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zepskies · 2 months

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Take Me Home - Part 8

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: I think you guys are gonna like this chapter. 😘 (Or at least I hope so.)

Song Inspo: “Take Me Home (Country Roads)” by John Denver, and “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Elvin Bishop

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smut, of course. (Finally.)

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Part 8: Take Me Home

“You sure you don’t need anything else, hun?” Denise asked you, for the third time.

She sat beside your hospital bed and rubbed your arm. You covered her hand with yours, careful not to tug the IV line taped to the top of your hand.

“I’m fine. It’s okay,” you replied. Your aunt was fighting tears in her red-rimmed eyes, but if she started crying, then you would start crying all over again. You gave her a small smile and grabbed your cup of water instead.

Now that you were getting fluids and electrolytes pumped into you (and you’d had a big turkey and cheese sandwich), you were starting to feel better. Emily had been checked out here in the Emergency Department as well, but she had also been discharged just a few minutes ago.

She came to say goodbye to you over in your curtained off room. She was reluctant to leave you here, but you hugged her close and fought the tears in your eyes. Beau and Carla were there too, both waiting for their daughter and smiling at the scene.

“Time for you to get some rest,” you told her with a smile.

“Are they going to keep you here all night?” she asked, after pulling away from your arms. She sniffled too, wiping at her face.

“Probably not,” you said. “I think they’re just being extra.”

“Not if you hit your head hard enough,” Denise remarked. Her gaze was pointedly chiding.

The doctor thought the tenderness on the back of your head was just bruising. You didn’t seem to have a concussion. She mostly wanted to keep you because you were dehydrated, more so than Emily. That, combined with the minor head trauma, meant you were a bit too out of it for the doctor’s liking. She wanted to keep you on the IV for a while longer, as well as monitor the severity of your head injury.

You sighed. All you wanted to do was go home and take a shower, then fall face first in your bed…

Well, okay, maybe not face first. You were a bit bruised up. The nurse had also applied a salve on your wrists for the tape and rope burns.

“Well, I hope you feel better,” said Emily. You gave her one last smile, squeezing her hand. You guided her off to join her mom in the hallway.

Meanwhile, Beau approached your bed. Denise wore a certain smile, but she backed out to give you two some privacy.

You smiled up at Beau, who touched your bruised cheek tenderly. In his eyes, you saw pain, but also deeper emotions shining there. He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after he pulled away. “I need to go and get Emily settled at home, but I’ll come see you soon as I can.”

You shook your head. “It's okay, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” he said. His gaze became heavier, weighted with guilt. “For trying to take care of her through all this. I know I couldn’t. I failed both of you, and I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his hand with both of yours. Your eyes burned with emotion, but you looked up at him firmly.

“This isn’t on you,” you said. “I’m sure you did your best. She knows it, and I do too. And we’re okay.”

Beau let out a long breath. You knew he didn’t totally believe you, but he nodded and laid a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said. You smiled through your tears.

“Okay. I’m counting on that.”

That night, Beau tucked Emily into bed like she was still a little girl. She humored him, smiling in amusement while he smoothed the warm quilt over her, pulled up to her shoulders. He bent down and kissed her forehead, just like he used to do every night after story time.

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, I’ll be right down the hall,” he said. At this moment, Carla was setting up one of the two guest rooms for him. If nothing else, Avery had spared no expense on this country-style house.

“Have you checked on her yet?” Emily asked.

Beau knew she meant you. He sighed, shaking his head. He’d been preoccupied with making sure Emily got home safe, but it didn’t mean he’d forgotten about you. He just didn’t want to leave his daughter tonight.

“She tried to play it off, but he hit her pretty hard,” Emily said. She looked concerned about you, and Beau was too.

He breathed through that information with a tense nod. He was now actually grateful for Sunny Barnes, and the choice she made up on that mountainside in the woods.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Denise:

They’re keeping her overnight at the hospital.

Before Beau’s worry could start climbing, another text came in.

Nothing to worry about. Some of her levels were still low, so they just want to monitor her progress overnight and be sure she’s okay. She’ll probably get discharged in the morning.

He nodded in understanding (and with a breath of relief).

“Who’s that?” Emily asked.

“It’s Denise, says they’re gonna have to stay overnight. But it’s nothing serious,” he supplied. Then he texted back.

OK, good… I’ll come by the hospital in the morning, if that’s all right.

Denise soon replied.

Of course it is. See you tomorrow, Sheriff!

Beau pocketed his phone, just to spy his daughter’s sly smile. He felt his face warming with embarrassment.

“What?” he asked. Emily sighed and freed her arms, crossing them over the quilt.

“If you love her, you should really just tell her,” she said.

To say that shocked Beau would be an understatement. He gave a chuckle of disbelief.

“You playing matchmaker for me already?” he said.

“I have two working eyes, Dad,” she wryly replied. Beau’s lips quirked upwards, but his gaze fell with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” Emily said, laying a hand on his arm. “I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with Mom.”

He smiled. Sometimes she could be just like her mom, he reflected. In a good way.

“You’re really okay with it?” he asked. Emily raised an incredulous brow at him.

“Yeah, Dad. I like her a lot,” she said. “And not just because she was there for me through this whole thing…”

Beau’s heart began to break again, seeing the trauma in her eyes. He leaned in and gave her a warm, comforting hug. She held him back just as tight, resting her head on his shoulder.

“As long as I’m alive, I’m gonna make sure you’re safe,” he promised. “Even if I gotta follow you to the prom.”

Emily laughed through the beginnings of tears. Even if he did make through on that promise one day, she might not mind so much.

By the morning, the doctor was happier with your vitals and determined that your bruised skull was indeed minor. You were finally given the green light to get discharged from the hospital, and you couldn’t have been any more ready to go home.

Denise was flitting around your hospital room to get your stuff together. If you were honest, she was making you a bit dizzy as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, I tidied up your apartment a bit when I was getting your clothes and stuff. So you shouldn’t have to do anything when you get home, except get some rest, of course,” she said. She set your little duffel bag full of your dirty clothes from yesterday, your toiletries, and your purse.

You now wore a fresh shirt and some jeans, but despite using baby wipes to try and clean yourself, you still felt dusty and grimy, even in your hair.

“Let’s go then,” you said, about to push yourself up from your hospital bed. Denise stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Not just yet, honey,” she said. She was texting someone on her phone. You gave her a look of confusion.

“Why? You ordering room service or something?” you joked. Just then, someone’s tall frame stepped into the doorway of your room.

“Special Delivery,” said Beau. He wore a smile to go along with his familiar beige jacket, as well as a takeout bag from your favorite breakfast café, and a small bouquet of flowers.

Your eyes widened in shock, then with tears.

“What…”

“I told you I’d be back,” he teased. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

He swooped in and gave you the flowers first, along with a sweet kiss on the cheek. You sniffled, admiring the pretty reds, oranges, and yellows in the assortment. Your eyes traveled up to his handsome grin.

He bent down beside you to offer his arm. “You ready to go then?”

You were confused, but you still curled a hand around his arm, letting him help you to your feet.

“I asked Denise if I could give you a police escort home,” Beau said, his eyes dancing. “Is that all right with you?”

Your wide eyes dimmed with understanding and amusement, especially when you looked over at your aunt. She really was devious.

“That’s very all right,” you said.

“Good! I’m gonna head home, but I’ll be checking in on you later,” Denise said.

She kissed your cheek as well, and then she was gone, leaving you still holding onto Beau’s arm. He leaned over and grabbed your duffel bag along with the food. You knew you’d be breaking that open in the car.

He looked down on you with a softer smile.

“Can I finally get you out of here?” he asked.

You smiled back.

“Yeah,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, take me home.”

After getting home to a nice clean apartment (and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches eaten in the car), Beau set down your things while you went to grab a shower.

You tried to be quick but thorough in washing your hair, along with the rest of yourself.

Beau made sure dishes were put away, trash was taken out, all the little things he could think of, so you wouldn’t have to later. Then he relaxed on the couch and watched some TV while he waited for you.

He noticed that you’d replaced the coffee table with solid wood this time. The pictures had new frames.

He took note of one with your father, who was dressed in his formal uniform, with the white hat and decals that designated him as a firehouse chief. There was another of you with a group of friends. (Michael was missing from that group, Beau noted with satisfaction.) Then there was one of just you and Mary.

And on the wall was a new canvas that didn’t yet have a frame. It was an unsigned painting of a forest of yellow aspen trees, with a single road cutting through them.

“That’s the view I had when I drove into Montana for the first time,” you said. Beau switched off the TV and turned to look at you.

You were leaning on the back of the couch, next to his head. You gave him a smile, before you pushed away to come around and join him.

“You’re getting good, you know,” he said, gesturing at your artwork.

And you smelled nice, he thought, like jasmine soap and whatever shampoo you used. He noted that you’d mostly dried your hair. It was the good kind of messy, falling around your shoulders. You’d also opted for a thin sweater over your jeans. He caught the edge of something lacey peeking out of your collar.

“Thanks,” you said, a little bashful. “I’m trying. I’ve been taking lessons.”

“It shows,” he nodded. He inched closer to you, turning towards you with a bent knee resting on the cushion. You did the same. His arm rested across the back of the couch, beside your head. By now he’d taken off his jacket, so you could almost feel the warmth of his skin near your cheek.

“Anyway, how’s Emily doing?” you asked, touching his knee. “And Carla?”

He nodded with a sigh. “Em’s shaken up, but…she’ll be okay. I think she’s handling it better than her mom, to be honest.”

You could understand that, actually. Not only had Carla lost her husband, but she’d almost lost her daughter in the same night. You didn’t know how you would cope in that situation either.

“She’s a tough kid,” you said of Emily. “But Carla seems strong too.”

“She is,” Beau agreed. “They both are.”

He leaned forward and gently thumbed at the yellowing bruise just under your eye. He sighed.

“Em told me everything that happened,” he said.

You bit your lip. You tried not to let it, but a fresh wave of emotion was rising in your chest, up to your throat.

“I tried to get Buck to let her go,” you said. Your voice trembled, almost choking on your words. “I’m sorry—”

“Hey.” He caressed your cheek. He blinked past the stinging in his own eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Do you hear me?”

You sniffed as a couple tears made their way down your face. You quickly wiped them away.

“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”

“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”

It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your shining eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.

“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.

“I’m not forgiving you,” you said, “because I don’t blame you. All I wanted is what I’m getting right now. You, right here with me.”

Beau shook his head and let out a sharp breath. Then he finally closed the distance once again, meeting you with a kiss. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was passionate and claiming, and soon it was devouring. You pulled him in and tangled your fingers in his hair. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you into his lap. There you moved to straddle his hips, battling with lips and tongue all the while.

The kiss broke suddenly, letting you both catch your breath for a moment.

“Wanted do that all week,” Beau said, through panting breaths. You laughed a little, soothing your fingers through his hair. You took a comfortable seat in his lap.

“Remember how you helped put my bed together when I moved in?” you asked.

“Sure do. Nearly lost a thumb on that one,” he replied cheekily. You grinned and brushed your thumb along his lower lip.

“Well, then I think it’s only fair you help me break it in,” you said, maybe sounding more confident than you felt.

Beau smiled. Yet he still managed to surprise you; with supportive hands under your thighs, he took you with him when he stood. You yelped in surprise and clung to his shoulders. He laughed and pressed a kiss into your neck, before he carried you into the bedroom.

There he sat you down on the edge of the bed. He lowered and kneeled between your legs, letting you hold him there with his bearded face in your hands again. Your heart was full looking down at him, finding his amusement as well as his desire. It was a beautiful thing, you thought.

His hands slipped under the hem of your sweater and began inching it up. You shivered at the way his hands felt against your bare skin. You helped him pull the sweater over your head, revealing a black silk camisole underneath, edged with lace.

He hummed in appreciation and felt the silk between his fingers.

“Were you planning for this?” he asked.

“I might’ve hoped,” you said with a smile.

You then sighed at the feeling of him leaning in to kiss down your neck, and down your chest. He stopped briefly to get the camisole off, finding your red, lacy bra underneath. That was his other favorite color on you so far. His kisses led him down between your breasts as he unhooked the bra next.

You tugged at the back of his sweater, trying to get it off. He paused in his explorations to help you. By then he got impatient with kneeling. He took you with him by the hips when he straightened, letting his hands feel every exposed curve of you. You sighed against his lips, kissing him again with renewed passion.

Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, and over his slightly furry chest, down to his belt between you. You started on the buckle. The click of the metal was like a switch in his brain; he let you get as far as unbuttoning his jeans before he took over for you. After all his days of indecision, he was a bit impatient.

Most of his clothes became a haphazard pile next to most of yours on the floor. You let him guide you back onto the bed, though he was careful in cupping the back of your head when he laid you down. You might not have had a concussion, but you were still bruised and healing, in more ways than one.

Beau had you almost naked underneath him, save for your unhooked bra and panties. For a moment, he had to savor the sight of you, beautiful and laid out for him. But he found himself slowing down for a different reason. He caressed your cheek.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, I just brought you home from the hospital—”

You cut him off by hooking a hand behind his neck, and pulling him down for a heated kiss.

“Don’t make me wait anymore, Beau,” you whispered. “I need you.”

He looked down at you with a growing smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

You laughed, and the sound and brightness of it made his smile deepen. He ducked down to burn another path of wet, open-mouthed kisses down the other side of your neck.

You sighed and tilted your head, giving him access. Your hands swept across his shoulders, down the smooth planes of his back.

You hooked a thigh around his hip, bringing him flush against your center. His rising length brushed the dampness in your panties. He moaned against your skin. His kisses became sloppier down to your breasts.

You helped him peel the loose bra from your shoulders. He flung it away to parts unknown, making you giggle. He smirked in response, but soon your amusement turned to moans as his lips found one of your breasts.

His tongue swirled around the hardened bud and scraped gently with his teeth. He also palmed at the other, squeezing gently and rolling a hard nipple under his fingers.

“God, Beau…” Your voice was breathy and desperate, your fingers starting to rake through his hair and across his scalp. It made a shiver run down his spine. He wondered what it would take to have your nails scraping down his back.

You were already panting and squirming against him now, your legs gripping his waist tighter to try and find friction. He grabbed one of your thighs, just to feel the soft flesh under his hand.

“I gotcha, baby,” he said, panting hot breath between your breasts. “Gonna take care of you.”

“Please,” you whimpered. “It’s uh…been a long time.”

He nodded, glancing up at you. “Yeah, for me too.”

“Well, you’re doing great,” you said with a laugh.

He chuckled along with you. “I appreciate the encouragement.”

But this was all the encouragement he needed, he knew, as his fingers probed your wet heat through your underwear. You moaned and pressed yourself against his hand, seeking more. Part of him wanted to tease you, get you even more worked up…

Maybe next time, he thought. Right now, he didn’t have the patience. He pushed off you just long enough to take off your panties, bringing them down your legs and tossing them away in a smooth motion.

His own underwear came next before he lowered back down to you. You welcomed him with a searing kiss. You once again sunk your fingers into his hair and scraped with your nails, eliciting a sound from deep within his throat.

He held himself above you with a forearm above your head. His free hand moved down your body, caressing, squeezing your breast, then your ass.

“Need you to touch me,” you whispered against his lips.

He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t help teasing you a little.

“I am touching you.” He gave your ass another meaningful squeeze, but you just smirked and gave his a smack. It surprised him enough to make him buck against you.

“Ey!” he chuckled.

“Come on, cowboy,” you said. Your hand slipped in between you to find his hard cock resting against your thigh. He groaned and fastened his lips to your neck while your deft fingers explored him, teased him up and down the shaft, and the sensitive, already weeping head.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered. It had been a while since anyone but his own hand had touched him. Your soft hand felt heavenly as you used the wet beads of precum as lube across his velvety flesh. (And he had a feeling your mouth would be divine.)

But Beau wasn’t about to be outdone.

When you’d nearly brought him to the brink, teasing him with the twists and turns of your hand, he stopped you with a hand over yours and had to catch his breath for a moment. His forehead pressed into your shoulder. You giggled and rubbed his back with your free hand.

“Need a minute?” you teased. “I barely touched you.”

Beau shot you an amused look. “What can I say? You’ve got some talented hands.”

His lips brushed over the red, healing skin on your wrist. He moved further down to nip a biting kiss to the sensitive inside of your arm.

His beard scraped deliciously against your skin there, and then further down, as he laid kisses over your breasts, down your stomach, and finally down between your thighs. Your breathing became more labored the further down he went.

His fingers parted your folds and found your pussy wet and glistening for him. He gathered some of your wetness and brushed your clit, earning a sound of pleasure from you.

He let those sounds spur him on as he discovered what you liked and what you wanted, soon letting his long fingers find their way inside you.

Your hands clamped down on his shoulders as you writhed against him, pleading with his name, your hips beginning to undulate in time with his fingers.

He didn’t stop their motions pulsing inside you; his thumb circled insistently over your clit as well, until he felt your inner walls tighten and quiver around his hand, along with your shaking thighs. He swallowed up your keening cry with a deep kiss.

“You okay, baby?” he asked. He brushed your hair back, and it fanned out against your pillow. You panted heavily, but still managed to smile. You stroked his arm.

“Are you kidding?” you breathed. “Thought I was gonna break your damn hand.”

He smirked. “I considered that myself.”

His amusement only faded when a new realization hit him. “Aw shit. I don’t have a condom.”

He felt like a damn teenager, thinking with his dick and nothing else. Though he also hadn’t wanted to assume anything when he told Denise he would bring you home.

You shook your head and twined your arms around his neck.

“I’m on birth control…and I trust you,” you said.

Beau had a feeling that last part meant a lot of things. His smile grew, looking at you.

“Well, all right,” he said. “We’re in business then.”

“Oh, we’re in business, all right,” you replied. You giggled when he came back down to kiss you. He swept a hand along your cheek, tenderly.

If you love her, you should really just tell her.

That had been filtering in and out of his head all night and day. He couldn’t deny what that familiar swell of his heart meant every time he looked too deep into your eyes. He just wondered if it was too fast, too soon to say those words.

So in lieu of those words, he decided to show you.

He hooked your thighs around his hips and positioned himself at your entrance. After meeting your eyes and getting your breathless nod of approval, he slowly pushed inside you. Already he felt your core flutter around his cock as he brushed your clit. You both were breathing heavy again when he bottomed out with just the right amount of resistance.

“Goddamn,” he muttered. “Feel so fuckin’ good already.”

You nodded in agreement, squeezing his hips with your thighs.

“You rarin’ to go then?” you teased.

Those were his almost exact words to you, not so long ago. He’d been trying to get you to learn how to ride a horse, but he supposed there were…a few similarities here. He grinned down at you, and instead of answering, he shifted his hips, pulling out almost all the way, and pushing back in just as slowly.

A curse fell from your lips as your inner walls accommodated his girth. He gave you slow strokes to begin with, meeting your lips with a heated kiss when he could.

But once he found an angle that had you shuddering underneath him, squeezing him from the inside out, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A sheen of sweat broke out against his skin and yours as you moved together. Between moans and skin against skin, whispered encouragements, and playful goading, you felt the moment when he was close.

His movements began to stutter out of rhythm, his grip on your hip becoming almost bruising. You still needed a bit more, though you could practically taste your end; that hot coil was tightening, just not fast enough.

You slipped a hand between you to find your clit. His hand soon replaced yours though, wanting to do it himself. His deft fingers and his hard strokes brushing that sensitive spot inside finally made that coil snap. Warmth blossomed from your core and pulsed around his cock.

It had your pussy clenching on him so tight, he couldn’t help but spill into you with a ragged groan. You gasped, your back arching at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Afterwards, he relaxed onto his elbow by your head, mindful not to smother you as he caught his breath. You sank back into bed, panting yourself. You managed to reach up and sweep his hair from his eyes, then wiped some of the sweat from his brow. It brought his gaze to meet yours and find your smile.

Beau smiled back. His hand was more soothing along your thigh.

“Well,” he said. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.”

You burst out laughing. You covered your face with a hand, and it had his shoulders shaking as well.

He untangled from you and rolled onto his back. You followed him onto your side, closing your sticky thighs. You intended to ask if he wanted to join you for another shower in a bit, but for now, you wanted to savor this moment.

“Were you waiting the whole time so you could say that?” you asked.

“Nope. That was fresh. And I’m not ashamed to say, pretty proud of it,” he rejoined.

“I don’t know…” you said slyly, even as you trailed lazy fingers across his chest. Your nails dragged lightly over his skin, causing a delicious shiver to run through him. “I might need to rethink our future business transactions.”

Beau snorted and shook his head.

“All right. Let’s drop this metaphor,” he said. “I prefer to think of our time as pleasure, not business.”

He clasped your wandering hand against his chest, then raised it to his lips. It made your smile soften. You were at least half in love with this man.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

It’s our time now.

AN: 😘 Finally right?! Let me know what you thought of how they worked things out. 💗

(And thank you all so much for the birthday wishes. You guys are too good to me! 😭💓)

Next time, we have the grand finale...

Next Time:

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 9 (Finale!)

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