"We've gotta stop meeting like this," she says in greeting. He flushes, ducking his head so she doesn't see the red climbing up his neck. It's only been three days since that night in the dark with the memory of her fingers underneath his fueling his release. Three days since he realized that he was in some deep, deep shit.
When he finally has the courage in him to look up at her again, she's turned just so in the dim lights over the bar and it sends sparks flying in his brain. She's so beautiful it's unfair. Back in the day, she'd have men fightin' wars over her hand. She'd have moved the Greek and Roman empires with a flick of her gaze, turned the seas and skies if she had a mind to. And seeing that mischievous look on her face when she faces him again makes him sure that she would have a mind to.
"So, are we drinking together tonight or was that a one-time thing?" He shakes his head. There's no one in here, but Shane'll be there soon to relieve him and he can't risk being caught with his hand in his pants so to speak. He's never given Shane a reason to dislike him or even distrust him, but he can see it on the other man's face clear as day whenever they're in the same room. He hates it, hates him. It is, that look, just another reminder that he'll never be better than white trash. He'll never amount to more than this bar and his one-bedroom trailer and his mangy dog. It used to be enough for him. He'd convinced himself time and time again that he would never have more, would never be more.
But being around this woman, Carol, makes him want to. It's strange being half in love with someone when you don't know anything about them. They haven't got past names and there's something thrilling about that. This way, they're just two people finding a weird sense of comfort with each other. They could be anyone at any time anywhere in the world.
So, when he grins at her and pours her a generous shot of vodka on the house, he decides there's no time to take life by the horns than now.
"I'll do you one better. I get off in about twenty minutes. We can do something, together, if you want after," he tells her, determined to keep eye contact. Even though his insides are itching with anxiety and somewhere in the back of his mind, the center holding all of his deep-seated instincts is exploding to bits. He couldn't care less when she nods and throws the shot into her mouth, pink lips moving in a way that should be criminal.
He shifts on his feet, glad there's a solid block of wood between her eyes and the front of his pants.
What promised to be a damn good night turned all to shit faster than he could upend a bar stool and beam his boss upside the face.
Shane got there at 9, right on the dot too. He'd strolled into the place like he was fuckin' God himself and Daryl couldn't help the twist of his lips or the growl that threatened to breach his tightly closed mouth. Jesus Christ, he hated his boss. And it'd all gone downhill from there.
Piece o' shit that he was, he took one look at Carol and got that look in his eyes. A look of want that turned Daryl's mouth to ash. So he busied himself with cleaning glasses, wiping down the booths, anything to keep himself busy and away from them. He could feel the rejection like a stone in his gut. Why in the Hell would she ever want a man like him when she could have Shane? He was good looking, objectively speaking, and he had that swagger of confidence that women flocked to. While he was...well he was him with the scars on his back and his foot half-way out the door wasn't he?
He scrubbed even more furiously at the table and nearly flew off the handle when he felt something small and full of heat and lily-white grip his bare shoulder. He twisted around and found her there, with a smile on her face and a question on her lips. And he gave himself a beat before thinking, to Hell with all of it if she'd just look at me like this for the rest of my life.
"You ready to get out of here?" she said. He nodded and did nothing to stop her when she grabbed his hand and dragged him, chuckling despite himself, to her car outside.
He doesn't ask her how she knows that he's between cars right now. Doesn't ask her how she knows that he doesn't like the radio on where there's another person in the car. Doesn't ask her how she knows that he doesn't want to be with her around other people. But she knows all the same. He grins when she finally pulls to a stop outside of a tiny white house with a picket fence and a tree with a tire swing.
It's so perfectly her that he sort of can't deal with it. So he just turns and smiles at her and wonders, again, what he did to deserve this woman happening into his life. He's so caught up in her soft smile and the distance between their fingers on the seat. So caught up in her that he doesn't even notice what's happening, what's already happened, until it's all there staring him in the face.
And when he does realize, when he knows, it's a punch to his gut and to the heart that she's had clasped between her fingers from the moment she walked into his bar. It's kind of like being swept out to sea and only registering the fact when you're half way out in the Atlantic with the jaws of a thousand sharks closing in around your legs. He never expected to feel this way, never expected to get even close. Yet here he is falling over himself to grab up her hand and press the gentlest kiss to her cheek. The smile she gives him is enough to let him know he isn't the only one in this. She's right there with him. So, he opens his mouth and lets the words tumble out. Hopes to God he doesn't fuck up just another thing, the only thing, in his life.
"I don't know much about love, but, I think I might be learning," he says. Could close his eyes and scream for getting it right. But he doesn't close his eyes. He doesn't scream. She doesn't really give him a chance. Just crawls into his lap and presses herself so close that he thinks she might be trying to crawl into him.
"We don't even know each other," she says, a faint whisper in his ear that he knows isn't quite true. Is true enough to make him doubt for but a moment. But then he pushes her back and stares up into her eyes for what feels like forever.
"Ain't nothing," he tells her and Lord help him, but he believes it like he's never believed in anything.
A/N: THESE TWO ARE RUINING MY LIFE. Also a huge, huge thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. It means so much that we're all so invested in this fic together. I don't know how much longer this one will be, but I'm sure my mind will be able to cook up something else as soon as this one is done. ~Andy
to Guest: Oh my God thank you so much. I know this chapter is a lot more tame, but when we do finally get there, I hope it'll be worth the wait. :D
to Laurie: Thank you so much? I'm always so happy that people not only enjoy my plot but also my writing itself. That means so much to me! 3