A/N Thank you all so much for reading this story. I've appreciated reading your reviews and comments, even when you were a little upset with me, and I always appreciate the follows and favorites. I've enjoyed writing this story for you :) This chapter concludes our adventures with the Painter and Wood Sculptor. I hope it wraps up just right for you! x

oo00oo

Things between them had smoothed over quite a bit, at least he thought they were mostly back on track. But he knew they still needed to sort through some things and he was hoping this long weekend together would be the time they'd really solidify what they had between them. What they were to each other. The love was there, the chemistry was there, neither of those things was the problem. It was the drama.

He felt like he knew what needed to happen to make that drama go away. They had to be more open with each other, and by "they" he knew it was mostly him. He had to quit letting what happened with Paula weigh on his relationship with Beth. He was letting the mistrust he'd felt then filter in now. The incident in his studio was the perfect example. He knew he'd blown things way out of proportion. He should have just told her the truth, that he wished she hadn't lifted that file cover. Then again, what he really should have done was tell her about the job, what it was about, what his feelings were and why he'd agreed to do it, long before she ever saw those photos. She'd been right when she said that if she was indeed his girlfriend he should be talking to her about things. He still needed to do that and he knew it.

As difficult as it was for him, against his nature really, he wanted them to talk about feelings and maybe they even needed to think about making plans, including working toward a shared goal.

oo00oo

Rather than the Bike they'd be taking the SUV for their long weekend. The motorcycle just wasn't an efficient way to transport a couple of coolers packed with three or four days' supply of food and beverages. And by 4:30 Thursday afternoon he had the rig packed up and they were ready to head to the cabin. "Ya ready Beth?"

"I'm so ready Daryl, I've been looking forward to this all week." It always seemed easier for them to talk, to get closer, when they were at the cabin. There weren't all the distractions of work and all the people and electronics. It was just about them and about them being together.

"I been lookin' forward to it too Beth. I think it's gonna be the start a sumthin' special for us. I don't even know why I think it, it's a feelin' I got."

"Well that sounds promising."

They enjoyed the drive and the idle conversation, just leaving the city behind and being together bolstered their spirits. And they made great time, arriving just before seven. Daryl had everything out of the rig, they'd put everything in its place and he was building the fire by 7:30.

When he had it going he asked, "Wine, beer, sweet tea, what? What can I fix ya ta drink Beth?"

"Well I'm guessing you'd like a beer and I'm onboard with that." She got the tray of cheeses she'd prepared and a box of crackers, and set them on the little table between the overstuffed chairs. He tipped his bottle towards her and she tipped hers back, "Cheers Darlin'."

He took a swallow then he started to tell her. "Ya know I had so many thoughts goin' through my head when Covert offered me the commission job. I wish we'd a been in each other's lives more then, like we are now. There's a lot I would have talked ta ya about, I wanna talk ta ya about all that now."

"Alright I'd love to listen."

"The kind of sculptures Covert wanted me ta create sure ain't my usual, ya know that about me. I ain't got nuthin' against nude art, beautiful art is beautiful art. It just ain't my callin', an there's plenty a other sculptors that's what they do. I couldn't figure out why the guy come ta me. Andrea said it was cuz he'd bought one a my pieces at a gallery in Germany an he liked my detail work. That didn't seem like enough ta me, but I guess it was for him."

"So I's feelin' anxiety about it, I wasn't sure I's comfortable with it, but I knew I had ta step outside myself some. I thought if I could just complete one a the sculptures to my satisfaction, ta my standards, the whole job would fall into place for me. I felt pretty sure if I could wrap my head round the idea I could do it, an do it right."

"I got determined, I wanted it for a lotta reasons. I wanted...nah I didn't just want, I needed ta prove sumthin' ta myself; that I had enough talent I could do sumthin' that wasn't even close ta bein' in my comfort zone, and create sumthin' wonderful. Beth the truth is I've had a lotta doubt about myself, everythin' about myself, ever since I's little."

"When I's growin' up I got told on the regular what a loser I was, that I's a worthless piece a shit. Even now, no matter how good I done with my work, an how much folks liked it an how much I sold, I guess I never did get over those words. I felt like maybe if I could succeed at sumthin' so different I'd prove ta myself them things I was told weren't true."

"The other side a all this is the money, I can't ignore that part. I make real good money, real good, it ain't that I'm greedy. But I knew if I's successful with this it would bring me some real financial freedom. I'd be able ta have an do things I never thought I could. Not cuz I wanna buy a lotta stuff, but cuz I'd be free ta do my art my way, financial freedom would mean my creative freedom. I wanna spend my time here, in the woods, away from the city. Build a studio an do what's in my heart Beth. Does any a this make a bit a sense?"

"It makes a lot of sense Daryl and I envy you this opportunity. I understand what you're saying and I'm so glad you shared this with me. I was shocked when I saw the photos, but I don't really see a problem at all with the subject matter. I also get your hesitation, painting nudes certainly wouldn't be in my comfort zone either. I admire you for stretching your boundaries this way."

"It hurts me to think that your self-confidence was undermined the way it was. You're so talented but more important than that Daryl, you're such a good person. A little hot tempered sometimes, but the more I understand about you the more I get that too."

"I still feel bad about lifting the cover on the file, even though it was innocent, but I think it's turned out good because now we're talking about things. So since we are, tell me more about this plan for leaving Savannah."

His expression was so serious, and he was chewing on that lip like he did when he was thinking hard and searching for his words. "It ain't really that I wanna just up an leave Savannah for good. I got my family there, Merle an Karen. An I got Tara an Denise, Rick an Michonne an the kids. An I love my place there. I done it mostly myself the way I wanted ta do it, so yeah, I don't know that I could just walk away for good."

"But I could be gone a lot an when I wanted ta be. I know Tara loves runnin' the gallery an she's great at it, much better than I could ever be, so I'm lucky. I don't gotta worry about it. An my place is good, it'll keep just fine without me. But I want sumthin' else too."

"I always thought someday I'd make this little cabin my permanent home. Build a big studio an work here, doin' the things I feel I want ta do, ya know when it comes ta my sculpting. Not just jobs other people want, or feelin' the pressure ta create the art that will sell the most. An when I hit a mental block, well there just ain't nuthin' better than a walk in the woods ta clear my mind. So yeah, that's what I been dreamin' of for a long time now."

"Thing is though, that was when it was just me. I like ta think things are different now, that you an me we got sumthin', that we're goin' somewhere together. I hope it ain't gonna end. So now I'm confused cuz I don't know what ya want. What you're thinkin'."

"Oh." Now it was her turn, she was on the spot. There was a lot she wanted to tell him, a lot she wanted to say to him. There was even more she wanted to ask him. The question was could she be as open and honest as he was being?

"I think we have the same feelings Daryl. Not just for each other, I know I love you and I hope you feel that. I don't want it to end either, I do want to build a life, a future with you. I guess I'm just not sure exactly what you're asking me."

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, "Ya think ya could live out like this? Not just visit for a couple a days a fun an rest, but live here away from town an people?"

"Daryl you saw where I grew up. I know what country living is about, maybe not mountain living, but I know what it's like to live somewhere pretty remote. Would I want to live like that again? Yes I would. But I wouldn't want to give up my career, my painting. I'm not a well-established artist like you, and after this job you're going to be a huge deal. I'm just starting to get traction."

"I know that, I get it. I'd never think a askin' ya ta just walk away. I know I can be a real dick but I ain't that kinda dick. Anyway, it ain't gonna happen tomorrow, there's things that gotta be done first. But if I'ma start building the shop, an I think I'd do that first, I need ta know sumthin' Beth, I need ta have an idea about what ta do."

"Alright what? What do you need to know?"

"Am I building a studio for one artist or two?"

As much as she loved this man, and as much as she thought that was exactly the question she wanted to be asked, she just didn't know if she was quite ready to make such a huge commitment. Was she really prepared to say yes, to plan on becoming a reclusive artist with him. "I love you Daryl, you know that, I just don't know what to say. Can you let me think about it? Can we talk about it again after we get back from our trips?"

She could see it on his face, it was clear, and then that wall went up and it was like he became expressionless. Just those hard steely eyes looking into hers, and the tone of his voice was flat, cold, "Yeah sure. Just let me know."

"Daryl please…"

"I ain't mad Beth, I get it, I do. I just need some fresh air. I'ma go for a little walk, I won't be gone long."

"You're going walking in the woods in the dark?"

"Yeah I am, I know what I'm doin' I'll be fine an you'll be fine here."

He picked up the bow and he was gone.

He hadn't gone 20 yards when he stopped himself, no this wasn't the way to handle it, running off. He reminded himself that he'd just made the decision they needed to be more open, ask the questions, give the answers. Talk. Now she'd said she needed a little time to think and he was running off. Nah, leaving wasn't going to work, ever.

As much as she hated his reaction she understood it. He'd laid it out to her completely. He'd been open, he'd shared with her about the job, about the childhood pain that wouldn't leave, he'd told her he wanted her forever. He was willing to build his studio, his dream, with her in mind. If the situation was reversed she'd be every bit as hurt as he was right now, and she'd probably want to get away from him for a little while. She was so sure he was the love of her life that even she didn't quite understand her reluctance. She just didn't know what was best. That was what she needed to give her thought to, not whether or not she loved him, not whether she wanted what he was offering, because she did.

She felt such relief, mixed with quite a bit of anxiety, when she heard his boots hit the front steps. She stood waiting for whatever was coming next. He walked in, his eyes trained on hers, he put the big bow down by the door, came right to her and took her in his arms, "Sorry I left like that. I won't do it again, no matter what. I love ya, you're right ya should have your chance ta think about things."

They were still locked in the embrace as she spoke, "I'm sorry too. I love you, I do want this to be our life, but I have some reluctance, some fear I don't understand. I need to question myself."

He pulled his head back chewing the lip and nodding his head, "K, that's fair. In the meantime, I think I need another beer."

He sipped on the beer and she sipped a glass of wine, and again he opened up, "I don't think I'ma be able ta relax into just bein' us again 'til I know what you're feelin', what you're thinkin'. That's how it is for me. Bein' real open, that's sumthin' I ain't ever been able ta be, or maybe just ain't been willin' ta be, not until you Beth. So yeah, I want ya, everythin' about ya, but it's hard the not knowin'. I'll wait 'til we come back from our trips, an then I think I'ma need ta know one way or the other."

"I understand, I want it too Daryl. I'm sitting right here with you and I feel like I miss you so much. I look at you and I know how much I love you, how much I want you. I think I'm just torn, following this dream, this art career, it's what I wanted to do forever and I don't want to just walk away from something I feel like I just started."

"Hold up Beth. I ain't ever asked ya ta walk away so don't talk like I did. I asked ya if ya could do it another way. An I didn't ask ya ta do it now. I said it would take time. It'd take two ta three years ta finish my commission, build a studio, build a nice cabin. What I asked ya was, should I build the studio for two artists or one. I never said one artist or acted like I thought your art didn't count, that it wasn't important. Fuck I'm just frustrated now."

She did have a moment of clarity then, "You're right Daryl, I'm so sorry. You've never discounted me or my art. I could never have asked for anyone to be more supportive than you've been." She got up and walked behind his chair, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding her cheek next to his, "Just give me until we get back, please."

He reached a hand up and wrapped his fingers around her arm, "Yeah I'ma give ya the time ya need an hope for the best."

They lay in the big feather bed and held each other, and they did yearn for each other in a more intimate way, but no love was made in their bed that night.

xxxxx

Things always look better in the morning and they both made an effort to relax and enjoy the day as best they could. But there was that underlying tension that just wouldn't be denied, and neither seemed to know how to relieve it. They tracked, and Daryl shot a couple of rabbits they'd have for dinner. They talked about art, they talked about the books they'd read and why they loved them. They talked about their childhoods and he was open and honest with her about his. They talked about everything, except the elephant in the room.

He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, he was fine. He'd always done things on his own and he had no problem going back to doing things just the way he always had. Then he mentally gave himself a right hook. Yeah dumbass he thought, you can just walk away. Pfft. But he did try to focus on the fact that what she'd said was she loved him, and that she just wanted time to think. That wasn't so unreasonable, and it wasn't a "no."

And that night in their bed he held her and they did make love. But as wonderful as it was, it felt like something was missing.

xxxxx

It was Thursday evening, the jet was coming into Atlanta and a car had been sent to pick him up. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much to see him go, it was only a few days, he'd be back soon. But she felt like she wanted to jump in the car and beg him to take her with him, instead she just smiled and waved and he did the same.

She was sure it would have been different if they hadn't been feeling that strain on their relationship. He'd kept himself busy all week working on the job, and she'd been busy getting her paintings together for the courier service that would transport them to New York. They hadn't had their usual together time and everything seemed to have a kind of gloom hanging over it.

They may have been in sultry Savannah but there was a chill in the air.

xxxxx

He'd hoped to sleep on the plane, it seemed he'd done so little sleeping the past several nights. He caught a few minutes here and there inflight, but it wasn't restful and it left him feeling more tired, both physically and emotionally.

He was met by a driver and he and the sculptures were taken to the hotel in Covent Garden. It was old, beautifully restored and obviously exclusive. Just the kind of place he would never have been welcome in not so long ago.

The minute he walked in the lobby his artist's eye zeroed right in on the spot he knew the sculpture should go. The biggest part of the reason he'd been summoned was now settled. Maybe he could rest. If only she were here.

It was early in the day and he had time to put his things away, take a long hot shower and crawl into bed for a much needed nap. Thanks to pure exhaustion he finally slept for a couple of hours.

Neal Covert and his wife Claudette arrived in the late afternoon. He was a little taken aback, they were formal in their manner and their appearance. Almost regal. Because of the nature of the job he'd expected them to be more flamboyant.

He was also surprised her sister, Phoebe, had accompanied them. He'd been a little concerned at first, fearing it might be some kind of setup. He was relieved to learn it was just a weekend visit for the sisters, Phoebe's significant other was away on business. She was as stunning as her sister and every bit as regal looking, and he was pleasantly surprised by her outgoing personality and sense of humor.

As they enjoyed high tea in the hotels' tea room, the four of them fell into relaxed conversation about the sculptures and his progress, and of course the intrigue and current gossip in the art world. He immediately felt better about the trip. He'd expected to feel anxious and out of place the entire time, but he found he was at ease and actually enjoying himself. Just one thing was missing.

After tea they went to his suite to view the sculptures. There was a collective gasp from the three as he pulled the cover off the first one. Claudette lightly clapped her hands together while her husband proclaimed, "Brilliant Dixon, perfection." Phoebe squeezed his arm in a friendly manner and teased, "I want to be your next subject if you promise to make me look this perfect."

He was thrilled when the second sculpture was as well received as the first, and he realized he now felt good about the job in whole. He had this down and he was happy he'd taken on the challenge.

They left to "dress for dinner" advising they'd return for him in two hours. As soon as they were gone he tried to call her but it went right to voicemail. With the time difference he assumed she was busy at The Armory Show.

He was wined and dined throughout the long weekend, and he honestly enjoyed it. They were wonderful hosts. But he missed her so much, he wished she was with him or he was with her. Whatever, as long as they were together.

When he got to his room Saturday night, after another big evening of dining and drinking, he was anxious to get out of his suit, have a hot shower and kick back for a while. He powered up his laptop, maybe she'd sent an email, he was hoping for some photos of her booth. He was disappointed there was nothing, but then he thought to check the Page Six site, maybe they'd have something, surely they were covering the show.

What he saw was something he never wanted to see, her and Philip Blake. The headline photo showed Blake enveloping her in a hug, and kissing her right next to the mouth. The only thing that prevented him from coming unglued was the look on her face. She did not seem to be enjoying Blake's attention. Even the header read, "Painter Wants Out of Painters' Clutches." He felt the adrenaline kick in and he wished he was there to kick some abstract impressionist ass.

xxxxx

She was at JFK, waiting for her suitcase at baggage claim when he descended on her. He was one of those people that at first seem understated and quiet, even well-mannered. But somehow they take over a space, suck up all the air. "You must be the lovely Beth Greene, I'm Philip Blake." His smile looked less than sincere to her. Little did she know that would be just the beginning of a very long weekend of Philip Blake invading her space and monopolizing her time.

He seemed to be everywhere she was, and anytime a patron wanted photos he'd drape his arm around her and pull her impossibly close. He was constantly touching her arm, or her low back, and his sexual innuendos disgusted her. She asked him several times to please refrain from touching her, and told him she didn't appreciate that kind of talk. He'd just smile and apologize telling her how he'd "simply forgotten himself," and hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable. She didn't believe anything the man said.

It finally came to a head on Saturday afternoon. An art critic had asked to take her photo standing next to one of her paintings, she'd happily agreed. It would be wonderful publicity. Except seemingly out of nowhere there was Philip Blake and this time when his arm went around her shoulder his other went around her waist, if she hadn't quickly turned her head he would have kissed her mouth and not her cheek.

That was it. "If you touch me in any way even once more I will call security and the police. You're way out of line and I won't put up with it anymore."

It was him and it was a lot of other things but Beth had had it. It was the mayhem of the show, the trying to sell herself to potential buyers, the overall feeling of insincerity that just seemed to prevail. This was not why she'd become an artist. She'd wanted to paint, to express herself in her art. Certainly she'd hoped to sell enough to keep from having to find another source of income. But what she wanted more than anything was to create. She realized now what the Wood Sculptor had known for a long time, this was one of the negatives of being an artist. Like him, she didn't care for it.

As soon as she was out of there and back at the hotel she tried to call him but his phone went right to voicemail. He was probably out with Neal Covert and his wife.

Back when she planned this trip, she thought after the show she'd want to go to dinner and walk around the city. But after the day she'd had all she wanted to do was take a hot bath and relax. She called room service first and ordered a bottle of Riesling and a chopped chicken salad.

She enjoyed a glass of the wine while she soaked in the tub, glad she didn't have to see or talk to one more person. When she was done with her bath she put on the oversized hotel robe, her slippers and sat on the bed with a fresh glass, her salad and her laptop. The only English gossip site she knew of was The Mirror, and she clicked on to see if there would happen to be any photos of him, and there were.

Her heart sank as she looked through the dozen or so pictures showing him with a stunning dark haired woman. It was apparent the majority of the photos were taken without the knowledge of the subjects. It showed them in a hotel lobby, and there were several of them in a tea room, in most of them everyone appeared to be having a fine time, talking and laughing. The one posed shot was in front of a restaurant. There were two couples, Neal and Claudette Covert, and Daryl Dixon and Phoebe McCune.

She told herself not to go there, that there was undoubtedly a simple explanation. Just because his photo had been taken several times with some beauty, that didn't mean anything. Right?

That's what she told herself, and that's what she tried to believe. The wine was going down easier and she couldn't seem to fight the tears. She just wanted to see him. She just wanted out of there.

The following day was not starting out well, she was hung over, heartbroken, her feet hurt. She wished she was anywhere besides her booth. And here came Philip Blake, all smiles like they were long lost friends. The minute his arm went to wrap around her she lifted her knee and smashed her heel down on top of his foot, just as hard as she could. He screamed so loudly it seemed half the show's attendees turned to look at him, while she simply said, "Oh I'm sorry, I simply forgot myself."

She managed to make it through the day, and she even made a couple of what she thought would turn out to be great contacts. She was grateful for that and grateful the day had gone as quickly as it had. It pays to be busy.

But she couldn't stop thinking about how this was not the life she wanted, the life she'd dreamed of. There was nothing satisfying or fulfilling about this. And she couldn't stop thinking about how handsome he looked in his overcoat standing in front of that restaurant, with a beautiful woman who wasn't her.

She took a restroom break and tried calling him again, but just like before it went straight to voicemail. The good news was she'd been able to change her flight. She'd put in her two days with the show and she wanted out of there. She'd be leaving on the late flight.

She got to Atlanta and still faced the long drive back to Savannah, but she was full of renewed energy when she saw she had a text from him, "Be home about 8 tomorrow night. Going great here, hope it is for you too. Love You."

That was better, so much better. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn't say those words if he didn't mean them. She texted back, "I'll be waiting. Love You"

By 7:30 she was waiting near his private entrance. When he arrived at shortly after eight she threw her arms around his neck, nearly causing them both to fall over. He dropped his suitcase and wrapped his arms around her waist, he was fighting a laugh, "Damn Darlin' I missed ya too."

"I know now Daryl, I know what matters and what doesn't, what's important to me and what isn't. I love you and if the offer's still good I want the shop for two, and the cabin and most of all I want you, forever."

"I want all that too Beth. All that."

He didn't even bother with the case he just carried her up to his place. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, and his arms were tight around her waist as they stared hard into each others eyes, saying everything they needed to say without speaking a word. He laid her on the bed and there were no subtle beginnings, he was peeling his clothes off as quickly as she was peeling hers off.

He lay down with her, kissing her with the hunger of a starving man, his hands and fingers running over her body as he did. She wasn't shrinking from her own desire or from his, she was matching every bit of his passion, running her own hands along his shoulders, arms, chest and back.

His mouth moved to her breast while he ran the pad of his thumb over the nipple of her other breast and lightly pinched at it. They were on fire with not just their physical need but their emotional need as well. As his fingers went in search of her warmth the wetness he found there was all the proof he needed, she was ready for him. It was raw, it was almost fierce the way their bodies moved in a series of rhythmic thrusts and grinds. It wasn't long before they felt the release they'd both been craving.

Later they would take it slower, they'd prolong the inevitable finish. But for now they lay physically satisfied and knowing that they were about to embark on a life time of love tucked away in the woods and in each others arms.

Together they would create a lifetime of beautiful art.

xxxxx

A/N Thank you so much for reading this story. I would appreciate you leaving a comment / review. x gneebee

The final chapter photo is posted to my tumblr bethylmethbrick. I also posted a Christmas chapter for Love's Highway here on FF this week, and a brand new Bethyl story One Cold Night. I'd appreciate you dropping in and reading those, as well as my other multi chapter Bethyl, Trouble in Mind. I wish you all the Happiest of Holidays! And Remember I love ya large, xo gneebee