Bethany Sutton Chapter 10

Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song, sounds like she's singing
I said "Ooo, baby, ooo"
Said "Ooo"

The music poured from the speakers that Daryl had placed in the corners of the ceiling with such rich clarity that it sounded like Stevie Nicks was giving a live performance in the middle of the living room. Daryl peered into the oven to check the chicken he was roasting. It had at least another hour before it was done. Every now and then his eyes went to Beth, who sat on the couch staring out the window with her legs tucked up under her. She looked tiny and lost, and deep sadness filled her eyes.

He went to her and knelt in front of her. Every evening for the past week she’d come over for dinner. She rarely spoke. He didn’t know how to lift her from the mood she was in.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“About what?”

“What you’re feeling.”

She turned her steady gaze to him. “My father was almost killed. I was almost killed. I feel like I may never see my family again. At any moment some killer could pop up out of nowhere and take you or me out. I’m feeling pretty shitty, honestly. On top of it all, you’ve spent the past week off all three of your jobs to look after me. I feel like I’m screwing up your life. I feel like a fucking burden! I’m useless. I can’t work because Negan, or one of his people, may walk into the café at any moment. I can’t do anything but sit around while…Oh God. Forget it.”

“So I’m taking a couple of weeks off from my work,” Daryl shrugged. “I’m not exactly complaining about a vacation. Beth, you’re not a burden. You’re not useless and none of this is your fault. It happened to you and it’s beyond your control.”

“I know that, but knowing it doesn’t make it easier to live with.”

He promised he’d return soon and disappeared into his bathroom. After twenty minutes he returned.

“Come on.” He held out his hand.

Beth regarded him warily. “Where?”

“Just trust me.”

She took his hand and followed him into the bathroom. There was a walk-in shower to the right, and a large round tub as deep as a pool with jets that made the deep blue water roll. The water was scented with something flowery and soothing.

“Get in. I’ll come back for you in twenty.”

Deciding to humor Daryl, Beth undressed and slipped into the tub. The water was just right, hot without being uncomfortable, and it rolled against her skin like hundreds of fingertips pressing the tension away from her muscles. She closed her eyes and felt her body relax. Her muscles had been tenser than she realized. It seemed as though no time at all had passed before Daryl summoned her. He’d set out a very thick blue robe that she wrapped herself in after toweling off.

“Come on. Don’t be afraid,” he said, smiling at her.

He took her hand and led her into the smallest of the three bedrooms. It had a window that overlooked the parking lot, not a great view, but that wasn’t what mattered. The shelves that lined the walls had, literally, hundreds of differently scented oils and rubs and equipment. The center of the room was taken up by a table.

“Take off your robe and climb up. Don’t be embarrassed. I see people naked all the time. This is just part of the job.”

It wasn’t embarrassment that made her nipples threaten to pebble when she slid the robe off her body and she climbed up on the table. There was a place for her face to poke through and she found herself staring at the floor. There was a screen built into the floor that showed her images of waterfalls and other natural scenes. Then the room was filled with the soothing sounds of a rainstorm.

“Here we go,” Daryl said.

He drizzled something onto her back and then began to rub it into her skin. He worked at her muscles with such expertise that she moaned.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No need to apologize,” he replied softly.

“This is great. I can see why someone would pay hundreds of dollars for a massage from you.”

It really was wonderful. He put something that felt like it was made of wood against her skin and rolled it up and down. It made a clicking sound and it rolled the knots of tension right out of the center of her back. He began working his way down her legs and finally her feet. Then he came up to her arms and massaged them down to her fingers.

“You’ve got a place here,” he said, returning to her lower back and pressing a sore spot that had a knot underneath.

“It’s been hurting ever since that crazy woman attacked me. I landed on something, I think,” Beth said.

“I’ll take care of it.”

He began to gently work the sore muscles with the pads of his thumbs until the pain melted away. Once it was gone, he started to go over her back once again. Without any tension left in her muscles the feel of his hands shifted from soothing to arousing.

“Okay, turn over,” he said.

She could tell by the look on his face that he was in work mode. He was focused on her legs, his brow furrowed in concentration. He worked his way down to her feet and was massaging them when another moan escaped her. This time it was clearly not a moan of pleasure that innocently stemmed from the therapeutic benefits of the massage, but one of sexual arousal.

“Daryl…” she breathed.

He swallowed, feeling the shift of energy between them, and put her foot down.

“Well, dinner is almost ready and I think you’re good,” he said. “You can wear the--”

Beth sat up as he was walking past her and took his face in her hands.

“Daryl…”

“Beth, look, this isn’t--”

She pressed her lips to his and parted her knees so that he was between them, leaning against the table. His hands immediately went to her lower back to pull her flush against him. He parted his lips and Beth deepened the kiss without hesitation, moans of need escaping them both. He pulled away, though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Keep touching me,” she breathed. “I need you to touch me.”

“We agreed to be just friends,” he reminded her. Though being just friends wasn’t nearly enough for him it would have to do. She deserved a man who would be hers and only hers, and his lifestyle wouldn’t allow for that.

“I want you so much.”

“I want you too,” he confessed.

“You can have me. Right here, right now.”

With a moan on his lips, one of anguish rather than pleasure, Daryl backed away from Beth. His eyes roamed her body and he ached to climb upon the table and give her everything she wanted, and to take what he wanted from her, but he refused.

“This isn’t the time.”

“Why not?” she said in frustration.

“Because you’re grieving over your family and…Beth, it’s too much, too soon. I’ve spent my whole life rushing into bed with women. I’ve made the same mistake over and over. If we do this, let’s do it right. Let’s take it slow. I know I’m just a whore but I--”

“You’re not just a whore, Daryl, you’re a good man and you deserve to be happy. You also don’t have to keep doing it for a living,” she told him. “I know you’re right. Now isn’t the time and we should take it slow, but…”

It was hard to put her feelings into words. Now that she’d cooled off a bit she was glad he’d shown restraint. She didn’t want to mess up something that could be good, and she reminded herself that she wouldn’t necessarily have him to herself.

“You can stop that other part of your life,” she said. “Think it over.”

In the other room the timer on the oven sounded. Daryl kissed her chastely on the lips and then left her to find something to wear. She ended up going into his room and finding one of his tee shirts. She pulled on her underwear, though not her bra, and came to the table to eat.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, eying her with dangerous interest.

“Nope,” she said sweetly. “I just don’t want to put my used clothes back on after a bath. Let’s eat.”

Somewhat stiffly, feeling tight in his jeans, Daryl took a seat across from her at the table.

.

As soon as Beth went home for the night Daryl sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. After checking his finances he estimated his total net worth at somewhere around 5.3 million dollars. He didn’t need to work anymore. He could retire now, or at least semi-retire by giving up his work in the sex trade. He could even give up his job at Parrish Interiors and work as a masseur. He was a favorite at Lakeshore Country Club. He would work a few days a week and enjoy the rest of his life with Beth.

What if she changes her mind?

The one thing that held Daryl back from fully committing was fear. What if he gave Beth his heart and she broke it? He abandoned the desk for a soak in the tub, taking a glass of champagne with him, and mulled it over.

Love didn’t come easily for Daryl Dixon. He’d been denied love and affection as a child, except for a few rare moments of sobriety from his mother in which she showed him kindness before she died when he was twelve, burning herself to death when she fell asleep with a lit cigarette and taking their meager little house with her.

Daryl had never been in a normal relationship with a woman. He’d always been too afraid to try because he was certain he’d fail. He honestly couldn’t understand what Beth saw in him. He didn’t know why she wanted to try. He couldn’t reason out what it was about him that drew her. His money wasn’t a draw for Beth. He could spot a gold digger a mile off. No, Beth was in this for him.

Against his best instincts Daryl finished his bath and returned to his desk. He calculated how much money he owed Ophelia, Nora, and Rachelle, prorated for time already used, and printed out checks. He also printed out letters explaining his retirement. He stamped envelopes and, before he could change his mind, walked the letters with the checks to the drop box in the lobby of the building and slipped them in. It was done. He was no longer a sex worker. He wasn’t taking it back.

For the first time in over ten years Daryl Dixon wasn’t a whore.

.

“Get up,” Daryl said.

Beth had given him a key to her apartment, and he’d done likewise, at the request of Rick and Michonne. Everyone had keys to each others units should they need to get in during an emergency.

She looked, to Daryl, like an angel. She was hopelessly young and her face was so innocent in the first rays of dawn that illuminated her apartment in golden light. She smiled slightly but kept her eyes closed. Daryl had brought a warm wet cloth with him. He used it to gently clear sleep from her eyes.

“It’s time to wake up,” he said.

“But it’s early.”

“We have ten days until Independence Day. We need to get the flowerbeds finished and filled.”

With her eyes clear Beth opened them and reached up to caress Daryl’s face. “You want to finish the project? I thought you were going back to work today.”

“I’ve quit Parrish Interiors. I um…I quit my other work too…”

Beth was wide awake now. “You quit with Ophelia and the others?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be working a few days a week at Lakeshore--”

Beth cut Daryl off by pulling him into a kiss. It was sloppy and wet and happy and it made them both laugh like school kids.

“Oh, Daryl,” she said breathlessly. “You really want to try a serious relationship with me?”

He nodded. “Don’t expect too much, Beth. You’ll be the first serious relationship I’ve ever tried.”

“Same here,” she said. “We’ll grow and learn together. So, tell me,” she said, kissing him again. “When do I get all the benefits of being your girlfriend?”

“Benefits?” he questioned.

Her hand brushed lightly over his cock. “Yeah…benefits,” she said, wiggling her brows.

“When the time is right. We’ll know, believe me,” he said on a laugh.

“It feels like the right time now, if you ask me.”

“You horny beast,” he said.

“I sure am.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips, leaving her wanting much more, and got up off the bed. That was a dangerous place for him to be when he was trying to do right by a woman for the first time in his life. “Get up. We’ve got work to do, Sutton.”

“Greene,” she corrected. “My name is Elizabeth Naomi Greene. I go by Beth.”

“I still wanna call you Sutton, sometimes. My nickname.”

She sighed. “Fine, but I get to call you Father Dixon.”

“That works.”

.

By the time the sun set Daryl and Beth had the flower boxes completed. They Collapsed on the roof, too tired to stand at the edge and look out toward Glory Lake, and watched the sky darken. Clouds were trying to roll in though rain wasn’t likely. Beth wished those clouds had come in during the day to give them some relief from the sun beating down on their backs and heads. She had a sunhat but it did nothing to protect her arms and legs, which were thoroughly burned.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“We get potting soil. I’m putting trees in the corners facing the street. We’ll pick out saplings and the flowers we want later this week,” he said. He didn’t seem nearly as exhausted as Beth felt.

“If you don't mind, I think I’m just gonna lay here and die,” Beth said. “Resurrect me tomorrow morning.”

“Oh no. We’re going to our respective apartments to take cool showers and then you, my dear, are going to put something nice on. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Where?”

“The nicest restaurant in town. It’s called the Waterston House. You haven’t had steak until you’ve had one from there, trust me.”

She bit her lip for a moment and then stared him in the eye before saying, “Mmm, I’d love to have some meat in my mouth tonight.”

“Beth,” he breathed. “Stop talking dirty to me. You’re wearing down my resolve.”

“Okay. I’ll be good…for now.”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips and struggled to get up. She didn’t know where he found the energy to work all day and then go out to dinner, much less having fucked his clients all night after putting in a full day of manual labor. That life, she thought, explained those arms and his legs, at least. He had a great body. She couldn’t wait to feel it pressed against hers, and pressing into hers.

Unfortunately for Beth she hadn’t planned on going out to dinner at the nicest restaurant in town with a wealthy ex-gigolo when Michonne took her shopping. She perused her clothes and found that it was sorely lacking for such an evening. She didn’t purchase one pair of heels or a dress worthy of the town’s best eating establishment. She turned to the bed, ready to fling herself down to worry it over and come up with an excuse to go to a burger joint, when she saw a little black dress, a clutch purse, and a pair of silver heels on the bed, courtesy of Daryl Dixon.

She examined the dress clearly. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it had cost him hundreds of dollars. There was even a real pearl necklace to go with. She dressed and marveled that Daryl had gotten her size just right. Even the shoes fit perfectly. She was glad the marks from Ophelia’s attack were gone and had left no scars to be seen when she styled her hair in an elaborate bun. All that was left were the pearls, which she put on last.

Daryl arrived five minutes after she finished dressing. He looked her over from head to toe with an approving smile. “You’re beautiful.”

“You look good yourself,” she said, enjoying the gray, form fitting suit he wore.

Daryl offered Beth his arm. “Shall we, Sutton?”

“My pleasure, Father Dixon,” she answered, looping her arm through his. As they emerged from the building into the warm night air, Beth wasn’t tired anymore. She was happy, excited, feelings she’d come to believe she wouldn’t experience again for a long, long time.

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