13. Beth
Chapter 13
Beth
T he snowflakes danced around us, each one catching the glow of the Christmas lights strung across the shops. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stretched up on my tiptoes, my hands pressed against the rough canvas of Daryl's work jacket. The kiss happened before I could think twice about it.
His lips were warm despite the December chill, and for one terrifying moment, he froze. My stomach dropped. What was I thinking? I started to pull back, an apology already forming?—
But then his calloused hand cupped my cheek, and the world tilted. Daryl kissed me back with an intensity that made my knees weak. The scent of motor oil, smoke, and pine wrapped around me as he drew me closer. His other hand settled at the small of my back, steady and sure, like he'd been waiting to hold me just like this.
The snow melted against my flushed cheeks. My fingers curled into his jacket, holding on as if I might float away. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, gentle in a way I never expected from those work-roughened hands.
"Beth," he breathed against my lips, my name carrying a weight I'd never heard before.
The kiss deepened, and the lights, the snow, the whole world disappeared. There was only the warmth of his embrace, the way his fingers tangled in my hair, and the soft sigh that escaped him when I traced his bottom lip.
When we finally broke apart, our breaths mingled in the cold air between us. Snowflakes caught in his dark eyelashes, and that permanent furrow in his brow had smoothed away. For once, he didn't look away or try to hide behind that wall he'd built around himself.
"I've wanted to do that since you first walked into my garage," he murmured.
My heart skipped, and I pressed my smile against his jaw. "Even when I was being too chatty?"
"Especially then."
"Why didn't you?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound steady.
He looked at me, those stormy eyes searching mine. For what, I couldn't tell.
"What?" I pressed, my heart hammering louder now.
"Come on, Morrison," he drawled, a hint of frustration edging his tone. "You know why."
"I don't?—"
"Stop acting stupid," he cut in sharply.
"So now I'm stupid?" My cheeks burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment. This wasn't how I'd imagined our moment would go.
"No, I—" He stepped back, his jaw tightening. He looked like he wanted to punch something. "You know better than this. I'm old. You're young. You're good and... and pure and?—"
"Pure?" The word stung like an accusation.
"I don't mean?—"
"Then what are you saying?" I demanded, stepping closer despite the icy air between us.
"I'm no good for you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You can't really believe that," I argued. "Come on, Daryl. Don't do that. Don't… box this into something it's not."
He looked away, the muscle in his jaw ticking like a countdown clock.
"What do you want?" I asked softly.
"What?"
"You heard me," I insisted. "What do you want?"
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze flickered over my face, as if searching for an escape route that wasn't there.
"What do you want?" I repeated, my voice firmer this time.
Daryl's eyes met mine, dark and stormy. "I?—"
"Stop waiting for someone to tell you what you're allowed to want," I interrupted. "What do you?—"
Before I could finish, his lips crashed into mine with a hunger that took my breath away. He pushed me back against the cold brick wall of the building, his hands gripping my hips with a desperate urgency. The kiss was wild, consuming, like he'd been holding back an ocean of emotion and it finally burst free.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if that were possible. The world narrowed to the heat between us, the rough texture of his stubble against my skin, the way his body pressed against mine like he needed this to breathe.
His hands roamed up my sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He cupped my face with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the raw intensity of his kiss. I could taste the lingering hint of coffee on his lips, feel the ragged edge of his breath mixing with mine.
Every thought evaporated, replaced by pure sensation. The feel of his hands anchoring me to him, the rhythm of our hearts pounding in sync. My own need mirrored in every fierce touch, every demanding kiss.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us gasping for air. His eyes searched mine, still stormy but softer now.
"Beth," he murmured again, and this time it wasn't a question or a plea—it was a promise.
I pressed my lips to his once more, slower this time but no less intense. His response was immediate, meeting my need with an urgency that sent shivers down my spine. Every kiss felt like it could be our last and our first all at once.
The cold brick behind me was a distant memory as he claimed every part of me with those kisses. His hands framed my face like he was memorizing it, his thumb tracing patterns along my jawline that sent electricity through me.
When we finally broke apart again, both breathless and flushed, I saw something new in his eyes—a vulnerability he'd never shown before.
I leaned in and kissed him gently one last time, feeling the tremor in his lips as he kissed me back just as softly.
We stood there in the snow-kissed night, tangled up in each other and whatever this moment meant for us.
"Take me home with you," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Daryl's eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly. "Beth, I?—"
"We don't," I stammered, feeling my cheeks burn. "I don't mean…"
I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself. "I just… I want to kiss you again. And I'm getting cold."
I tilted my head to the side, searching his eyes for any sign of what he was thinking. The snow continued to fall around us; the world muffled and quiet.
Daryl's gaze bore into mine, as if he was trying to see into my soul.
"Sorry," I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "I'm too forward. I?—"
He cut me off again and kissed me softly, his lips warm and gentle against mine. The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment as everything faded away except for the feel of his mouth on mine.
"I'll take you home," he murmured when we broke apart. "But my place isn't…"
"You've seen my car," I pointed out with a small smile. "I'm not going to judge you, Daryl. I… I just want to know you."
"But… why?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I'm not… anything, Beth. Nothing you deserve."
"Let me figure out what I deserve, hmm?" I asked softly.
He looked like he was going to refuse but finally nodded. He picked up the old guitar case and gestured toward his truck.
We walked together through the snow-covered streets, our footsteps crunching softly in the quiet night. The cold air nipped at my skin, but I didn't mind. Daryl's presence was enough to keep me warm.
When we reached his truck, he opened the passenger door for me and helped me in before closing it gently behind me. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine; the heater blasting warm air as we drove through town.
The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the truck as it navigated the snowy roads. Daryl's hand rested on the gearshift, his knuckles white with tension.
I reached over and placed my hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road, but I saw a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe—in his gaze.
We pulled up to a small house on the outskirts of town. It was modest but had a certain charm with its peeling paint and worn steps leading up to the front door.
"This is it," Daryl said quietly as he turned off the engine.
"It's perfect," I replied with a smile.
We got out of the truck and walked up to the house together. As we stepped inside, warmth enveloped us both—the kind that came not just from a heater but from something deeper.
Daryl set down the guitar case and turned to look at me, uncertainty written all over his face.
"I'm glad you came tonight," I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek.
His hand covered mine as he leaned into my touch ever so slightly.
"So am I," he whispered back. "Let me just..." Daryl let his voice trail off, heading through the house to the back.
I took a step to follow him but paused when he reappeared, his arms full of wood. He moved with a quiet efficiency, placing the logs in the small fireplace and striking a match to light the kindling. Flames flickered to life, casting a warm glow around the room.
"Your house needs Christmas decorations," I pointed out, glancing around at the sparse furnishings and bare walls.
"It does not, actually," he groused, settling down on the couch.
I joined him, tucking my feet underneath me as I faced him. "So," I began, "what's your favorite color?"
He looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Really? That's what you want to know?"
"I figure I'll take it easy on you in the beginning," I said with a playful grin.
His lips twitched as if fighting a smile. "Fine. Blue."
"Blue?" I echoed. "Like sky blue or navy blue?"
"Navy," he clarified, leaning back and watching the fire.
"Good choice," I nodded thoughtfully. "Navy is solid, dependable."
"What about you?" he asked after a moment of silence.
"Green," I replied without hesitation.
"Green?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why green?"
"It's lively," I explained. "Full of promise and growth."
Daryl shook his head slightly but didn't argue. Instead, he glanced around his living room as if seeing it through my eyes for the first time. "You really think this place needs decorations?"
"It couldn't hurt," I said gently. "A few lights, maybe a wreath."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not good at that kind of thing."
"I could help," I offered softly. "If you want."
His eyes met mine, searching for something unspoken. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "Yeah... maybe."
We fell into another comfortable silence, the crackling fire filling the room with its soft murmur. It felt like we were sharing more than just space—something deeper and unspoken passed between us in those quiet moments.
"So," he broke the silence again, surprising me with his own question, "why do you love Christmas so much?"
I smiled softly, memories flooding back. "It's about hope and love and believing in magic when everything else feels impossible."
He looked at me with an intensity that made my heart race. For once, Daryl didn't seem quite so closed off or distant.
He leaned in, his eyes darkening with an emotion I couldn't quite name. My breath caught in my throat as his hand found my cheek, rough and warm. Time seemed to stretch out, each second hanging between us like a fragile thread.
Then his lips touched mine, softly at first, testing the waters. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I felt the world around me fade into a blur of warmth and sensation. His kiss was slow, unhurried, as if we had all the time in the world. The softness of his lips against mine sent a shiver down my spine.
I responded instinctively, leaning into him and threading my fingers through his hair. The kiss deepened, growing more insistent but never losing that gentle touch. It was as if he was pouring all the things he couldn't say into that kiss, telling me everything he felt without words.
The fire crackled beside us, casting flickering shadows on the walls. I felt his other hand slide around my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My skin tingled where he touched me, and I sighed softly against his lips.
When we finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine, and for once, they were free of their usual guardedness.
"Beth," he whispered my name like it was a secret he'd been holding onto for too long.
"Daryl," I murmured back, my voice trembling with a mix of emotions—hope, desire, something deeper I wasn't ready to name yet.
He kissed me again, slower this time but just as intense. It felt like a promise, one that neither of us fully understood yet but were willing to explore together.
In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the closeness of Daryl's embrace, I felt something shift inside me. Maybe it was the magic of Christmas or just the magic of being with him. Either way, I knew this was only the beginning of whatever lay ahead for us.
We sat there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the quiet comfort of the night. The world outside might have been cold and uncertain, but here with Daryl, everything felt just right.