on hers; he’d carelessly slipped his broken phone in his pocket as he went back to help her to her seat and that had been that. He’d gotten a new one the next morning.
Gwen wiped her sweaty hands on one of the towels in her dressing area. Suddenly, she was beyond nervous. They’d spent so long trying to get away from the paparazzi; now they were practically embracing the flashing cameras. That and she was wondering what to do if Blake won his category. Should she kiss him? Should she hug him? She knew it was going to be televised, and that fact was only adding to her nerves. The doorbell rang, and Gwen knew it was Blake and the car. Gwen took another calming breath. Showtime.
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When Gwen opened the door, she saw Blake’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open. He looked exquisite; he was standing there with his hair in the attractive pompadour his stylist had started to use, that damn red pocket square in his vest pocket, black leather cowboy boots she’d never seen before on his feet (he’d tell her later that he’d bought them just for the night).
“ Holy shit,” Blake blurted and then blushed, stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. His eyes traced her front up and down, and he had an awed expression on his face. With his other hand, he handed her a red rose, the thorns trimmed off of the stem. She blushed and grinned, bringing it up to her nose.
“ Hi,” She said. He moved to touch her, and she shook her head. She wanted to give him a little show. Instilling in herself a confidence she used for photoshoots that sometimes she didn’t really feel, she let the rose stroke over her face as she turned in a certain way, looking over her shoulder and letting the dress billow behind her. She heard more than saw Blake’s gasp, and she smiled. “ Let me get my purse and then we can go,” She said teasingly, starting to walk towards her front table where her clutch was. He stopped her though, with the sound of the front door closing and a hand on her left arm, and his thumb stroked over her skin. She heard a sound then, and almost shrieked when she felt his heat right behind her, but lower. He’d kneeled and was kissing her bare back, soft little smooshing kisses that made her skin tingle. His lips traced down her skin until they’d gotten to the small of her back, where she’d felt the poke of his tongue as it had lightly touched her skin. She’d made a small sound then, and his fingertips had traced up her back as he stood. He’d smeared his lips over the back of her neck and her shoulders at the border of the dress, and his hands had come around her waist. He’d squeezed her to him, back to front, and her hands had come to intertwine with his.
“ You..” His voice was hoarse, and she blushed; it was kind of unbelievable that she’d made him lose his voice, “ are,” he kissed under her jaw, “ incredible.” He scraped his teeth ever so slightly along her hairline, and she beamed while her face flushed. The next moment, she was frowning slightly, because she felt something hard and oddly shaped against her bare back. She decided to have a little fun with him.
“ Is that a box in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” She teased lightly. He laughed against her skin, and she laughed too. She felt his movement as he pulled whatever it was out.
“ Well… now that you mention it darlin’,” he said, brandishing a box in front of her as he stepped around her to face her. The logo said Harry Winston, and Gwen’s mouth fell open. He motioned for her to take it and she did, opening the box to find the most beautiful diamond earrings she’d ever seen. They were large without being gaudy, and one diamond swirled around the other in an abstract baroque pattern. She gasped, and put a hand to her chest.
“ Blake…” She said, a little overwhelmed. He smiled a her, and kissed her fingers.
“ Will ya wear them tonight?” He asked softly. She stared up at him, her eyes no doubt adoring, before nodding softly, breaking away from him to go to the hall mirror and slip the earrings in her ear. They go with the dress like they were made for it, and he comes behind her again to kiss over the back of her neck. “ They look beautiful on you,” he murmured through his kisses, and she beamed, looking at their reflection in the hall mirror.
“ You’re beautiful,” She says softly, and he flushes (because she’s never called him beautiful and he’s probably never heard it; but he does, all curls and eyes and long long legs).
He keeps a hand over the bare small of her back as they make their way to the car, and he entwines their fingers the second they get inside.
On the red carpet, he keeps a hand wrapped around her and they smile and smile for the cameras, and the cameras get too many pictures of them looking adoringly into each other’s eyes and him kissing her at the side of her head. Gwen doesn’t perform for another hour, so she sits down next to him, entwining their fingers, mindful of the fact that there are cameras filming them from every angle.
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When Blake’s category comes up an hour later, it’s rather anticlimactic. Gwen’s hand is tracing up and down his bare arm and his fingers are curled towards her, and their feet brush. She knows Blake expects Joey and Rory to win (she knows he wishes they would even though she wants him to win for the validation it gives him that he seems to desperately need sometimes), and so he’s perfectly relaxed as he grins at her through the side of his mouth. Then they announce his name as the winner along with Ashley’s, and the camera pans to him. He’s completely still for a second and then claps a hand over his mouth with wide eyes, totally overwhelmed. She knows Ashley’s not there (and besides, they didn’t have the best relationship; the woman had totally taken Miranda’s side in the divorce and had pretty much ignored Blake) and so he’ll have to go up onstage by himself, but he’s not moving.
She thinks of nothing but her boyfriend then (certainly not about the cameras on them) because she runs a hand through his hair and cups his cheek to turn his head to look at her, mouthing ‘ You did it!’ at him. He grins then, wild and happy, and stands to go up onstage, but not before pulling her to her feet and throwing his arms around her. She grins too, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He cups her cheeks and gives her a chaste but passionate kiss, and she wraps her hands around his hands on her cheeks through her smile. He finishes it off with a few short kisses to her face, and she has to push him away to whisper in his ear that he has to go onstage now. He turns and leaves before she can do anything about the red lipstick stain on his lips, and she blushes while putting her fingers to her lips as she sits back down.
The presenter has to murmur to him about the lipstick when she hands him the award, and he blushes and rubs a hand over his mouth at the microphone. He’s gracious and polite towards Ashley (that’s one of the many things she loves about him; how unfailingly nice he is even to the people who haven’t treated him very nicely) and he finishes the last fifteen seconds of the speech by saying something that makes her eyes water and her clap a hand over her mouth.
“ Finally, now I know i’m gonna be done here soon, but I just wanted to thank the person who has really saved me over the past year. I can’t believe I get to be with someone as stunning as she is every day, and I thank God that she was brought into my life. I love you Darlin’, and I can’t wait to see ya perform up here in a couple minutes,” He finishes with a smile in her direction, and she feels her eyes fill even though he never mentions her name. God, sometimes he’s so overwhelming in the best way possible. She knows the camera’s on her again, knows she probably looks like a lovesick fool, but she doesn’t care. When he gets back to his seat after his interviews, she’s already had to leave to change for her performance, but she leaves him a note on his seat from the small tablet in her purse that simply says I love you too and she draws a few hearts and flowers around it.
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She performs her heart out that night, buoyed by his praise of her and the energy of the night. She knows she looks good if a bit different than she usually does when she performs (because she’s wearing a pair of black cowboy boots that he got her along with her fringed punk get up and she can’t wait to see his reaction when she’s done) and she has a blast up there. The audience goes mad, but her only focus is Blake once she hears a wild WOHOO and a whistle through the lights that can only come from her boyfriend. She grins as she bows along with her choreographers, and then sprints offstage to her very temporary dressing room.
She’s wiping the sweat off of her brow when there’s a knock at the door, a frantic and fast pounding. She opens it and oofs as her boyfriend lifts her legs up to wrap around his thighs as he kisses her frantically. He leads them inside and shuts the door, and he’s kissing all over her face with his hands on her ass. He breaks away with a wet pop then, his lips smeared with her red lipstick again, and beams at her.
“ You were fantastic,” He says simply, giving her that dimpled smile. She preens a little, grinning back as her arms are wrapped around his neck.
“Thanks,” She says back, giving him gentle kisses over and over on his lips. His legs release her ass to trail over her boots, and he beams again.
“ You’re wearin’ my boots,” He says, sounding flattered as he nuzzles on her cheek. She nods.
“ Yup,” She grins at him. “ Can I be your cowgirl?” She murmurs in his ear. He laughs, loud and deep, and leans his forehead against hers.
“ Always darlin’” He says back. He kisses on her nose then with a soft smack, grinning at her.
“ Should we get outta here?” She nods, grateful. As fun as the evening as been, she’s ready to leave. He releases her legs and she grabs her stuff, entwining their fingers. She’s feeling daring tonight; maybe it’s because she’s had one of the best evenings she can remember in comparison to last year’s Grammys, maybe it’s because he was so warm with his praise, maybe it’s because she feels beautiful and sexy and adored and loved. But, before they open the door, she turns around, pushing him against it and giggling at his surprised huff. She runs her hands up his chest, wrapping around his neck.
“ You know?” She says, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He tilts his head at her, swallows, and nods. “ If you asked me to marry you I wouldn’t mind,” She says coyly, winking at him and kissing him at the corner of his mouth before she opens the door around his body. He’s standing there, completely gape mouthed for a second, but then a beam suffuses his features and he practically glows. He grabs her hand and kisses over where an engagement ring would go, and the worship in his lips makes her blush (what she doesn’t know is that he’s been wanting to do it for the past month, but has been looking for the right ring. Everything he sees no matter how expensive just doesn’t seem right for everything that she is. What they both don’t know is that he’ll find one, a five carat ruby stunner that once belonged to Audrey Hepburn at an antique auction. It’ll be worth the 2.2 million dollar price tag, and Adam will make fun of him for spending a small fortune on a ring).
“ Let’s go cowgirl, “ Is all he says in response to that. She grins again and they walk out of the building and into the LA night.