Chapter Text
The early spring sunshine poured into the kitchen, casting a golden glow across Beth’s usually fair skin. The light danced along the freckles that now painted every inch of exposed flesh peeking from beneath her loose dress. Rip couldn’t help but draw in a deep breath, anticipation curling in his gut as he thought about what he’d be doing to that bare skin later tonight.
Her hair flowed in soft waves just past her shoulders, neatly combed with flyaways tamed by a citrus-scented oil that neither of them could get enough of. The deep, fruity fragrance had him twitching already. He watched her move around their cozy kitchen, preparing pitchers of summer drinks in jugs she’d insisted on buying during one of her decorating frenzies.
“I can feel you watching me, baby,” she called over her shoulder.
A slow smirk tugged at Rip’s lips as he crossed the room in three strides, wrapping his arms around her waist and splaying his hands over every inch he could reach.
“You look amazing,” he drawled, his lips grazing the tender skin of her neck. Beth tilted her head, giving him access without hesitation.
A soft moan escaped her lips as Rip’s tongue traced the shell of her ear before trailing kisses along her neck. The summer drinks were instantly forgotten as a familiar heat bloomed between her legs.
“Baby,” she panted, breathless, gasping as Rip’s hand slipped up under her dress, fingers skimming the inside of her thigh, teasing, tempting, until she parted her legs slightly—offering what they both wanted.
“You need any help, Beth?” Monica’s voice rang out, followed by the telltale creak of the front door.
Rip yanked his hand back, grabbing a pitcher in a shaky attempt to appear casual. He strolled past Monica, unaware of the smirk Beth sent after him, unbothered as she silently let Monica in on what they’d nearly gotten up to.
Monica raised a brow as she looked at Beth, chuckling. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Mmm…nothing that can’t wait till tonight,” Beth grinned, never one to hide her love—or her desire—for her husband.
Monica, just smiled softly. She was used to Beth’s brash, unfiltered attitude now, was never surprised by anything that came out of her mouth.
Beth grabbed the second pitcher, brushing past Monica and letting her hand rest for a brief, quiet moment on the growing bump of her sister-in-law’s belly. A flash of heartbreak crossed Beth’s eyes, gone almost as quickly as it came—masked behind a bright, genuine smile.
“You keep cooking, baby,” she whispered before stepping out to join Rip and Kayce on the porch.
The sun warmed Beth’s back as she sank into her chair opposite Kayce, tipping her head back just enough to let the rays kiss her face. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes as she soaked in the moment, allowing the warmth to wash over her.
Rip watched her from the corner of his eye, a soft smile playing on his lips. She looked relaxed, free—something he’d hoped for her for years, but wasn’t sure she’d ever find. She was sprawled across the chair without a care in the world, her eyes fluttering closed beneath her glasses.
“So—boy or girl?” Beth eventually asked, flicking her hair over her shoulder and sitting up straighter. “I’m betting boy,” she added before either of them could speak.
Kayce grinned knowingly at his sister, then glanced at Monica. She gave a small nod before he answered.
“We found out yesterday.”
“And?” Beth urged, helping herself to a glass of juice, anticipation in her voice.
“We’re having a boy.”
Beth nearly choked on her drink, but quickly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Kayce. “I’m so happy for you both,” she said, holding on for a moment before falling back into her chair.
Rip stayed quiet, half-listening as Monica launched into excited talk about the baby. His focus stayed on Beth. He saw the falter in her smile, the faint flicker of pain behind her eyes as Monica spoke about first moments and milestones.
It had been a hard month.
Ever since Carter had accidentally let it slip—about the abortion—Beth had been forced to confront her most tightly held secret. That night was all tears and anguish, but they’d fallen asleep tangled in each other, Rip kissing away every tear that fell.
The days that followed were tense. Beth had pulled back, withdrawing into herself. For a while, they hardly spoke. But Rip gave her space, held her every night until one of them cracked. She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, and finally—finally—things began to heal. They’d found their rhythm again. A new one, maybe, but one filled with a joy neither had known before.
Still, Rip worried Monica’s pregnancy might shake her again. And when they’d announced it the week before, it had—just for a moment. Beth had curled inward. But Rip had pulled her back just as fast.
“I wanted to run something by you both,” Kayce said, scooting forward and taking a sip of his drink. “Got a friend on the force—Daryl. He caught a case a week ago. Man known for drug use killed his wife, then himself. Both injected. Left a little girl behind. Five years old. No family.”
Rip and Beth exchanged a glance, silent but alert.
“She’s back in the system,” Kayce continued. “Been there before. They got clean—or claimed to—so she went back. But now…” He shook his head. “Daryl asked if we’d consider fostering her. Says she’s a sweet kid. But with the baby coming…”
Beth swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
“…we just can’t. Not right now.”
She already knew what Kayce was about to ask.
“Wondered if you two might think about it. Not permanent. Just until they find a long term home. Daryl said it won’t be simple, though.”
The lump in Beth’s throat grew heavier. She took several gulps of juice, trying to keep it down, her brain spinning.
“He’s not interested in taking her?” she asked.
Kayce shook his head. “He’s got four kids of his own.”
Rip nodded slowly, unsure what to say. He could feel Beth beginning to panic beside him.
“It’s a big ask,” he said finally, voice low. “Fostering.”
Thankfully, Carter and Tate came barreling toward the porch interrupting the conversation.
“We’re hungry!” Carter called, collapsing beside Rip in a heap of gangly limbs.
“We need to go anyway,” Monica said sweetly to Tate. “Your grandpa’s making dinner.”
“Let me help with those,” Beth offered quickly, jumping up and grabbing empty cups from Monica before stepping over Rip and Carter’s legs. She needed air. Space. Anything to stop her heart from pounding out of her chest.
Rip caught Kayce’s frown but simply shrugged. Now wasn’t the time to explain that Beth was having a quiet panic attack at the mere thought of raising a child—especially after reliving the trauma of her abortion.
***
After their goodbyes, Rip sent Carter upstairs to shower and found Beth in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her waist again—this time with no heat behind it, just comfort.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
Rip sighed, kissing the soft curve of her neck, the exact spot that always made her melt.
“You know when you say that, it usually means you’re anything but.”
Beth turned in his arms, leaning into him. “How could I foster a little girl?” she whispered, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
Rip tucked her hair behind her ears, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Same way you did with Carter.”
“He’s a teenager. It’s different. I didn’t raise him, I just—”
“Taught him lessons. Gave him a home. You parent him every day, Beth. You just don’t see it.”
“It’s not the same with a girl.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mom traumatized me,” she said quietly. “And I—I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”
Rip’s heart broke, hearing that fear. He knew how deep Evelyn’s damage ran. Beth’s guilt, her hurt—they clouded everything, including how incredible she truly was.
“Darlin’, I’d never push you into anything,” he murmured. “But don’t let your mama’s voice be louder than your own. Don’t let what she did keep you from believing in yourself.”
Beth looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. Her fingers reached out to tug gently at his beard, seeking the comfort only he could give. She saw the hope in his expression—the same hope someone once gave him.
“I’ll think about it.”
***
The steam in the bathroom curled around the edges of the mirror as Beth wiped a hand across the glass, her reflection emerging through the haze. She stood in just one of Rip’s old t-shirts, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, bare legs cool against the tile. Her hair was damp from the shower, the citrus oil she’d massaged in still clinging to the air.
She leaned forward, applying a light swipe of moisturizer beneath tired eyes, trying to ignore the way her mind wouldn’t settle. The conversation from earlier tugged at her, playing on a loop she couldn’t mute.
The door creaked open and she glanced up just in time to catch Rip’s reflection behind her. He stood in the doorway shirtless, jeans slung low on his hips. His eyes landed on her with a hunger that hadn’t dimmed since this morning.
“Damn,” he muttered, stepping inside, his voice low and rough as gravel. “You walk around in my shirt and expect me to behave?”
Beth smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching despite the ache in her chest. “You never behave.”
Rip closed the distance in two strides, one hand sliding up her thigh, the other curling around her waist as he kissed her neck. Beth tilted her head, allowing the contact, letting him press slow, open-mouthed kisses against her skin, the heat of him wrapping around her like a blanket.
“You been driving me crazy all damn day,” he murmured into her neck. “Need you.”
Beth turned in his arms, her hands finding the hard planes of his chest as he kissed her—deep and needy. She kissed him back, let him lift her up onto the bathroom counter, let his hands roam with familiarity and reverence. Her legs parted instinctively, body responding even when her mind hesitated.
He pulled back, eyes searching hers as his thumb traced the edge of her jaw. “You with me?” he asked, his voice low, breath shallow.
Beth forced a smile, nodded.
But Rip saw it—how her eyes didn’t quite meet his, how her fingers trembled just slightly against his chest.
He paused. “Beth.”
She blinked, startled, but didn’t answer.
Rip rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard. His hands dropped from her thighs and came to rest gently on her hips. “Sweetheart,” he said, softer now. “You ain’t here right now.”
Beth looked away, ashamed, frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought I could… I wanted to.”
“I know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Ain’t nothing to be sorry for.”
She let out a shaky breath, the tension in her shoulders finally breaking. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about that little girl. About what it would mean. And everything with my mom, and Carter, and—” She stopped, throat tightening.
Rip cupped her face in both hands, grounding her.
“I don’t want your body if your heart ain’t in it,” he said. “I want all of you, or not at all.”
Beth nodded, pressing her forehead against his again. “You got all of me,” she whispered. “I’m just… still putting some of the pieces back together.”
Rip kissed her nose, then her forehead. “Then we take our time.”
He helped her down from the counter, pulling her in close, wrapping his arms around her like a safe place.
“C’mere,” he said, leading her back into the bedroom. “Let’s just lay down. Just hold each other.”
***
Beth jolted upright in bed, heart racing. Her skin was slick with sweat, her breath coming in short gasps. The bedroom was dark, bathed in shadows and slivers of moonlight that bled through the curtains. She sat still, trying to calm the chaos inside her chest, glancing to her right to see Rip still peacefully asleep. She sighed, relieved. The nightmares of her past at eased since telling him the truth, only waking her occasionally, only enough for her snap her eyes open and roll happily back into Rips arms, his calloused fingers grazing her spine enough to ease her back to sleep. This nightmare had her panting though, her heaving chest causing raspy gasps to slip through the tiny crack of her lips.
The dream had been fuzzy around the edges, but the feeling it left behind was sharp. Sharp enough to have her scrambling for the bedroom door, not bothering to grab a gown to keep her bare skin warm.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, words Beth knew her mother had never actually spoken, words that her mind made up in her head, twisting them so in her nightmare they left her mother’s lips. “You’ll be a bad mom Beth but even though Beth knew they weren’t real words the weight of them clung to her, deafening all sense of reality.
Beth let her self out into the porch, pulling her knees up tight as she sat on the steps, the cold of the night air sending shivers up her spine. Tears stung her eyes but she fought to hold them back, had been taught to wear pain like armor and keep her softness buried deep.
Beth had learned how to survive. But she never learned how to be gentle. Rip taught her that, yet still she doubted her ability to be a gentle mother. To care for a little girl.
And now, that felt like the one thing she needed to be.
The stars stretched wide overhead, distant and silent. The mountains mere shadows in the night.
Behind her, the floorboards creaked and Beth’s head snapped around.
“Shit,” she breathed, hand to her chest as Carter stepped into view. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Didn’t mean to,” Carter said sheepishly, hands stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie. “I heard the door. Thought something was wrong.”
Beth looked him over—tousled hair, bare feet, the worry in his eyes. He was Rip twenty something years ago, and the thought made Beths heart swell amongst the fear.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He shrugged. “Bad dream.”
Beth patted the step beside her. “Guess we’re both up then.”
He sank down next to her, mimicking her posture, elbows on his knees. The silence stretched between them, easy but full of unspoken things.
Beth stared out into the darkness, then broke the quiet. “I dreamed about my mom.”
Carter looked at her, his brows drawn. Beth never spoke of her mother and Carter knew not to ask.
“I dreamed of her voice, her judgment, the way she looked at me with disappointment in her eyes as she died, even the way she looked at me growing up… like love came with conditions. Like softness was weakness. She never taught me how to be gentle. Only how to fight.”
Carter didn’t speak, just listened. He had learnt that from Rip, especially when it came to Beth.
Beth let out a hollow laugh. “Kayce knows of a little girl that needs a home, asked us if we could take her how the hell am I supposed to be a mom when I never learned how to be… soft?”
Carter didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her for a long moment, then said, “Whether you want to admit it or not… you already are.” A hint of disappointment in his voice knowing Beth still couldn’t view herself as his mom.
Beth blinked. “What?”
He shrugged. “You act like my mom, Beth. You yell when I mess up, but you show up. You listen, even when you pretend you don’t. You buy that cereal I like even though you say it’s full of sugar.”
Interrupting him Beth spoke “It is”
“You take care of me. You… love me. Whether you meant to or not.”
Beth stared at him, her throat tight. She knew deep down she was Carters mama, but still admitting to be anyone’s mom scared her.
“You’re not perfect,” he added, giving her a lopsided grin. “But I don’t need perfect. I just need you. And you’ve done a good job, even if you don’t think so.” Carter said bowing his head. “I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes all someone needs is a chance and your pretty good at giving chances”
Beth felt her breath catch in her chest. The honesty in his voice knocked the wind out of her more than her mother’s ghost ever could.
“I appreciate it,” he said, quieter now. “Even when I don’t say it.”
She looked away, blinking quickly to chase off the tears threatening to fall. Then she reached out and tousled his hair, just enough to make him squirm.
“Damn kid,” she muttered.
Carter grinned. “Lo…v….ah mmm”
Beth smiled softly, taking Carters hand as she took in what he almost went to say. Three words she realised she had never told him. Three words she knew he deserved to hear. “I love you Carter”
After a moment, he stood and stretched. “Love you” he murmured, pausing at the door. “You coming in?”
“In a bit,” she said softly.
***
When the night air had done its job—cooled her skin, steadied her breath, softened the ache in her chest. Beth crept back into the house as quietly as she’d left it. The stairs creaked beneath her feet, the familiar sound oddly comforting in the silence.
In the bedroom, the faint glow of the moon illuminated Rip’s shape under the covers. He stirred as the mattress dipped beside him, his hand instinctively reaching for her waist like it always did.
“Where’d you go?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
Beth nestled into him, her back against his chest, her fingers finding his and tangling them together.
“Had a bad dream,” she whispered.
Rip shifted slightly, now more awake, his palm smoothing gently over her stomach beneath the nightdress she wore. “You alright?”
“I am now.”
They lay like that for a moment, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle they’d spent years assembling.
Beth took a breath. “I want to try.”
Rip lifted his head slightly, just enough to glance down at her. “Try what, baby?”
“The little girl.” Her voice was quiet but sure. “I want to give her a chance… give us a chance.”
Rip didn’t say anything at first, just held her tighter, pressing a kiss into the back of her neck.
“You sure?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
Beth nodded. “I’m scared as hell, Rip. But that little girl… she deserves more than the system. She deserves someone to fight for her. And maybe I wasn’t taught how to be soft, but I can learn.”
Rip let out a breath, the kind that carried years of emotion and a hint of relief. “You’ve got more heart than anyone I’ve ever known, Beth. That girl’s gonna be lucky to have you.”
Beth turned slightly to face him, her fingers brushing his beard. “She’ll have us.”
Rip kissed her then—slow, sure, full of everything he didn’t have the words to say. His left elbow propping him up as his right hand caressed Beth’s stomach, then slowly eased up to her breasts, kneeing the flesh before flicking her peaked nipples. He never let up his kisses, calming her mind with his touch as his fingers worked between her legs picking up from earlier that day.
***