Carol starts to experience rodeo life on the circuit, but someone from Daryl's past causes her to wonder if he has been up front with her about his intentions.
Lemonade
As Daryl watched the last woman he'd ever expected to see tonight drive away, something that Rick had said when they'd spoken earlier at the bar made him pull out his cell and press the third number on his speed dial.
"Hey 'Sita, sorry to call so late." he paused as she replied and then he chuckled, "Yeah well, now I'm doubly sorry." Another pause and he continued, "You workin' the Adams Valley rodeo in two days?" another shorter pause, "Well, why don't you come find me when you get a free minute." He chuckled again, "Yeah, it'll be good to see you too. Take care now."
He thumbed off the phone and then headed for his truck, hoping there was a free room at the motel where he'd planned to stay with Merle, one of only two in this small town, so he didn't have to sleep in the back seat of the king cab like the old days when they'd been rodeoing on a shoe string. He was getting too old and beat up for that shit.
He flexed his left knee and then his elbow on the same side, testing the ache in them and finding them manageable. The two beers he'd had tonight didn't preclude him taking some of the prescription pain relievers he still had from his last bad spill off a mean son of a bitch of a bull half a year ago, but he'd almost gotten himself completely weaned off the stuff and tried to avoid taking any if he could. He'd grab a couple of bags of ice out of the motel lobby machine to get him through the night.
Was Caro staying at the same motel? He hadn't asked on purpose—too much temptation—and hoped like hell she hadn't noticed the hard on simply hugging her had given him. She still had that same delicate beauty that had first captivated him as a boy, the same vulnerability, but she was also a polished professional and hadn't taken any of the condescending shit that the CEO of SWW had tried to put on her. He knew she was strong, (had watched her stand up to his daddy for Christ's sake!) and he was definitely strongly sexually attracted to the beautiful woman his best friend had grown up to be.
A casual hook up was one thing—hell, he could go back inside and walk back out with any number of buckle bunnies or local gals looking to ride a bull rider for a night—but his Caro was something special. He just needed to tie up a loose string before they headed out onto the blacktop so he had a clear conscience before pursuing her.
Daryl never thought he'd have a second chance at the first girl he'd ever loved. Losing her had truly broken his heart and made what he'd suffered after that so much harder to endure. He knew she had her own scars... maybe they could work on healing them together, just as their friendship all those years ago had started to do for them.
Yep, he just had to tie up that one loose string...
Adams Valley Rodeo, two days later
"Who's that woman talking to Daryl?" Carol asked Lori, watching him after he finished his ride. He'd had a good one, making the eight second time, and they were waiting for his score. A pretty Hispanic woman in an EMT uniform had just given Daryl a big hug and now they stood talking with their arms draped loosely around each other.
The day after the street dance they'd met for lunch and after he'd had his lawyer vet the contract, he'd signed on, so this was the first PRCA event that he was officially under the sponsorship of SWW. Carol was learning the finer points of all of the events the Team competed in by spending time in the stands with Lori and the other girlfriends and spouses of the competitors.
"He hasn't mentioned her to you?" Lori asked, looking over at Daryl and frowning hard.
"No." Carol said with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why hadn't she expected he would have someone? Just because they'd had a pretty emotional reunion and he'd spouted a smooth line about taking his time with her, she'd probably been stupid to assume he meant anything exclusive. They would be traveling together and she was convenient. For all she knew he had a woman in every town on the circuit.
"Who is she?" Carol asked again, her breath speeding up as Daryl's score was about to be announced and he turned to look at the leader board, but kept his arm around the woman's shoulder.
"It's not my place to say, hon—you need to talk to Daryl about it." Lori said with a sigh, her mouth turned down in displeasure.
When Daryl's score of 90 put him at the top of the leader board he did a fist pump and looked up towards the stands as if he was searching for someone, but the woman at his side pulled him down for a thorough congratulatory kiss that almost knocked his hat off and Carol had enough.
"I'm going for a lemonade, can I bring you something, Lori?" she asked stiffly as she stood, keeping her eyes on her friend and avoiding looking towards the arena.
"Talk to him, Carol." Lori advised gently.
"I'll bring you a lemonade." Carol said, and fled down the steps.
Feeling like a fool, Carol ran and hid in the ladies room under the grandstand, holding a cold wet paper towel over her face that she knew was red from crying. For God's sake she wasn't a silly sixth grader any more. Daryl was a thirty-two year old drop dead gorgeous red blooded American cowboy. Did she expect him to be the same innocent kid she'd known? No, of course not. But she was disappointed that it appeared he was a player.
She hid out there for what she hoped was long enough and then went to the concession stand and bought two fresh squeezed lemonades for her and Lori to help keep them hydrated in the heat of the midday. Just as she turned to walk away from the stand two young boys smashed into her and the entire contents of the sugared sticky drinks went all down the front of her. The boys took off like a bat out of hell when they realized what they'd done and Carol was left still holding the now the empty cups.
"Shit." She muttered, looking up at the vendor, who was kind enough to tell her that he'd give her two more, but she wanted to go change first and wash off the sticky, so he took the cups back and gave her two chits to redeem for new ones when she came back. She'd stashed her go bag in the SWW motor home that Daryl was taking over after the competition today, so she headed there, hoping he'd stuck around the arena to watch Glenn's ride after his and it would be empty.
No such luck. She arrived at the big toy just in time to see Daryl heading into it with the woman he'd been kissing ringside. Carol stood outside for about five minutes trying to decide what to do. She absently plucked at her blouse which was already starting to dry stuck to her stomach and decided to put on her big girl panties and march up the steps to knock on the door, hoping she caught them before they'd started shedding their clothing.
"Come back later, I'm busy." Daryl called out tersely from within the motor home.
"I can't –my clothes are in there and I had an accident and need to change—just hand me my go-bag that's in the hall closet." Carol said, desperately trying for a decisive yet nonchalant tone.
The door was flung open and thankfully a fully dressed but for his hat Daryl was looking down at her in concern.
"What happened?" he asked, looking her up and down, "You're all wet." He frowned and sniffed at her, "And you smell like lemon Pledge."
"More Beyoncé, less dusting spray." Carol said dryly. "Please just hand me my bag and I can go change clothes in the restroom under the stands."
He looked torn, glancing back into the camper and frowning and then looking back at her.
"Hold on, I'll get it for you."
The closet was all the way in the back of the motorhome in the big bedroom that took up the whole width of that end and while he was gone the brunette sauntered over to the open door to say hello.
"Daryl tells me you're the one in charge of this circus he's got himself involved in." she said with a smile, but her narrowed eyes were looking Carol up and down and clearly she wasn't impressed.
"Yes, I'm here as PR rep for the Denim Dreams campaign." Carol said, falling back behind her professional shield for dealing with difficult people. She held out her hand, forgetting that it was sticky with sugary lemonade. "Carol Pelletier, nice to meet you."
The woman made a sour face as she stared down at Carol's hand and so Carol dropped hers.
"And you are?" Carol asked, striving for a friendly tone. If this woman was going to be Daryl's plus one in the motorhome, she'd better get used to her.
"I'm Rosita, Rosita Dixon." The woman said with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "Daryl's wife."
Carol took a step back, nearly falling off the step. She would have if Daryl hadn't returned at just that moment and dropping the duffle, he pushed past Rosita, snagged Carol's arm and pulled her forward into the motorhome through the open door.
"Ex-wife." Daryl said, his voice annoyed, bordering on angry. "Just 'coz you're pissed at me, don't be such a bitch, 'Sita." Then he looked at Carol and gently asked her if she was okay.
"I need to get back to work." Rosita said, sounding bored. Ignoring Carol she put her hand on Daryl's other forearm and smiled up at him, "I'll see you later, D."
"No, you won't, I meant what I said." Daryl said, releasing Carol so he could remove Rosita's hand from his arm.
"Don't lose my number, darlin'." Rosita said, patting the phone in his breast pocket lingeringly, "You'll get bored with that mousey thing soon, D. and then you'll come back. You always do." Then she let her hand trail down his chest and over his abs to run an index finger around the rim of his big silver belt buckle, forcing him to grab her wrist to stop her.
"You're just embarrassing yourself now, 'Sita." Daryl said and he took out his phone and one handed, while both Carol and Rosita watched, he pulled up her entry in his contacts and deleted it.
"Asshole." Rosita bit out angrily, pulling her wrist out of his grip and then leveled her gaze on Carol, "He's a fantastic fuck, but he's fucked up, you know. All those daddy issues—"
"Just get out." Daryl cut her off, sounding more tired and sad than angry.
With one last look at the both of them Rosita made a disgusted snorting noise and flew out the door and down the steps.
"Well, that was just loads of fun." Daryl grunted, pushing his dirty sweaty hair back off his forehead with a weary hand.
Carol didn't respond and bent to pick up the duffle with her clothes in it and started out the door.
"Where you goin'?" he frowned.
"To get cleaned up." She told him, clutching the bag in one hand while the other held onto the door frame. "I guess I can use the shower in the Rhee's rig. The nanny's in there with Hershel and they said I could hang out there in the AC any time."
"You can hang out here." Daryl said, still frowning. "I got a nice big shower too."
"Which you look like you could use right about now. You look like shit on a cracker, Daryl." Carol said primly, taking in his dusty dirty sweaty clothes clinging to his broad chest, and wait, was that? Eww. Yep. Definitely cow shit on his chaps—or was that bull shit? Her train of thought made her giggle and he looked at her like he was worried she'd had heat stroke.
"Daryl?" he blustered back at her. She only called him that when she was mad so he went on the offensive. "You're the one looks ridiculous. Like you're off to teach Sunday school or somethin'. Don't you got no cowgirl clothes?"
"You don't like my dress?" Carol looked down at her pale pink floral sundress and sandals. She'd dressed for the heat, but had noticed that most of the other women in the stands wore boots, jeans and short sleeved or sleeveless western cut cotton blouses or t-shirts with country or rock band logos on them.
"I like it just fine—looks real pretty on you—probably better when it's not all lemon sticky, but it ain't real practical around the horses and such. One of them stomps your foot in them dainty shoes and you'll be out of commission for weeks with a broken foot."
"I don't fit in." she realized with dismay. Wasn't that one of the first rules of good PR? Understand your client and your audience?
"Ought to get your SWW CEO to hook you up with some stuff out of their catalogue so you look the part; you're gonna be following the black top with us for a year." Daryl said, warming to his point. "Ask Lori n' Maggie—bet they'll be glad to help."
"I'm such an idiot." Carol said, stepping back so she was standing in the doorway, the light streaming in behind her.
"You ain't –you're just..." Daryl began, then he blushed and looked down at his feet, suddenly flustered.
"I'm what?" Carol pressed.
"Uh—with your dress all wet and the sun comin' in like that—I can kinda see right through it." he mumbled, gesturing at her without looking at her.
"Oh god." Carol stepped away from the door and pulled the duffle to her chest trying to hide behind it and practically ran to his bathroom.
When she came back out twenty minutes later, after showering and changing into what she now knew were her wildly impractical white capris and a sleeveless eyelet lace blouse, the only other clothes not back at her hotel room, Carol was surprised to find Daryl sitting broodingly at the small dinette table reading something on an I-Pad and taking notes in a spiral binder.
He'd taken off his chaps, jeans and chambray shirt and now wore a white wife beater and low riding sweats. His pale feet were bare, boots and socks under the table. He must've washed his face, hands and arms in the kitchenette sink because they looked cleaner, though his shaggy hair bore evidence of his time in the pens and arena today—he had a bad case of hat hair. He didn't appear to have a farmer tan, his collar bones in the low shirt were as dark as his bronzed arms. She stared as he stretched them above his head and twisted his neck to pop it as well, trying to get comfortable. To top it all off? He was wearing sexy smart guy horn rimmed glasses.
Carol literally started salivating.
"Busy?" she asked, swallowing hard, trying for nonchalant, setting down the duffle with her sticky clothes by the now closed door. She used one of the stretchies around her wrist to pull her damp hair up into a messy bun, but plenty of loose curls escaped and corkscrewed around her face.
"Home work." he said. "Takin' an accounting class on line from UW. Try and fit in the work between times or at night. Thought it'd help us manage the ranch books better if I knew what our damn accountant was talkin' about."
"Oh." she said, finding herself proud of him for continuing his education.
"Lori stopped by to check on you a little bit ago, she said to stop over if you need to talk." Daryl said, closing the notebook and powering down the device. Then he pulled off the sexy glasses and tossed them onto the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I was supposed to be bringing her the lemonade." Carol said with regret.
"She left you one in the fridge," Daryl pointed at the almost full size built in refrigerator.
Carol went to retrieve the drink.
"I didn't know you saw me n' 'Sita down by the fence after my ride." Daryl said quietly when Carol took the big plastic cup out and closed the door.
"It wasn't any of my business." She said evenly, ignoring the built in straw and pulling off the lid to take a sip of the iced juice.
"Lori said you were upset." He countered, looking at her with a little head tilt.
"Lori has a big mouth." Carol twisted her lips in displeasure, pacing over towards the door and then back again. "Like I said, it's none of my business, Daryl."
Daryl again—she was pissed.
"I was gonna tell you about me n' 'Sita, but I wanted to talk to her first." Daryl went on. "Can you please sit, you're givin' me vertigo lookin' up at ya movin' all around."
Carol made a disbelieving face at him, but sat opposite him at the table, setting her cup down in front of her.
"I'm going to tell you what went on between us—but this ain't tit for tat—I don't need you to tell me about your stuff until you're ready to, okay?" Daryl asked.
Carol frowned but nodded yes, looking relieved.
"Rosita n' me were married for about two years, goin' on eight years ago now." Daryl began. "Met on the circuit and had been dating about three months when she come up pregnant. We got married, but she lost it about three months in. I was there when it happened and she hemorrhaged and almost died—luckily we were with her EMT buddies and they stabilized her until we could get to the hospital."
"I'm so sorry..."A look of empathy and understanding crossed Carol's face. She hurt for him. To have lost a child...
Daryl nodded, but needed to finish, so she let him.
"She thought I'd just leave her then, but I didn't. Took us another year and a half to face up to the fact that we were great in bed, but that was all we had. We didn't want any of the same things outa life and then we started fightin' like cats and dogs trying to change each other into what we wanted. After the divorce we had a 'same time next year' kind of thing whenever we ended up at the same venue."
Daryl reached across the table and took Carol's hand in his.
"I told her today that's over because I met someone. She didn't take it too well." He finished.
"Ya think?" Carol said dryly, rolling her eyes at him, but then sobered. "Did you love her?"
"Cared about her-wanted the baby-but lookin' back? No. I didn't. I don't. You don't have to worry about her." he said.
What he didn't tell her that he'd felt more from the simple hugs they'd exchanged at the street dance the other night than he'd ever felt even in the most intimate moments with Rosita. It wasn't just his body that wanted Carol-it was his heart.
"You don't have to worry about her—or anyone else—this year? While we're out on the road? There's nobody else. For either of us." He pledged, hoping she agreed with that plan. It was too soon to tell her what he really wanted, because that was for a whole lot longer than a year.
"But we're not..." Carol frowned at him and made a funny little gesture with her free hand. "Won't you get, you know..."
"Frustrated? Horny?" he teased, "Already told you, we're goin' for the slow burn here, sweetheart, and that's all about doing things in the right order."
"Is that why you haven't kissed me yet?' she asked, her voice a bit petulant.
"You didn't like seein' her kissin' me today—n' let's be clear here, that's what it was: her kissin' me—now did you?" Daryl said, giving her a lazy smile brimming with sexual confidence.
Carol scowled at him and looked away.
"Com'ere then." He said, tugging on her hand and when she didn't budge he just leaned over the table and brought her hand to his lips. He kissed each finger and then turned her hand over and swept his hot soft tongue across her palm.
"Dix." Carol sighed.
That was more like it, Daryl thought with satisfaction and grinned against her palm and kissed it, then her wrist, forearm, elbow, doing his best Gomez Adams impersonation all the way to her neck where he settled in to kiss, lick and nuzzle.
"Say it again," he ordered, his lips brushing against her pulse point.
"Dix..." she sighed again, shivering with the desire he was building in her.
Then he eased away from her and sat back down on his side of the table.
Carol sat with her eyes closed, a faint blush visible on her collar bones and neck.
"May I take you out to dinner this evening, Miss Caroline?" he asked, his polite voice gentle gravel.
It would be their first date.
Carol lifted the big cup of lemonade to her lips and downed a good third of it before returning it to the table and opening her eyes.
"Yes, yes you may, Mr. Dixon." She said, imitating a southern belle and then smiled at him, her beautiful blue eyes dancing, "And I may even let you kiss me goodnight."
"Like with tongue and everything?" Daryl raised a smarmy eyebrow at her and leaned forward, sticking his tongue out and wiggling it at her.
Carol leaned in and stuck her tongue out too, squealing with mock disgust when their tongues touched.
"I can't believe you remember that!" Daryl crowed.
"You said Merle told you that using your tongue was how you made girls hot." Carol whispered the last word and then they sat there grinning at each other remembering how their twelve year old selves hadn't understood the concept of a French kiss.
"Your tongue is cold." Daryl complained softly, pointing at the icy lemonade.
"Maybe you could warm it up for me..." Carol whispered, her long eyelashes drifting down, staring at his mouth.
This time when they leaned forward, lips brushed first, tentative, with gentle pressure as they met and melded. Then came little kitten licks, her tongue over his lower lip, over and over until he met it, opening to her, tongues sliding over each other, deepening, slow, heated, exploring, enjoying their first real kiss until they had to stop to breathe.
"Warm enough now?" he asked in a throaty rumble, his forehead resting against hers.
"Hot, actually." she sighed.
"Damn, guess Merle was right after all." Daryl drawled.
Then they both giggled, happy with the discovery that despite the very real sexual attraction between them, they still had the playful essence of the friendship they'd forged all those years ago. It was a solid foundation upon which to build something real.
AN: I love these two so much! And yes, I will continue to tweak the ABC & ABD shippers...
Thanks for reading-let me know which other TWD characters you'd like to see pop up & maybe I'll incorporate them into the story. Back to work!
