"And I believe in Love
And I know that you do, too
And I believe in some kind of path
That we can walk down,
Me and you."
-Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
…
"Do you wanna know a secret?"
The question is murmured into his shoulder and is accompanied by silky fingertips trailing down the dips and curves of the abdominal muscles in her path. The touch spreads warmth throughout his body and even though her nails are cut short, they still send a shiver shooting straight down his spine when they tangle with the hair at the base of his stomach.
"Depends," he grumbles, tightening his hold around her shoulders and pulling her petite and lithe frame even closer to his own. "Ya plannin' on tellin' me, or we gotta play 'I Never' again, 'cause I think we're fresh outta moonshine."
She giggles in reply, causing her small but perky breasts to rub against his upper chest and Daryl has to pull at every ounce of self-restraint he's got left to stop himself from pinning her body underneath his own and sliding back in between her thighs until the only thing he can feel is bliss. It's not that he thinks she would object, and the breathy moan that escapes her lips when her sensitive nipples make contact with his tougher skin more than backs up his claim, but what she's giving him now means so much more to him than anything he could ever do with his dick.
Daryl's always been a man of simple pleasures.
They've changed and remained the same over the years. He's always hunted; always liked the thrill of getting lost in the quiet by himself while he tracked down an animal in the woods and the quick wave of pride that would last just a flash as a bolt from his crossbow hit his target with a perfect shot. It used to be that he'd hunt out of necessity, a daily part of his life that determined whether he'd eat that day or go hungry for the night, but as he'd gotten older and money stopped running so tight he'd still hadn't been able to give the custom up.
Then there was his bike. Now, he'd built that baby up from a scrap. He remembers being nineteen when Merle'd shown up at their door with his own motorcycle in tow, deciding immediately that it just wouldn't do for his baby brother to walk and that he refused to let him ride bitch with him. They'd spent that summer buying the pieces they could get their hands on from the nearby junk yards and stealing what they couldn't from whatever poor sucker left their bike in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's been nearly two decades since that summer, and Daryl still couldn't find anything that brought him more peace than riding that thing out in an open road.
Except for this girl.
When he was younger and dumber and angrier, Daryl had done everything he could think of to try and make himself forget how shitty his life was and would always be. His days had been filled with drugs and booze and being lit out of his mind until he was barely able to stutter out his own name while passed out in rooms that smelled like piss and weed. Nights hadn't been much better, and he'd lost count of how many broads he'd fucked in dirty bathrooms or hidden behind a dumpster against a wall in a dark alley. He rarely ever remembered their faces, and neither party had been interested in anything close to going steady.
He'd been a fucking tool.
As he got older and grew sick and tired of always being one step away from ending up dead or in jail he started to clean up his shit. He switched the drugs for cigarettes. Got a real, honest to God, job as a mechanic in a shop that gave him enough overtime so that his paycheck was always more than enough to cover all his bills and buy a pack of smokes and fuel for his bike. The women had dwindled down until it was only a random occurrence when his spirits were feeling high or hitting low.
And then this tiny slip of a girl had shown up in his life; all golden blonde hair flowing down to her waist and big blue eyes the color of summer skies that sparkled with joy and mischief every time she smiled. Her skin was creamy pale without a single visible mark to break its perfection and Daryl was quick to discover that it would tinge pink with a blush that would bloom in her chest and spread to her cheekbones when she was feeling bashful or embarrassed. He'll never be able to stop the smug grin from forming on his face when he remembers that same tint is always present when she's exerted, out of breath, and moaning underneath him.
She was young: just turned eighteen, and she'd set him straight with a glare and a 'you don't know me' when he'd taken a look at her cowboy boots and summer dresses and tried to keep her away by claiming he didn't have time for little girls trying to use him to piss off their Daddy.
She'd been right; he hadn't known her back then.
Daryl hadn't known that underneath all the sweetness she was tough as nails and just as fierce. He didn't know that she was loyal and protective and had the ability to love everything and everyone around her, and make people love her back just as easily. He hadn't known she was bright and smart and just as witty as the best of them. He hadn't known that a person could hold as much hurt as she carried in her heart without losing hope or being robbed of the compassion and empathy that oozed out of every single one of her pores.
He hadn't known a lot of things, and he'd been blindsided.
Beth Greene had him wrapped around her finger before he could even blink.
"No, we don't have to play that," she answers, angling her face so she can look at him and curling one of bare legs between his, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. "How about I give you three guesses instead?"
"What do I get if I guess right?"
Beth grins, that sexy little curl at the corner of her lips that warns him she's feeling bold and confident and he knows whatever she's about to say will lead to nothing but trouble. "You get to take Jello Shots off of me."
That's his girl.
Laughter rumbles in his chest and he can't keep it in when she stretches out to press a quick peck on his jaw and nuzzles in. "Make it shots of Jack and you got yourself a deal."
"Okay," she instantly agrees, and then she's sitting up to lounge against the pillows on his bed and pulling the sheet along with her to cover her breasts because even though she'd grown comfortable in her skin and he's seen and touched every inch of it, she's still sweet and innocent.
"Let's see," he pauses, pretending to heavily contemplate his first guess and giving her the most serious look he can muster. "I know," Daryl claims, lowering his mouth so that it's resting against her neck. He nips at her pulse point and she shudders when he licks the tiny wound and growls out his guess. "You like it the most when I use my tongue."
The blush is back in full force and he feels his lower body begin to stir when Beth lets out a jaded little pant that chokes in her throat. "That ain't really a secret."
"Guess not," he agrees, knowing full well that wasn't the answer she was looking for but being unable to pass up the opportunity to have her squirming next to him.
"Try again."
Daryl stares at her, and there's something in her eyes that's warning him to take this seriously, that whatever she's trying to tell him is important and she needs him to prove that he's with her and she's not alone in this thing they have going on. "You plannin' on movin' into town?"
She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. "Close, but that sorta depends on whether you can guess the secret."
"Not gonna get any hints here?"
She sits up from the pillows until she's kneeling besides him. She makes sure that the blue sheet is wrapped up tightly around her body and throws her rebellious hair off her face and behind her shoulders. Daryl can see the small light blue and purple bruises from where he'd sucked and nibbled at her chest and has to stop himself from tracing every spot.
It hits him again, just how beautiful she is. She's all delicate curbs and porcelain skin that radiates a glow and purity that a man like him should never touch or hold, but she's still here with him and he'll be damned if he ever gives her a reason to leave. She smells like lilacs in spring and tastes like a mix of strawberries and honey. She gets him higher than any drug he's ever taken and has him hooked on pink lips he always wants to kiss.
"Daryl," she says his name, taking hold of his hand and intertwining her slim and elegant fingers between his larger and calloused ones. Beth scoots closer to him, until her face is right next to his. "Guess. Please."
Daryl studies her, from the way her hands are turning clammy with nerves between his to how her bottom lip seems to be trapped between her pearly teeth. His trained hunter eyes narrow when they catch onto her breaths coming out in uneven soft huffs and her whole body trembles as she waits for him to catch on.
It's her eyes that give it away, though.
Her sky blue eyes have turned midnight blue with hope and uncertainty and a hint of fear over a possible rejection that Daryl would have never been able to miss. It's a look he'd seen enough times on his own face when he was a kid and had still hoped for his momma to leave the bottle and love him instead and for his old man to be proud of him even after he'd taken out his belt and done the damage. It's the look you give someone when you love them but don't know if they'll reciprocate or it'll all blow up in your face.
For a moment, he can't breathe.
"You're in love with me," he states, but the disbelief and shock is so obvious in his voice that it comes out more like a choked out question. It's hard enough for him to believe that Beth even wants to really be here with him, just to begin with. The idea that not only was that true, but she loved him; was in love with him was enough to make him question both their sanities. But he's looking at her and she's absolutely sure and sane and, fuck him, she really means it.
She smiles, enveloping him in a hug and wrapping her arms around his neck. Daryl's hands instantly go to her hips and he's still in a daze when she presses her lips against his and only pulls back to whisper, "you win."
…
"Are you even listenin' to me?"
Beth cringes, angling her cellphone away from her ear in hopes of avoiding just a little bit of the screeching she's sure her sister is about to send her way.
It's not that she doesn't love and miss Maggie; she does, and Beth really does feel bad over not seeing her sister in over a year but they'd both been busy and their schedules just hadn't lined up. The older Greene sister had her hands full with her two year-old son and living a busy life in Atlanta with her husband, Glenn, and their friends.
She had time to help plan Rosita's wedding with Abraham and take Tara to a resort when the girl had gone through a bad breakup. Maggie'd had time to drive her son all the way to her Daddy's farm before flying out to San Diego with the rest of her friends because Eugene had scored some super cool tickets to Comic Con for the weekend and there was just no way they could pass that up. Maggie had made time for a lot of things, but taking a weekend to spend time with her little sister had just not made the cut.
Beth had long-ago grown accustomed to playing second-fiddle in her sister's life and tried hard not to let that knowledge fill her up with resentment.
"I'm listening, Maggie," she tries to defend herself, holding the phone against her shoulder with her cheek while at the same time walking across the room to throw her passport and toothbrush into the carry-on bag she was packing. "I'm just tryin' to make sure I pack everything I need before we head to the airport."
"Ya'll are coming to Daddy's farm, Beth," Maggie's voice scolds her through the phone, and she pauses to yell at Glenn to watch his son before he crashes into her momma's glass coffee table. "I'm sure you can find whatever you leave behind here or in your old room."
Beth wants to snap.
It doesn't matter that she hasn't lived at home in five years or that she's graduated from college and has a serious job and relationship. She's still a little girl in their eyes and they all continued to treat her like a baby that needs to be coddled instead of giving her the attention and respect she'd earned and deserved. "I'm not eighteen anymore," she reminds her, taking a deep breath to control her temper and remind herself that Maggie's never been one for reigning in her opinions.
"I know. You're twenty-three and all grown up and you got a man."
She's choosing to be the bigger person and let go of the taunt. "Yes. Exactly, and I would appreciate if you didn't refer to him as 'my man' and called him by his name instead."
"'Fraid' we're gonna scare him off?"
"He don't scare easy."
"Are you sure you don't want me or Glenn to pick you guys up from the airport?"
"No, we're good," Beth tells her sister, for the fourth time since this conversation had begun. She knows that Maggie means well, but it'd be nice to know that they trusted her enough to make the right decisions without asking for their approval first. "We're renting a car for the two weeks we're staying so that we don't have trouble moving around."
"If you say so."
"I do, and I really have to finish packing now or we're gonna miss our flight. I'll see you tonight," she rushes out and hangs up the phone before her sister can object.
Beth takes a deep breath, turning her phone off and shoving it into her purse before giving in to the urge to let herself fall face down onto the bad, groaning out loud at the tension that had bunched up in her shoulders and was threatening to give her headache. Speaking with Maggie always left her feeling the same way, and she hates that a little part of her loves her sister the most when she's far, far away.
"Should I be worried that you don't want them referring to me as your 'man'?"
His voice cuts through her thoughts and Beth feels as the tension starts to slowly melt off her in tiny waves as his playful tone brings a smile to her face. He's always been good at that; knowing just what to say to make her smile and brighten up her day or when to stay quiet and give her space. Communication had never been a problem between them, and she knew deep down in her heart that he would never do or say something with the intention of hurting her.
She peaks over her head to find him grinning as he leans against the doorframe, and Beth has always been fascinated by the way his presence could fill up any room and demand attention. "Only if I have to worry about you seeing me throw my little tantrum just now."
"I happen to find those tantrums cute," he teases her, walking towards the bed and kneeling down to press a kiss against her lips before resuming the search for his missing wallet. It made her laugh to think that her usually precise and immaculate boyfriend could do something as silly as misplace something he used every day, but she guesses her own nerves and dread were rubbing off on him.
"That's because you're weird."
"You love me anyways," he throws back, a wide smile on his face and she refuses to dwell on the little pang that explodes in chest every time she hears him say it. He must have noticed, though, because his expression loses all traces of mirth and instead worry has taken its place and in a moment he's sitting beside her and holding her hand. "Hey, are you okay? You know we don't have to go if you're not feeling up to it."
Beth squeezes his fingers in reassurance, lifting one of her hands to push back a few strands of hair that draped across his forehead and covered his kind eyes. "I'm okay. You wanted to meet them and this is Otis and Patricia's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They're renewing their vows and I wouldn't miss it for the world."
He doesn't look convinced. "You know that if you want to we can go somewhere else, right? Just say the word and we'll take this vacation wherever you want."
Her heart flutters at his words and this is why she knows she has to love him.
It's not that he's offering to take her wherever she wants. She's a farm girl, plain and simple, and she'd never been embarrassed of that. Her daddy had worked hard his entire life to ensure his children had the best he could give them and Beth knew she'd lived a comfortable and enviable life, full of love and laughter and parents who would pamper her. She had grown up helping to clean up after their horses and cattle and picking up eggs with Maggie every other morning and spending summers out in the pond while Shawn promised not to scare her.
When she was younger she'd spent entire days out in the garden with her momma, knees and elbows deep in mud and grime as they worked together to make something beautiful and those were some of the most precious memories she carried in her heart. Patricia would smile when she'd come out to bring them lemonade and always made sure to have plenty of sugar cookies available for the duo.
She wants to share this part of herself with him. She wants him to see who she was before he met her when she was already in college and away from everything that had shaped her into the person she became. She wants him to see the pictures and hear the stories of her when she was a teenager obsessed with her favorite pair of cowboy boots and with having her hair pulled back into a pony tail and when she'd carried the biggest torch for Blake Shelton, instead of a woman in her early twenties who was always dolled up in elegant dresses and high heels as he waltzed her around in his arm from function to function.
And he wants that, too.
He wants to see all of it; all of her. He wants to meet her sister and make a good impression on her father. He wants to see with his own eyes where she grew up and listen to her as she tells him all the little quirks and habits that one can only learn from growing up surrounded by people you trusted. He wants to watch her sing in the little café where she'd told him she used to perform during open mic night when she was sixteen and fearless.
He wants to give the world and all she has to do is place her hands in his and take it.
"This is where we have to be," Beth tells him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them again and smiling at the man who'd proven to her he loved her, over and over again. "Now let's hurry up before we're late."
He nods, and they spend the following hour making sure they've disconnected all the appliances inside their apartment and that everything's packed away and their car reservation is verified. He finds his wallet ten minutes before they have to leave, and she blushes when it turns up bunched up underneath the dress she'd been wearing the previous night and on top of her dirty clothes hamper. She's just finished locking up when he presses her against the wall and kisses her until she's out of breath and blinking up at his big brown eyes as her arms wrap around his waist.
"I love you, Beth," he tells her again, and she forces the words out of her chest before they can even try to anchor into the pit of her stomach.
"I love you too, Pete."
…
AN: Hey all! Hope you like this one so far!
Just to clarify, the top part in italics takes place over the summer when Beth turned eighteen and is in Daryl's POV. The bottom part takes place in present time, where she's twenty-three and it's in Beth's. I'm going to be following that format for a couple of chapters until what happened in the past gets explained. Daryl's forty-one now and I'm placing Pete at around thirty-two.
Also, I'm using Pete because I liked his character. He had honor and he believed in doing good, and Zach and Jimmy didn't fit into the role I needed for this story.
Anyways, don't forget to review! And I'll be updating my other two stories in a few hours so keep a look out for that, too.