AN: It's late, but my hand slipped. A lot. Oops.

…

"You got your hand in my pocket

You like to dance with my fingertips

Don't gotta wait for permission

You and I, we live for this

Oh, you know we live for this."

-Walk The Moon

…

Daryl wasn't expecting to be ambushed the moment he opened his front door.

Then his sweet girl had her mouth slanted over his, fusing their bodies together as much as she could, and he decides to just roll with it.

The first few seconds are all a blur of hands and limbs, knocking the wind out of his lungs when she crosses her arms around the back of his neck at the same time that she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands fall to the bottom of her thighs by pure instinct, cradling her body to his and securing her weight above him. The door is still opened and he's able to regain enough of his senses to kick it shut with his foot a few seconds before Beth breaks their kiss to viciously pull her pretty white blouse off.

Her bra joins it on the floor right after, and now he's got a half-naked Beth wriggling in his arms, digging her fingernails into his scalp and pulling at the short strands of hair to press his lips closer to her own.

God, he's missed her.

It'd been a little over two weeks since the last time he'd seen her; the night she'd surprised him with dinner in his home after the weekend at the bar. News of their relationship finally reached her family and her Daddy had all but locked her in her room, like a little girl being grounded after being caught sneaking out to a party. She was under constant supervision, with the keys to her truck taken away, and she hadn't been able to leave the farm since then. Daryl'd been receiving her angry and frustrated text messages and calls, trying his best to comfort her but knowing he wasn't really being much help. He knew where Hershel Greene was coming from, and he couldn't help but understand him. Lord knew girls like Beth shouldn't have shit to do with men like him.

Don't mean he has to like it, either.

"How'd you get off the farm?" he asks when she pulls back to catch her breath, keeping her forehead pressed to his and panting softly against his cheek.

"Later," she answers, dropping her hands to the hem of his black shirt and already tugging it up his torso. He lowers her back onto the ground so he can untangle his arms from the sleeves at the same time that nimble fingers start working at the buckle of his belt. "I need you right now."

There's something in her voice that feels wrong, claws at his subconscious and echoes in the back of his mind, blaring like warning bells amidst a tornado to stop and make her talk to him now.

But then she's got his belt unbuckled and she's dropping to her knees in front of him, undoing the zipper and shoving down his jeans and boxers until they're stuck around his thighs and his cock springs free. She just stares at it for a few seconds, hard and long and thick, inches away from her face and waiting for her touch, before looking up to meet his eyes. He can read the uncertainty and hesitation mixed in with curiosity and lust in hers, and he wonders what she sees when she looks at his.

Her hand gingerly rises until it just barely ghosts across the vein that runs along his length, and he watches as a little pant escapes her lips and her eyes darken with determination the moment a grunt of pleasure finds it place out of his lungs and firmly between them. She grips him, experimentally running the smoothness of her palm against the rugged skin while her other hands splays on his abdomen for balance. And then she's leaning forward, pressing her lips against his shaft in butterfly kisses before opening her mouth and letting the head of his cock slip inside.

"Fuck," Daryl curses, wanting desperately to bury his hands in her hair and push her head forwards so she could take him completely, but he knows she's not ready for that yet. This is the first time she's ever done this for him, and while he'd fantasized about it plenty of times, he never thought he'd actually get to feel her pretty mouth wrapped around him. Sweet girls like her dropped to their knees to pray, not give head, but then again, he should have known better than to try and clump Beth in with the rest.

Hadn't he learnt his fucking lesson about that already?

Her tongue is shy and teasing as it slides underneath him, coming back up and probing at the opening she finds on the tip. She inhales and exhales deeply through her nose, which scrunches up a little at the same time that he feels the first traces of pre-cum slipping out of him and into her hot and damp mouth. He thinks he might actually blow when her lips tighten around him and she swallows it down, causing more of his dick to slide inside so much that he can feel the head hitting the back of her throat.

Beth's eyes widen, shooting back up to him and asking for guidance.

Daryl looks at her, half-naked, on her knees with his cock between her lips, golden hair flowing down her back like a waterfall and a scarlet blush painted on her chest. Her nipples are hard and dark pink, tight little nubs that give away her arousal and he doesn't know what he's ever done to deserve her or if some higher-being fucked up and put this angel in his path by accident but he's done questioning him.

She's his; now and forever or however long she'll have him.

And she's waiting for him, wanting so badly to please him.

"Bob your head," he instructs her, lifting a hand until it's resting on the back of her head, patiently teaching her and softly pushing her back and forth to ease her into a pace for his eventual thrusts. His free hand falls to the one on his stomach and he grabs onto her wrist, leading it down until she's cupping his balls and massaging them between her fingers. Daryl fights off the urge to just slam into her when her nails dip lower, scratching against the stretched and sensitive skin she finds there.

"When you feel me push in, suck as hard as you can," he pants at her, using both his hands to grab onto her hair now. "Pull back if you feel like ya can't breathe."

He thrusts forward, once, twice, before Beth coughs a little around him and starts breathing harshly. He stills, not wanting to push her beyond her limits or scare her, and it's fucking torture. It takes her a couple of seconds to get her body under control but once she does she's following his directions, moving her head in synch with his hips and sucking on him, being careful not to hurt him with her teeth. It's still mostly just the head that she's dealing with, because Daryl's being really fucking careful about how much he thinks she can handle, but then her eyes close and she starts humming deep in her throat and the vibrations rock through his core so viciously that he has to pull out of her before she's left with a mouthful of his cum.

She's looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction, and all Daryl can do is pull her up to her feet so he can kiss her again. He shoves his tongue into her mouth and she still tastes strawberries and honey but overwhelming it all is the scent of him. Beth's breasts are rubbing against his chest and her hands are pushing his jeans down the remainder of the way. He grunts into their kiss and breaks away from it so he can pick her up, stopping only to kick his shoes off and step out of the clothes pooled around his ankles. Daryl carries her into his bedroom, hardness pressing low against her flat belly, half their clothing still discarded by the door.

He lays her down on the bed, sprawling himself on top of her so he can nibble and suck at her nipples in the way he knows she likes best, which is why he's surprised when both her hands land on his shoulders, pushing him away. "What's wrong?"

"I need you," she hastens to explain, hands finding the zipper of her own jeans and pulling it down. Her voice is shaky and broken, and her eyes are filled with a violent need to dominate or be dominated that he's never seen in them before. It's like she's been plucked out of balance, desperately searching for something to anchor her back into reality where she can regain her control. "Right now."

He recognizes that need; to be lost and swayed and taken until everything gets cleared out. She doesn't need a gentle and soothing touch at the moment, doesn't need sweet words whispered in her ear as he strokes her to completion or another affirmation of his obvious adoration for her.

She needs to be fucked.

Hard and rough, until all she can feel is him and bliss.

"Tell me what you want," he demands, helping her pull off her jeans and underwear, leaving her completely bare before him. "Gotta say it, if ya want it."

"I want you."

His fingers slide between her thighs, cupping her the same way she'd done to him and using his index to tangle with the wet curls guarding her sex. He pulls at them, lightly and with barely any force, but it's enough to have her crying out and his grin is smug when her moan is cut off and turns into a sharp gasp the moment his thumb presses down on her nub.

"Want me like this?" he questions, mouth reattaching to her abandoned nipple as his thumb continues to press down, circling around her clit in different speeds. Her legs begin to tremble, and he can bet his ass that if he were to slip his fingers into her right now she'd cum on the spot.

"Yes, no," Beth pants, shaking her head and clawing at his back. Her eyes are snapped shut and her mouth is opened. She's covered in a sheen of sweat and looks positively ready to combust. "More."

"Say it, songbird," he prompts, easing the pressure off her clit before giving it a quick pinch.

"I need you inside of me," she groans, reaching for his cock between them and tugging at him until he's aligned with her. Tears of frustration and need begin to stream down her cheeks. She's practically sobbing for her impending release and it's everything he needs when she whispers out, "please, Daryl."

He slams into her, hard and unyielding, fingers still pressed to her sex and mouth sucking each of her small breasts into his mouth. A few more thrusts and she's coming undone underneath him, but Daryl doesn't give her a chance to come down from her high before continuing. He pulls out from her only long enough to flip her over, and now she's faced down on the bed while he kneels up behind her. He grabs onto her hips, pulling them up until they're leveled with his own and Beth barely has enough time to lock her elbows for balance before he's pushing back in.

Daryl doesn't give her any leeway. Doesn't give her a chance to think or speak as he works her body until all she can express is gasps and moans and groans of pleasure. It's basic and animalistic but it's something she needs and another side of Daryl that he'd never dreamed he'd be able to share with her.

She starts to tighten around him again, and Daryl places a hand on her lower back to keep her bent against the mattress when her spine begins to arch against him. "Give it up, girl."

She does.

Loudly and violently. Entire body shaking and with an uncharacteristically loud moan to go with it. His songbird was always so quiet during sex; all soft moan and groans and lows purrs that rumbled in her throat before she curled into him. She would pant in his ear or whisper what she needed from him, and while Daryl wouldn't trade those sounds for the world, it was good for his ego to know he could make her lose complete control.

He finishes soon after, emptying himself inside her and thank fuck for the birth control pills she was on. He'd never been one to mess around with his condoms and protection, but Beth had a way of making him lose him composure and had him acting like a horny schoolboy instead of a grown and experienced man. He didn't want her to suffer the consequences just because he screwed up, and they weren't ready for a baby.

Not yet, anyway.

Daryl's careful when he slides out, and he smiles when he notices that she is seconds away from falling asleep. He pulls her into his arms to get the bed sheet out from underneath her and tucks them both in. Beth curls up against him, sighing in contentment, and Daryl lets himself believe in peace before he follows her into sleep.

…

"Ain't ever gonna be complaining, but you wanna tell me what brought that on?"

A furious blush burns across Beth's cheeks, causing her to drop her gaze until it rests on her lap, fingers chipping away at the edges her blue nail polish. They're sitting on his bed, backs resting against the mountain of pillows she'd insisted he needed, even though he'd never felt the need to own more than one in his life, spooning at a carton of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream she'd decided she was craving even though it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. They were both halfway dressed, with Daryl pulling on a pair of sweats while Beth slipped back into her panties and one of his old and worn-down cotton shirts.

She was a mess. Her hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun that had a dozen wayward curls slipping and framing her face. Her lips were bright red and swollen from their kisses and her makeup was smeared around her eyes in deep black smudges. Her whole body was covered in a thin layer of dried sweat and the scent of sex clung to her skin without give.

Daryl knew he'd never seen anything sexier.

"I dunno," she mumbles, barely understandable as she turns her head away from him and visibly attempts to shrink into herself.

It irks and bothers him, seeing her like this, because in all the time they've spent together she'd never acted this way. Sure, she could be shy and reserved at times, but for the most part Beth had always been bright and brave and bold; calling him out on his bullshit and going after whatever she wanted without holding back. To watch her suddenly turn into this squeamish girl who seemed to be embarrassed and mortified by what they'd just done had all sorts of things racing through his mind, primarily the fear that he'd been too rough and hurt or scared her somehow.

"Don't 'I dunno' me, girl," he tells her, imitating her mumbled response before taking her hands between his and pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips. "You and me agreed, back when this started, that you'd tell me if ya didn't like something we did. I gotta be able to trust ya to keep your word. It's the only way this works, songbird."

Surprise blooms on her face. "No, Daryl," she shakes her head, squeezing his fingers between hers and sitting up until she's kneeling in front of him. "It's nothing like that, it's just that, well, like, it's just, you know-"

"Say it."

"I really liked it," she rushes out, closing her eyes and scrunching her eyebrows together until they're furrowed in the center of her forehead. She lifts one of her eyelids, peaking at him and chewing down on her bottom lip before opening the other one. "I never thought I would want and like something like that."

Realization hits him like a blow to the back of his head, and he curses himself for not figuring it out sooner. Of course she was bound to have doubts about sex; she'd been innocent and a virgin until she started seeing him. Not only that, but she'd been raised in a small town with a highly religious family who he was sure believed in abstinence until marriage and expected as much from their youngest member. Their relationship had been a secret up until two weeks ago and Daryl had no doubt that she'd never mentioned any part of it to a single soul.

Sometimes he forgot how young she really was.

He should have tried to coax her into telling him what she was feeling, instead of expecting her to already have all the answers. He wasn't used to relationships or talking about feelings but she deserved that and he owed it to her, even if it made him uncomfortable as all hell.

He untangles one of his hands from her grip, lifting it until it's cupping her cheek. He spreads his fingers until they're stroking underneath her ear, and she melts into his touch and lets out a little sigh of contentment. He waits until her shy eyes are set on him, dropping his tone so it's comforting and reassuring. "You ain't never gotta be embarrassed of doing somethin' that makes you feel good, ya hear?"

"It's not so much that I'm embarrassed. It's just that, like, I had my mouth on you and I basically attacked you," she tries to explain, flustered and blushing at the memory of earlier in their night, but then guilt flashes across her pretty blue eyes and a little bit more of the puzzle falls into place. "And after, it didn't feel like making love, or even just having sex; it felt like I was only using you to get an urge met."

Beth falls back into her hunches, leaning away from him. Daryl pushes at the bed sheets until he's free from their entanglement around his legs, standing up beside the bed. "Com'ere," he signals, using two fingers to motion her to him and opening his arms wide in invitation.

Her answer is a timid smile, but she obediently shuffles across the bed until she's kneeling in front of him and their heights rival. He pulls her body into his, one hand pressed to the small of her back, keeping her close while his other hand slipped under the material of her shirt and trailed up and down the path of her spine; across her shoulder blades before coming back down to dip into the curves underneath her breasts, no attempts to get her naked or have her reciprocate.

Gentle and calming.

Reassuring and tender.

Loving.

Everything that'd been missing from their previous encounter, but was always present in his heart when he was with her. He grins and his lungs inflate with unfiltered satisfaction when she finally relaxes, placing both her hands on his chest and snuggling into his embrace until her nose is tucked into the crook of his neck, temple resting on his shoulder. Daryl's hands slide down her ass, lifting her up and away from the bed. Her legs clutch around his waist, bodies lining up with comfortable familiarity and holding tight with utter trust and confidence.

He turns around and carries her out of his room and away from his bed, away from what he knows she sees as the biggest representation of sex between them, not stopping until they reach the sofa in the living room. All the lights are off except for a single lamp in the corner of the room and the soft glow makes her pale and creamy skin look like it's made out of gold. This time when he sits down she's on his lap and completely wrapped up in him and he can feel her deep breaths against his collarbone.

"I really, really, love you."

He murmurs in acknowledgement, rubbing soothing circles on her back and waiting until she falls asleep again.

One of these days, he'd find the guts to tell her the same.

…

"Mama always did love taking pictures."

Beth looks up from the old photo album she'd been skimping through, surprised to find her sister standing a few feet away from her. She'd been sitting on the hammock in the porch for the last half hour, reminiscing about happier times and she guesses she must have been too engrossed in her memories to hear the soft squeak of the screen door being opened or the creak of strained wood as Maggie stepped outside.

It's a beautiful night, chilly, but peaceful. Beth can hear the horses sleeping and occasionally neighing in the barn and the cicadas chirp as loudly and beautifully as she remembers. The sky is clean and full of stars that one can never see in Savanna, much less New York, and she would be the first to admit that camping in the outdoors with her family was one of the things she missed the most.

"She did," Beth agrees, trying not to let her mouth gap open when Maggie crosses the porch and takes a seat beside her. She's wearing a maroon knit sweater, similar to the white one Beth was wearing and she can't help but think that they've always been a mismatched set; as similar as they were different. She wiggles until she's comfortable, then pulls the album away from her and settles it down right between them.

"That one used to be my favorite of yours," she declares, pointing to the picture on left-hand corner of the page with the caption 'her first day' written in her mother's soft and elegant script underneath it.

She stares at the reflection of her younger self, back when she was five years old and just starting kindergarten. Remembers her momma letting her wear her favorite lilac princess dress with her hot-pink boots if she promised she'd be brave and not cry at school and tried to make friends. She remembers how much she'd complained that morning as her mother weaved the wild mess that's always been her hair into a French braid. Beth remembers how happy she'd been when she saw her waiting for her as soon as her day ended, right after noon, and taken her for ice cream while they waited the extra time for Maggie's school to let out.

It was the best feeling in the world; having the arms of the person you love most in the world wrapped around you, holding you tight and protecting you from all harm. Filling you up with warmth and unconditional understanding and making you feel strong when you're feeling scared. Constant reassurances that you are brave and intelligent and can do anything you set your mind to.

She misses her.

Badly. Frantically. Desperately.

It's been seven years and there's still not a single thing she wouldn't do for the chance to have her mother hold her tight and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be alright.

Beth wishes she could tell her sister all these things. Wishes she could look her in the eyes and tell her what she feels and how heartbroken she's been and maybe still is. Wishes Maggie would do the same; hold her hand and tell her she understands because she'd been through it, too, and maybe they'd cry for a while but then the flood would finally be broken and once all the water sloshed away they'd find the peace hidden underneath.

Yeah, and if wishes were fishes we'd all be throwing nets.

Instead, she deflects. "You just like it 'cause you can see that I was missing my front teeth."

"Well, that's true, too," Maggie laughs, leaning her head down so it's on her shoulder. She takes a deep breath, and Beth can picture her closing her eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier. I know stormin' in ain't exactly the best way to make a first impression."

Beth stiffens, closing the album on their lap and moving it away until its safe on the railing. "What was that even about? You just blew past us locked yourself away until right now."

"I know."

"I hadn't seen you in over a year."

"I know."

"We came all the way down here to be with y'all and nobody except Daddy was here."

"I know."

"Then why the hell did you do that?" Beth finally snaps, tearing herself away from her sister. "I love you and I wanted to see you and introduce you and all I got was a door slammed in my face and Glenn asking me to understand and not be mad."

Maggie has the courtesy of looking ashamed, and she pushes her shoulder-length hair away from her face before turning back to her sister. "I didn't think I could have a conversation with you without mentioning him at that particular moment."

Beth stills, narrowing her eyes in disbelief. It's her day back and she's tired of his memory being brought up at every turn. If she wanted to talk about him, she'd be the one to mention him. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"People still talk about you two, ya know?"

"It doesn't matter: I'm with Pete now and I'm happy."

"I know that," Maggie defends herself, letting out an exasperated groan. Her gaze drops to the floor, staring at a crack on a piece of wood her Daddy had been meaning to get to for the past eight years. "I'm not your enemy, Beth. It's just that we went to the market and some ladies heard me talking about you being back with Patricia and Tara and they started butting in and making sly comments about you finally being back after running away because you ruined your reputation with him."

"He ain't the boogeyman, Maggie," Beth chides her, staring at her through slanted eyes and curled up fists. "He isn't gonna pop up and hurt me just because you say his name. I grew up and I'm over it."

Beth gets it; really, she does.

They were from a small town where everybody knew each other. She'd grown up being sweet and innocent until she was sixteen and stopped being the farmer's daughter to turn into the girl with a scarred wrist and a dead mother. Then when she'd turned eighteen that label had been switched for that of an easy harlot that slept with a man twice her age with a criminal reputation. Some said she needed guidance before being a lost cause, others said she needed Jesus; Beth didn't stick around for them to make up their mind.

Now they knew she was back and they were all dying to see what joke she'd made of her life.

"Yeah, you say that, but it doesn't change the fact that this is the first time in five years that anyone's been able to get you down here. If it isn't him, then what the heck's been keepin' you away? What are you running from that you were so afraid to come back home?"

It's a low blow, and it feels worse than if her sister had decided to slap across the face. All the anger and resentment she's worked so hard to dismiss or keep bottled in simmers, and Beth is done letting people pretend like they've got any right to judge her.

"You're the last person that can talk to me about running away."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean! I needed you and you ran away with a boy you'd barely started dating instead of staying with me!"

"It wasn't just a random guy," the older Greene argues, lifting her left hand so her ring glimmers under the porch light. "It was Glenn and I married him and I have a family with him now."

"It's not the point," she groans, half-wondering how nobody has heard their argument or bothered to come outside to check on the sisters. "He's a good guy, I know that, but I was your sister. I loved you and I was alone and you left me and never looked back."

"You were gonna do the same thing," she accuses her, flustered and angry and rising her voice to yell over her sister's. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have run off with Daryl Dixon if he hadn't turned out to be an asshole that was just using you, like we all told you."

Maggie freezes, confusion crossing her features like she can't believe the words came from her, eyes darting around the porch and looking for an imaginary culprit.

"No, wait, Bethy, I'm sorry," she apologizes, reaching for her but Beth's already off the hammock and stepping away from her. She feels like there's something clogging up her throat, keeping her from breathing and forcing her eyes to burn from the exertion. The stupid fucking box in her chest breaks open, and every memory of him comes rushing forward until she's swaying on her feet. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," Beth forces out, somehow finding her voice as she struggles to shove it all back into the box that refused to hold up. "It's what every single one of you thinks about me since you found out you were right and I was oh, so, stupid and wrong."

"Bethy…"

"Goodnight, Maggie."

Her sister just nods, knowing when it was time to give up and turning away from her at the same time that Beth steps back into the house. She walks up the stairs, thankful that everyone seemed to be distracted and failed to notice her. Once she reaches her room she locks the door behind her, slipping underneath the covers and curling into the warmth that Pete provides. He's already asleep, and she's glad for the opportunity to compose herself before facing him in the morning.

Except that, for the first time in a long time, it's not enough.

His gentle and soft touch as she cuddles with him can't compete with the memories of bruising fingers on her hips. His soft snores sound like bullhorns in comparison to the barely audible deep breaths that used to rumble out of a hard and solid chest. When she wraps her arms around him, his back is smooth and muscled, free of any faults or stains, where her fingers used to revel in the contours of every single scar and tattoo, hoping to discover the stories beneath them.

And why the fuck should that matter, she scolds herself.

Daryl Dixon wasn't here anymore. He was gone; a bad memory that should have been erased long ago instead of being locked away and given the time it needed to fester and poison her.

Maybe her family was onto something, and she really was insane.

…

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

They've only been at the farm for three days, and Beth couldn't wait for the rest to be over. Maggie'd been avoiding her since their argument on the porch their first night back in the farm, and so was Glenn, out of solidarity with his wife. He would smile at her and he'd hang out with Pete but he wouldn't hold an actual conversation with her, and Beth was okay with it. In comparison, Tara had been trying to get to know her and she'd bring Michael with her to spend some much needed quality time with his blonde aunt.

Her Daddy and Otis spent the majority of their time out in the yard, bonding with the men in their daughter's life and telling them stories of the wild Greene's when they'd been young and crazy and happy. Everybody liked Pete, just like Beth knew they would, and he'd fit right into their lives. Nobody mentioned that he was older than her, or that he still wasn't the oldest man she'd loved in her young life.

Daryl Dixon was a name banned from this property.

Patricia, bless her soul, was a godsend.

Out of everybody, Beth missed her the most. Patricia had always stood by her side and continued to do so, even after all the bad decisions she'd made. She would never take her mother's place in her heart, but she'd been an excellent surrogate and Beth knew she was lucky to have her. Which was why, when Patricia quietly asked her if she'd sing at her wedding reception, Beth only smiled and agreed without hesitating. She'd sing all night if that's what they wanted, never mind that it'd been years since she's performed for an audience.

She could do it.

The ceremony was only a week away and she had Pete to keep her sane. Once it was over, maybe they could go home a little bit earlier than planned and everything would be done and her obligations fulfilled.

But he was leaving now.

He cringes at her shrill tone, pausing in his packing and tilting his head to meet her angry gaze, standing with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. "I'm sorry; you know I wouldn't leave unless it was an emergency, but Mitch got himself into a world of trouble and I need to get back to try and smooth this over."

"You promised you'd be here with me."

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he apologizes, again. Beth was getting really sick and tired of people telling her they were sorry. "But my mother is losing her mind over this and the press knows about it and I have to fix it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You're going to miss the wedding," she accuses him, knowing she was being irrational and transferring her anger out of her entire situation to him, but being unable to stop herself. Damn it, he was supposed to be the constant solid in her life, her rock, and he was leaving her right when she needed him the most.

Even if he had no clue about it because she couldn't get her shit straight and just tell him the truth.

"No," he shakes his head, rounding the bed so he's standing in front of her. He grabs onto her hands, pulling her into a hug before leaning down to press their temples together. "I promise you I will be here for it, and we're gonna dance all night and I'm gonna gloat while everyone listens to your pretty voice singing."

She doesn't budge yet, turning her face away from him.

"Don't be mad at me," he pleads, tilting her chin up to press a chaste kiss against her lips. "You know if I could I would stay."

"I'm not mad," she mutters, finally relenting and admitting it wasn't as bad as she was making it out to be. He'd be back soon; she knew he would. "Just disappointed."

"I'm sorry."

"Mitch is an idiot," Beth pouts, crossing her arms below her chest and flopping down on the bed. "But I hope he's okay."

Pete smiles, fully aware that he was forgiven. "I know, and me too."

She spends the next twenty minutes helping him pack his carry-on bag. He was leaving the rest of his clothes since he would need those once he returned, and there was no point in him dragging them back and forth. He was driving back instead of flying, and after a bunch of deliberations that Beth thought were hugely unnecessary, they'd agree that he'd take the Mercedes with him but they'd stop and rent another car in town for her to use before he left, per his request.

He said goodbye to her family, briefly explaining the situation and promising Patricia he'd be back in time for the wedding and Otis that he'd try and make it to the fishing trip he was organizing two days before then. He shook her Daddy's hand and thanked him for his hospitality, and bid goodbye to Maggie and her family. Pete held her hand the entire ride into town, holding her close when they pulled up to the tiny rental shop and picked out a car for her to use while he was gone.

And then he was off, driving back to Savannah and leaving her to deal with her family, alone.

Too bad neither of them noticed the older man with a receding hairline staring at them from inside a diner across the street, rubbing his chin and grinning like a madman as he recognized the pale girl with golden hair his baby brother had tried so hard to keep a secret.

…

AN: Hey guys!

Sorry for the delay, this week was truly a mess but updates should be coming sooner again. I'm really glad you guys are liking this story, and look! I got rid of Pete already.

Shout out to Katie for teaching me her tumblr ways and fangirling with me even though I'm super lame. Ha!

Next up: It seems that I've finally found our beautiful Dixons.

Don't forget to review! Feedback is always appreciated!

-Ashley