by J. Daniels
“Beth.” Hattie’s mouth pulls down, the lines next to her eyes softening. “You never have to repay us for being your family. We will always be here for you. Our home is yours for as long as you want it to be, you have a job at the bar until you decide otherwise, and Danny will harass any boy you bring home, free of charge.”
Hattie and I share a brief laugh as Danny finishes his tea, not disputing that last remark. I wave at them on my way out of the room. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
Closing my bedroom door behind me, I sit on the edge of the bed, phone in one hand and paper in the other. I’m nervous as hell, but I want to do this. I want to know this man, and a little nervousness isn’t going to stop me from making this phone call.
I dial the number, chewing on the pad of my thumb while I wait for the call to connect. I don’t have to wait long.
“Hello?”
I smile at the deep voice that greets me. “Hi, is this Jon Schilling?”
“Depends on who’s askin.’ If you’re selling shit, I ain’t buying.”
“Oh, no. No, I’m not selling anything. I’m . . . sorry, this is awkward.” I shift uncomfortably on the bed. Just tell him who you are. It’s the whole reason you’re calling. “My name is Beth. I believe you spoke with my Uncle Danny earlier. I’m Annie Davis’ daughter.”
I’m your daughter.
My heart starts beating wildly in my chest as his response is delayed. I bite my thumb again, move around the bed so my back is resting against the headboard, then move back to the edge. I grab the piece of paper off the bed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I have the wrong number. Is this . . .”
“Beth,” he interrupts with a kind voice. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I get those annoying telemarketer calls all damn day. How are you? How, shit, I don’t even really know what to say. Um, how . . . how have you been?”
I laugh quietly, scooting further onto the bed. “I’m good. Great, now, actually. I never thought I would speak to my dad, so, I’m really, really good.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” His low laugh rumbles against my ear, followed by a few quick coughs. “Sorry to hear about your mom. Your uncle filled me in.”
I pick at the tattered strings fraying from the bottom of my T-shirt. “Thank you. May I ask what happened between you two? My uncle mentioned something about her wanting to raise me alone. I’m just wondering why she would’ve wanted that.”
“We didn’t really get along too well. Except for that one time.” A soft tapping noise comes through the phone. “One second, Beth.”
He sniffs several times a short distance away from the phone. I tug hard at the string I’m twisting around my finger and pull it from the shirt, waiting for him to finish blowing his nose.
“Anyway, like I was saying,” he continues, sniffing a few more times and clearing his throat again. “Your mom and me, well, let’s just say we fought better than anything else. Honestly, Beth, I was only twenty-three when you were born. I wasn’t ready for all that shit yet. Your mom taking care of you was the better thing at the time. I moved a few weeks after you were born to go live with a buddy of mine. Never told your mom I was leaving. Never called her after that. If you’re looking for somebody to blame here, blame me.”
“I’m not looking for somebody to blame. I just wanted to know why she never told me about you. I asked who you were and she never would give me a name.”
“I don’t know about all that. I guess she could’ve been bitter after I left her. Maybe that’s the reason.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly.
Maybe she was worried if I knew who he was, I’d get attached and he’d leave me too. Maybe she was only protecting me.
“We can get to know each other now,” Jon suggests, cutting into my thoughts. “I only missed, what, twenty years? That’s not that bad.”
“Twenty-two,” I correct him, smiling.
“Shit.”
Laughing, I wrap another string around my finger. “How far away is Tennessee from Alabama?”
“‘Bout eight hours, I’d say. Never driven it myself, though. Can’t be positive.”
Eight hours. That’s too far to drive just for a quick, get to know you, visit. I wouldn’t want to drive to his house anyway. I don’t know him. I need to get to know him first before I make a house visit. An idea pops into my head.
“Would you be interesting in meeting halfway? Like at a place to eat or something? We can sit and talk. I’m free next weekend if you are.”
“Yeah, yeah, all right. That sounds good. We can get a bite to eat and talk in person. I like that.”
“Really?” I sit up straighter. “That’s great. Do you want to do it Saturday? I can look online and pick a spot to meet up.”
He wants to meet me. I’m going to meet my dad!
“Yeah, yeah, sounds good. You handle that and call me with the time and place,” his voice is suddenly anxious, rattled with his abrupt energy.
I smile at his excitement. “Okay, great. I guess I’ll talk to you later on this week.”
“Yeah, yeah, perfect. Sounds good. All right, yeah.”
I pull the phone away from my ear when the call disconnects, then quickly scroll through my contacts.
Wow. He might be more excited about this meet up than I am. His tone went from borderline sedated to fan girl status in five seconds. He’s eager to meet me. He wants to make up for lost time.
I’m meeting my dad. In less than a week, I’m meeting him. This is crazy.
“Hey.”
I smile at the sound of Reed’s voice. It still carries the same tone he had when he left here so suddenly. Like something’s weighing heavy on his mind.
Or, he’s just tired, Beth. That is what he said.
I don’t let my worry bother me. “Hey, I talked to my dad.”
“Oh yeah?” The sound of a machine cutting wood dulls out in the distance. “What did he say?” he asks, his voice clearer.
“He said he wanted to get to know me. We made plans to meet halfway between Alabama and Tennessee on Saturday. Get a bite to eat and talk face-to-face.”
“Really?” Reed asks harshly. “You’re going to meet up with this guy, and you know nothing about him? You think that’s a good idea?”
“He’s my dad,” I explain quietly. “And I was hoping you would come with me.” I listen to him take in a deep breath, the soft sound of Nolan’s laughter in the distance, and Ben’s deep, muted voice, most likely directed at Nolan. Sighing, I find another string and wrap it around my finger. “I don’t want to go by myself, but it’s more than that. I want it to be you with me when I meet him. I’m really nervous, Reed, and I know if you’re there, I won’t be freaking out as much. Will you go with me? Please? You and me?”
“Beth.” He says my name so softly, so gently, it’s as if he’s pressing it into my skin.
“Please?”
He exhales noisily. “Of course I’m going with you. You’re not meeting this guy alone, and I’d go fucking crazy if anyone else drove you out there to meet him.”
Grinning, I stretch out on the bed. “Thank you. I won’t keep you. I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah, I’ll be here for a while. I’ve only gotten one step done. Nolan keeps asking me shit and it’s slowing me down. He’s so damn cute about it though I have to answer him.”
“He probably loves this time he gets to have with you. You get him so excited.”
“Everything gets Nolan excited.”
“Uncle Weed! You have to see dis!”
Reed laughs quietly. “He probably found a rock or something.”
Hearing Nolan’s anxious voice, I decide not to keep Reed. “Okay, I’ll let you go.”
“All right.”
“Reed?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s no one else I would rather be with. You know that, right?” I tell him.
“I’m not just referring to the plans on Saturday,” I don’t say.
He pauses, making me wait for
his response.
After he gives it to me, I realize I would’ve waited more than nine seconds for what he tells me. Two words, that’s all, but so, so much more than just two words.
“Me too.”
Reed
CHRIST, I’M NOT READY FOR this.
I fucking should be though. It’s all I’ve thought about all week, an obsession that’s taken over every corner of my mind. I haven’t slept for shit. Work hasn’t been the distraction I’ve needed it to be. Thank God for Beth’s unreserved excitement keeping her sidetracked. She hasn’t noticed how fucking tired I look. The dark circles under my eyes, the heaviness to my steps. My worry is consuming me.
I want to be happy for her.
Fuck, I am happy for her. How can I not be?
This is Beth. My Beth. I’d do just about anything to see that unfuckingbelievable smile light up her face, and it’s been a permanent fixture all week. She can’t stop talking about her dad, what he might look like, if she resembles him in any way. She even made a list of possible questions she could ask him if they run out things to talk about. She’s so happy, so damn happy, and I want that for her. I want it more than my own happiness. Her dad is someone she should know. If they hit it off today and she chooses to pack up and leave Ruxton to go live with him in Tennessee, that’s her choice, and I won’t make her feel guilty for wanting it. I won’t put my fear of losing her before something she deserves. This isn’t about me.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about her.
Sitting in the passenger seat of my truck, wearing the same outfit she wore that day at Sal’s. Clapton, tiny denim shorts, showing off those perfect fucking legs, and the boots I’ve felt digging into my back more times than I can count. If I haven’t lived out every one of my fantasies of her wearing only those boots, I’m damn near close.
Beth picks at the polish on her thumb nail, her eyes staring blankly out the front window, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
We’re more than halfway into our trip and she’s being unusually quiet.
I don’t want her to be nervous about this. I don’t want her to worry about anything, especially not whether this man will accept her, love her. Whether he’ll want to know this amazing woman he’s missed out on for twenty-two years. If he doesn’t, if he has no interest in being her father after spending one second with her, he’s a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve to live. I won’t let anyone or anything else hurt Beth. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s been through enough. I also won’t let her sit next to me and worry herself sick over this shit.
I can worry enough for both of us. I can also hide it better. I’ve become a fucking master at it the past week.
Reaching across the bench seat, I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It’s the pressure that does it, the stress of our hands together that breaks her concentration off whatever it is she’s staring at right now.
“Come here,” I demand gruffly. This isn’t a request.
Her bottom lip, reddened from the bite of her teeth, presses against her slightly thinner top one as she thinks it over.
I tug her hand, urging her. “Beth.”
“But I have to wear my seatbelt,” she argues as her free hand unhooks the front clasp of the harness.
I look out the front window. “It’s mostly back roads from here on out. I mapped it that way. We won’t get pulled over, and I’m a damn good driver. You’re fine.” My eyes meet hers. “Slide over. I want you next to me.”
She pushes the straps of the harness off her shoulders. “Um, what am I supposed to do with that?”
I look down at the gear shift she’s eyeing up cautiously. Tilting my head, I grip her thigh and maneuver her across the seat. “Straddle it, sweetheart. I know how much you like having a big stick between your legs.”
Her cheeks lift as she hooks one leg over the gear shift. “Speaking of big sticks . . .”
“The answer is yes.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” she laughs, settling beside me.
God, I missed that sound. I don’t want her to ever be quiet with me.
“Besides,” she continues. “I doubt we have time for anything that filthy mind of yours is thinking up.”
“Beth, if it has anything to do with my big stick and you, my answer will always be yes. And fuck time. It isn’t an issue. As much as I hate to admit this, I can’t last for shit when it comes to you. My only redeeming quality is that I can work that unfairly tight pussy of yours in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds.”
Her head falls against my shoulder with a soft giggle. “Okay, noted, but I wasn’t thinking about doing anything with your big stick right now.”
“No?” I ask, sighing heavily as I glance down at my lap. “You hear that? Are you as heartbroken as I am?”
“Your penis has feelings?”
“He does, and you’ve just crushed them.”
Her lips brush against my neck. “I promise to kiss him all better later.”
I shift to a higher gear after noticing the change in the speed limit, then rest my hand on Beth’s thigh. “So, big sticks? What’s on your mind, pervert?”
“I was just thinking about last weekend. The bathroom sex romp with Ben and Mia.”
Our eyes lock as we both turn our heads at the same time. Her bold, brown ones, alight with mischief. Mine, broadened with discomfort.
I groan uncomfortably. “Please don’t mention the words sex romp, and our friend’s names in the same sentence,” I beg through a shake of my head. “As hot as you were that night, I’m still trying to forget everything I heard that didn’t come out of your mouth.”
Making eye contact with Mia has been a challenge when I’ve seen her this week. Luckily, she hasn’t seemed fazed by anything she heard in the bathroom.
Ben is a different story.
“See, that’s what I wanted to talk about. Mia made a comment about Ben’s massive . . . member,” she pauses, smiling up at me. “And I feel bad about not giving yours a shout-out. He’s massive too, and very thick. I could’ve said something about it.”
I look down at her, briefly taking my eyes off the road. “Like?”
Talk about my dick. I fucking love when you do that.
“Like,” she echoes, palming me. I groan, arching away from the seat.
“God, Beth.”
She laughs wickedly at the desperation in my voice.
Her hand. God, her hand is a menace.
“How you’re so big it almost hurts,” she whispers, slowly stroking me. “So long, and thick. You fuck me so deep, I think sometimes you’re hitting my spine. And your taste. I love the taste of your dick, Reed, especially after you’ve been inside me.”
Jesus fuck.
I press my hand against hers when she goes for my zipper. “I’m worried we won’t make it to the diner if you touch me.”
“I thought you said time isn’t an issue.”
Raising an eyebrow, I remove her hand from my lap, put my arm around her, and tuck her against my side. Her hair tickles my mouth. “It isn’t, but neither is my stamina. I’ll pull over and fuck you into next week if you whip my dick out.”
She shudders, then relaxes her body. Her nervousness forgotten as she melts against me.
I don’t know how long we drive in silence, but it’s different from before. It’s the kind of quiet I’m used to sharing with Beth. The stillness that doesn’t feel like it’s missing anything. I’m still losing my shit on the inside, wondering how I’m going to take hearing her obvious choice if things go well today, but she’s fearless next to me now.
My brave girl. So fucking brave. Does she know how amazing I think she is? Have I shown her? Told her enough?
Her head moves against my chest, and I glance down, meeting dark eyes brimming with tears.
What the . . .
My heart slams against my sternum, nearly rocking me forward. All words escape me. My fucking vocabulary reduced to a pained groan as
I look to the road to make sure I’m still on it, then back down at her.
“Why did you stop?” she asks through a soft voice.
Stop? Stop what? What the fuck was I doing besides assuming my girl was fucking content next to me?
She laughs at my confusion, which only exaggerates at the sound of her amusement. “You were humming,” she explains, running her finger below my bottom lip. “You do that when you’re quiet sometimes. Did you know? I love hearing you, Reed. Your voice might be my favorite sound.”
Humming? I was humming? And she’s ready to burst into fucking tears because I stopped?
“You’ve hummed it before. I don’t think I know that song.”
Her hand falls away from my face.
What was I humming? Something she’s heard from me before, but what?
I think back to the nights Beth has fallen asleep in my arms. When I’ve pressed my lips to the back of her neck and pulsed a melody against her skin.
Of course.
I take my hand briefly off the wheel to run it through my hair. “Yeah, I can’t get it out of my head.”
“It’s beautiful. Will you sing it to me?”
“What?”
Sing it to her? Is she serious? I’ve never sung to anyone before. I do that shit when I’m alone, or when I can be drowned out by the radio.
Her full, red lip pouts as she looks up at me. “Please? I want to hear the words so bad.”
“Your voice might be my favorite sound.”
Sighing, my head hits the seat. I can do this. It’s just singing.
Her finger traces lazy circles on my thigh, but she stops the second the words flow past my lips.
“I’m trying real hard not to shake. I’m biting my tongue, but I’m feeling alive and with every breath that I take, I feel like I’ve won. You’re my key to survival. And if it’s a hero you want, I can save you. Just stay here. Your whispers are priceless. Your breath, it is dear. So please stay near.”
I risk a glance down at her. Mouth dropped open, her eyes blazing with wonder as she stares up at me.
Well, at least she isn’t crying.
“Reed,” she murmurs, her gaze transfixed on my mouth. Her heartbeat thundering against my side. “Keep going.”