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Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Blues and greens blur together, wrapped in a gold faux antique frame, their hues matched by the stiff chairs in the room. There’s other artworks hung here or there, usually in pairs or triplets, all muted, all perfectly curated to encourage calm and peace and safety.
But she doesn’t feel any of that. She doesn’t feel anything, really.
Beth blinks, tries to focus, but the blue and green shapes keep swirling, fuzzy and blended, and still --
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
There’s noise around her -- chattering, whispering, ringing, music. It’s muffled, though, far away, like she’s got cotton in her ears.
Her thigh itches but she doesn’t scratch it.
Annie and Ruby are both doing their best to get to the hospital, to catch her and hold her and shelter her. Ruby had apologized profusely, promised to try to get out of the overnight shift she had taken at the diner to cover Sara’s meds. Annie will be on her way shortly, coming straight from Fine N’ Frugal.
Beth had the presence of mind to call them before driving to the hospital, after dumping the kids on Judith. She hadn’t had any answers to their frenzied questions, had just hummed or shrugged and asked them to be safe, to not put themselves in any danger or any trouble just to meet her.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The only thing permeating her mind through all the fog is that damn clock on the wall to her left, the second hand jerking, flicking, reminding her that time is passing, reminding her of the fight earlier, when Dean had slammed his fist on the table, had stomped up to her, loomed over her, the old antique clock on the shelf ticking along, a silent witness --
Her phone rings, vibrating in her hand. She turns it over to see Judith’s name on the screen. Turns it back over, lets it hum against her leg.
Dean’s mother had been stoic, for the kids. Had opened the door to welcome them, a bright smile fixed in place, so familiar, so practiced that Beth had to bury her hands in her jacket pockets to keep from touching her own mouth. But Judith’s eyes had been watery and bloodshot, full of questions, full of accusations, and all Beth had in response was a bite of her lip and a goodbye kiss to each of her children.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The doors to the ER waiting room slam open, loud enough to startle her, and she glances over from where she’s hidden in a corner to see an attractive couple striding up to the line waiting at the check in station. The man is carrying what Beth assumes is his son, a sweet cherub-faced boy about the same age as Jane whose eyes are pinched close as he wails, his arms wound around the man’s neck. The woman beside him runs her fingers soothingly through the boy’s hair, her nose against the man’s shoulder as she whispers to the child, her eyebrows furrowed.
The nurse at the desk waves the family forward to the front of the line, coming around with a clipboard to take note of the boy’s ailments.
Beth turns back to the artwork in front of her. Blue flowers, petals and leaves heavy with dew, against a bright green field.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
It reminds her of one of the paintings she has hanging above their -- her -- bed, and suddenly she has the urge to drive home and rip the damn thing off the wall, to take that sledgehammer to it, defile it the way Dean had defiled their relationship. She even shoves her phone in her pocket and leans down to grab her purse, intent on doing just that, maybe purging her house of everything that reminds her of this damn place, of her damn marriage, of her damn husband.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Maybe if you had actually cared about my needs, I wouldn’t have had to go elsewhere! You wanted nothing to do with me!”
“Are you serious? You are blaming all of this on me?”
Dean had flattened his palm against his chest, patting it roughly. “I am a person, Beth. I have feelings. I wish you would remember that you are a wife, not just a mother.”
She spluttered, at a total loss for words. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“Beth--”
“No, you know what, I’m not doing this. I want you out.”
“Come on--”
She shook her head and moved around the table to the entryway. “No, Dean. Out. Now. I’m done.”
He stared at her, his mouth gaping like a fish. “Wait, that’s not--”
“Now!”
He tried to come closer, but she evaded him.
“Bethie, please, you don’t--”
“No, it’s over. I’m not doing this anymore.”
“You can’t--”
She laughed, though there was no humor to it. “Oh I can, and I am.” She pointed at the front door. “Get. Out.”
He didn’t move, at first, and then he shook his head and stalked into the foyer. “It can’t end like this, Beth. You can’t give up on us like this.”
“Dean…”
“I’m going, but when you come to your senses…”
And then he’d left -- slamming the door on his way out.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
She is a person, too! She has feelings!
But… maybe if she had just acknowledged his feelings… if she hadn’t made him leave while he was angry, or begging... maybe he wouldn’t be here right now, chest cracked open on an operating table.
It’s sudden, the suffocating tears, the way her throat clogs, the way her visions blurs. She scrubs furiously at her eyes. The guilt crawls into her ribcage and twines around each one, plucking at her until she feels like screaming.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
“You mind if I sit here?”
She hadn’t realized she’d buried her head in her hands until the voice startles her. It’s rough, rumbling, drawling. She looks up and meets the gaze of the man she’d been watching earlier. He’s tall and lean, but muscular, his biceps peaking out from short black sleeves. A sprawling bird tattoo covers his throat, the head buoyed by his adam’s apple, the wings curling up to his ears. His eyes are dark and intense, framed by thick eyebrows, and he tucks his lower lip between his teeth as he waits for her answer. She suddenly wants to scratch her fingernails through his beard, and feels like maybe she’s lost her mind.
He raises his eyebrows when she doesn’t answer him.
“I like to be outta the way a bit, in case anyone recognizes me. But I gotta be able to see the door when my mother in law gets here, and this is the best seat for that…”
Beth looks down at the seat next to her and then back up at him. Blinks. Shakes her head, then stops and blinks and nods. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”
“Thanks, ma.”
He sits, leaning back and spreading his knees so that he’s lounging comfortably.
Beth tries to ignore how good he smells.
She has finally well and truly lost her damn mind.
If he notices her staring at his knee closest to her, he doesn’t say anything. She rubs her palms against her jeans and peeks at him over her shoulder -- quickly, hopefully discreetly. She feels his little chuckle more than she hears it.
She clears her throat. “Where are your wife and son? They didn’t let you go back, too?”
He doesn’t answer at first, and she finally turns so their eyes meet.
It’s like electricity shooting from her toes up through her hips and then her spine. She thinks maybe he felt it too, when his eyes dip to her mouth and then down her body. She tries not to blush.
Fails.
“Nah, my ex wanted me to come out here and wait for her mom. Our son had a very clear preference for one of us when the nurse went to take him back.” He laughs a little, scratching at his belly. “Sure as shit wasn’t me.”
Beth finds herself nodding. “He was very cute.” At his slow smile, she sputters, “You know. Despite the crying.”
“Uh huh,” he murmurs, and it's thoughtful, contemplative. “You got any?”
She smiles softly, thinking of her own terrors, hopefully tucked into bed safe and sound and blissfully unaware of the turmoil in their parents’ lives. “Four.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, Mama. You puttin’ in the work.”
She grins at him. “You have no idea.”
“I got an inkling.” He holds out his hand. “Name’s Rio, by the way.”
She takes it, immediately warm at how his large hand swallows her dainty one. He doesn’t really shake her hand, more squeezes before releasing it -- slowly, his fingers dragging against hers. His skin is rough and calloused, and it leaves hers tingling.
“Beth,” she says, though it’s airy.
“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”
She blinks at him using her full name, but doesn’t correct him. It sounds good in his timbre.
“So, what you doin’ here?”
Her eyes dart to the clock on the wall, and she bites her lip.
“You don’t gotta answer if you don’t want to.”
Her eyes snap back to his. “Oh, it’s -- I --” She rubs her forehead. “It’s a long story, but my husband is in emergency surgery. He was shot during a mugging.”
Rio tips his head back, looking at her through his lashes, and she feels a coolness roll over him.
“That’s rough, darlin’. M'sorry to hear that.”
“Just a cherry on top of a shit day, I guess.”
“Oh yeah?”
He sounds genuinely curious, like he’d let her vent if she wanted to. She hesitates, struck by the realization that he’s a complete stranger and he owes her nothing. How could he possibly care?
“You don’t gotta tell me, but it does look like you got a lot on your shoulders.”
“That’s an understatement.”
He waits her out, watching her, letting her make a decision without any pressure, and it’s that calm, sincere concern that tips her over the edge.
She picks at a tiny ball of lint on the hem of her shirt as she says, “He’s been cheating on me. For years, I guess. Mortgaged our house three times over, maxed all our credit cards, never told me a thing. I’m a stay at home mom, I didn’t have many choices. I kicked him out and he managed to weasel his way back in… by lying about having cancer.” The words come in a rush, tumbling out of her, almost tripping over each other.
Rio mutters, “Jesus…”
Beth shakes her head. “I only found out because he got into a minor car accident. He was fine, mostly, but the doctor ended his charade. I brought him home and we had a fight. He blamed me for everything, for not wanting to touch him, for driving him into another woman’s arms…”
He scoffs.
“And then I told him to leave. And he got mugged outside the motel he went to stay at, and they shot him.” She pauses, feeling that guilt curling in her belly. “I’ve been thinking, what if I hadn’t made him leave? What if I hadn’t gotten so angry? Maybe--”
“Nah,” Rio touches her arm, pinching her sleeve. “Don’t do that. It ain’t your fault. Ain’t really his either, at least the gettin’ shot part. Asshole sounds like he deserved it though,” he grumbles.
“He didn’t…”
“You tellin’ me he didn’t deserve some karmic retribution for cheatin’ on you and lyin’ to you about having cancer so you’d let him back in your bed?”
“I… That’s not…”
Rio leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Mama, you gotta work on your self esteem. That loser don’t deserve you.”
“You don’t know me.” It’s sharp, and she glares at him.
“Not yet. But I can tell you’re interesting, and that you’re too badass for your fuckwit husband.”
Beth bites her lip, pondering his words. She’s not very interesting at all, but she’s immensely flattered that he thinks so, even if he’s wrong. And she is definitely not a badass.
As she turns to reply, there’s a strange tinny whistle, like someone trying to get another’s attention, and Rio reaches into his pocket and tugs out his phone. He curses quietly as he reads the text.
“Looks like Little Man’s appendix burst, they’re gonna take him in for surgery. I gotta…” He points to the doors that lead into the ER proper and then stands.
“Oh no, that sounds awful!”
“Yeah, sounded pretty painful. Save my seat, a’ight?”
Something soft and charged and foreign bubbles inside her when he flashes a gorgeous quick smile at her, perfect straight, white teeth bright against his brown skin and dark hair. Beth watches him stride over to the check in station, watches him talk to one of the nurses there, watches her lead him back. Watches the way he walks, full of purpose, yet lazy almost, like he knows what his body is capable of.
Which reminds her -- he had said he didn’t want to be recognized. She wonders if he’s famous, if she’s a dolt for not recognizing him herself. She takes out her phone and types out Rio, but all that comes up is articles about the city. Beth frowns, then types Rio bird neck tattoo, lets out a little gasp when the page loads and Rio’s face fills the images line at the top.
He has a friggin’ wikipedia page.
She moves her thumb to click the link and freezes.
Rio seems like a nice guy. She wants to know more about him and his life, but he did seem concerned about people seeing him, maybe approaching him. It feels…. violating to google him and learn everything about him from the internet. She’d rather find out from him.
She rolls her eyes at herself.
Like he’d care, right? It’s awfully presumptuous to think he wants to share his life history with her. He’d been kind to listen to her problems with Dean, but he was probably being just that -- kind.
Still…. He’d asked her to save his seat…
She huffs. She barely knows him, but she likes him.
Instead of clicking the link to his wikipedia, she closes the tab and stuffs her phone back in her pocket.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Beth glares at the clock on the wall.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
That loser don’t deserve you.
Rio’s eyes had been hard when he’d said it, a tinge disgusted, maybe a tad protective. Strange emotions prickle in Beth’s throat at the memory of it, of the conviction in his voice.
Deep down she knows that no one deserves to be cheated on repeatedly, to be lied to in so many terrible ways, but still that guilt clutches at her, the fear that she messed up, that she failed, that her job had been so simple and she mucked it all up -- look after Annie and Ruby, get married, make your husband happy, have babies, keep them safe…
You get what you get and you don’t get upset.
Her mother’s voice crawls up her spine, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
She always tried to keep those words in mind, tried to settle, tried to be happy for the things she did have, the safety, the family… but this feels like too much.
Her phone rings in her hand.
Annie.
“Hello?”
“Dude, I am trying as hard as I fucking can to get out of here, but this douche nozzle is trying to make me stay after closing to clean and shit,” Annie whispers. It’s muffled, like her phone is in her pocket.
“Boomer?”
“Yeah, that fuck waffle.”
Beth scrunches her nose. “Don’t insult waffles like that.”
Annie groans. “Seriously?”
“Why do you sound like that?”
Static, flickering in and out. “He wouldn’t let me take a break to call you, so I’m hiding under the register.”
“How long is he making you stay?”
“I dunno… he wouldn’t really give me an answer. And when I threatened to leave, he said he was gonna write me up for fuckin’ job abandonment. Fucking dirty weasel.”
Beth sighs. “Annie, it’s okay. I’m okay for now. Just… play nice so he lets you go home earlier, okay?”
“Beeeethhh,” Annie whines.
“I know, I know. Do it for me.”
“I’m sorry. I promise I will be nice. Er.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you heard from Ruby?”
“A bit ago. She’s still trying to find someone to come in to cover.”
“Shit, I hope she -- fuck.”
“What’s --”
“Annie-banannie! Whatcha doin’?” Boomer’s voice is faint and faraway, and Beth hears Annie scrabbling about before the line goes dead.
Beth shakes her head.
“Everythin’ cool?”
She startles, looking up to see Rio flopping down into his seat.
“Y-yeah, everything is fine.”
He nods at her phone, curious.
“Oh, that was my sister. She was going to come keep me company, but her boss is kind of a jerk and is keeping her late.”
“Damn, that’s rough.”
“Yeah.”
They watch each other for a long moment, Beth caught by those dark eyes, those long lashes. He has a heart shaped freckle on the crest of one cheekbone…
Rio licks his lips and chuckles, breaking her out of her daze.
A blush erupts across her chest and snakes up her throat.
“How is your son?” she squeaks.
He frowns. “He’s a’ight. They gave him some drugs for the pain but he was scared about goin’ under. Told him he could have all the ice cream he wanted if he was brave.”
Beth laughs. “That would do it.”
“Sure did. He made me pinky promise.”
She hesitates, just a second, before asking, “What about your ex? She didn’t want to come out to wait for her mom?”
Rio’s eyes turn molten, those devastating lashes lowering as he looks back at her, lips quirking. “Nah, I offered to.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Ain’t looking forward to seeing her, but had a little… incentive.”
Beth gapes at him, that blush now blanketing her face. Her mouth opens and closes.
“Oh.”
How profound.
A grin starts to stretch across his face, but then fades. “That okay, mama?”
She’s nodding before she even realizes it. “Of -- of course. Yes. Yeah.”
There’s that breathtaking smile of his again.
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
She has to look away -- afraid that she might do something absurd if she keeps looking at him. She busies herself with rubbing her palms nervously against her jeans.
“So… how come you don’t seem thrilled about seeing your mother in law?”
Rio groans. “Who is?”
Beth smiles. “Well…”
“Don’t tell me, you BFF’s with yours?”
She snorts. “Hell no.”
“See?”
“Alright, alright. I get your point.”
“She don’t like what I do, never did, and made sure I knew it,” he sighs. “Tried to guilt me into quittin’ when Marcus was born, got Rhea in on it.”
“What do you do?”
He raises his eyebrows at her. “You tellin’ me you didn’t google me while I was gone?”
Beth coughs. “No! No, I just -- I talked to my sister.”
He levels her with a stare that tells her he sees right through her lie.
“Okay, I might have looked you up. But I didn’t read anything. It felt… wrong.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I… wanted you to tell me yourself.”
“That right?”
Beth hums. “Yes. So. What do you do?”
Rio watches her, studying her face until he finally sucks in his lower lip and worries it with his teeth. “I box.”
“Really?”
“Well, used to. Got pretty far, too. Enough that gettin’ recognized by fans derails my whole damn day.”
“Did you stop because of your mother in law?”
“Nuh. Kept fightin’ for a year or so after Marcus was born. Stopped cause I was gettin’ too old, could feel my body startin’ to protest. Now I coach.”
“Wow. I… don’t think I have ever watched a -- a fight or a… boxing match?” she says, seeking confirmation. Rio nods, his smile affectionate. “-- in my life.”
“Never would have guessed,” he teases.
Beth rolls her eyes. “Anyway.”
Rio chortles, leaning forward to prop his chin on his palm, elbow on his knee. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
She giggles. “I don’t know about that.”
He doesn’t say anything, just watches her, those full lips curling softly at the edges. He looks like he wants to break her apart and piece her back together, like a puzzle. And maybe she’d let him, with those hands of his… rough and big and gentle…
Her eyes dart between his mouth and his eyes, and the urge to do something wildly impulsive seeps up from her belly to her throat.
“How old are you?” she asks breathlessly, to stop from making a fool out of herself.
His eyebrow quirks. “36, why?”
Beth swallows. “Oh, you have a baby face, is all.”
Rio’s eyes sparkle. “Definitely wouldn’t want to rob any cradles, huh?”
She laughs, but it splutters out of her, more like a choking sound. “Well, I mean --”
“Relax, mama. I’m just playin’ with you. How old are you?”
She smirks at him. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask a lady her age?”
He laughs, the bird at his throat fluttering. “Touche.”
“I’m 41,” she says meekly.
“Like a fine wine,” Rio murmurs, and she wonders if he meant to say it out loud.
Tension winds itself in the cradle of her hips, tight and building, so much like the anxiety from when she was sitting alone except different somehow, headier, intoxicating. She feels reckless, but tamps down, biting the inside of her cheek and digging her nails into her thighs.
“What’s your favorite food?”
The question surprises her almost as much as it surprises him -- but really, it shouldn’t. She desperately wants to know him.
“We playin’ twenty questions now?”
Beth blushes, but nods, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. Do you not want to?”
Rio’s eyes scan her face, catching on her mouth before meeting her eyes. “Got nothin’ better to do while we wait.” It’s oddly flippant, a cover.
She’s about to suggest doing something else, change the subject maybe, when he says, “Breakfast.”
“Huh?”
That affectionate smile again. “Breakfast. My favorite food.”
She gives him a look. “Breakfast is not a food, it’s a kind of meal.”
He shrugs. “Don’t care. I love all of it.”
“Anything specific?”
“Why? You gonna make it for me if I say?”
She hears the taunt twisted up with the invitation and blushes, caught. “Well I don’t know about that,” she evades.
Rio hums. “Right, right.” He lets her squirm a minute, then, “My grandmother makes these chilaquiles, should be illegal.”
“You think I would try to compete with your grandmother?”
He laughs, full and tickled. “Best not to, she’s real passionate about food.”
It feels like a challenge -- and Beth has never been good at backing down from a challenge. “Maybe she could teach me. I could make my blue ribbon winning buckles for her.”
She doesn’t realize that she has basically inserted herself into his life and his family until she looks over and finds him watching her, intense, curious. Her mouth opens, ready to back track, but he shakes his head, silencing her. His eyes turn molten, like obsidian -- hot and consuming.
“She’d probably like that. Rhea don’t cook.”
“Are you and Rhea --”
“Rio!”
They both jump at the voice, shrill above the chattering of other families and people waiting. A woman comes around the corner, short and thin but imposing, her sharp presence more than making up for her stature. It’s incredible the way Rio changes in an instant, from open and genuine and soft -- to hard and distant. He stands to meet the woman halfway, but he isn’t fast enough -- her eyes fall on Beth and she frowns.
Beth shrinks a little in her seat.
She tries not to eavesdrop, but she can’t really anyway -- they speak in terse, rapid Spanish. Rio’s body tenses with each sentence exchanged, his back and arms flexing, his hands in fists. His mother in law (ex mother in law?) is a good foot shorter than him and yet she dominates the conversation. She storms past him, done for now, and Rio follows her, his shoulders set. He touches Beth’s shoulder as he passes, mumbling, “be right back.”
He’s not gone long. When he sits again, his back is perfectly straight.
“That sounded…. Fun.” Beth watches his profile. He stares straight ahead, but grunts in reply. She hesitantly touches his knee, brushing her fingertips over the rough material of his jeans. “Hey.”
With a long sigh, Rio deflates. He slouches, spreading his legs to get comfortable, his palms sliding down his thighs to his knees. He rubs his fingers against Beth’s before she can pull her hand back.
“It like that for you?” He nods to the swinging ER doors.
Beth’s mouth quirks. “Sometimes. Sometimes it's quieter, with more veiled insults.”
His lower lip juts out in thought. “Where your kids now?”
“With my mother in law. That was an interesting conversation.”
“Couldn’t leave ‘em with your mom?” It’s a loaded question, like he already knows the answer.
“My mom is dead.”
Rio nods, absentmindedly. “Yeah.”
“Yours, too?”
“Yeah. Dad ain’t around neither.”
Beth watches him, her heart twisting. She hates that they have so much in common, in this way. Pain seeking and taking refuge in pain. In broken childhoods, and missed opportunities.
She clears her throat. “I raised my sister.” She looks away when he glances over, not wanting to see pity in his eyes, despite knowing it won’t be there. Doesn’t want to risk it, maybe doesn’t want to show him her shadows and hollows. Being vulnerable has never been her strong suit. “She’s about a decade younger than me. My dad left when she was a kid, and my mom couldn’t get out of bed, so all that was left was me. She died not long after my nephew was born.”
“She come out alright?”
Beth frowns. “Who?”
“Your sister.”
“Oh. Um…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I did my best with what I had. She’s kind of a mess. Teenage mom, shitty job, already divorced. But, uh…” She can’t stop the smile that stretches over her face. “Yeah, she came out alright. Sometimes I wish I was more like her.”
“She’s divorced, should be more like her.” It’s cheeky, and baiting, and Beth smacks his arm in retaliation, but she laughs.
“Shut up.”
Rio grabs her hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “Sounds like you did a good job, though. That’s what matters. Takin’ care of you ‘n yours.”
Beth swallows. “Yeah. Plus, that’s how I met Ruby. She made everything so much easier.”
“That’s lucky,” he says, and there’s the faintest trace of envy in the words. “My abuela raised me and my cousin. All we had was each other. She did her best, but we were pretty poor, so she worked a lot. Nick was there, though, showed me the ropes.” And this is tinged with sadness, with loss.
“Did something happen to him?”
Rio smirks, but it's bitter, not amused, a twisting of lips over teeth. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s in jail right now. Will be for a long time.”
She takes in the frown lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his fingernails dig into his knees, and doesn’t push.
“Honestly, I’m surprised Annie hasn’t been arrested, after all of the trouble she’s gotten into throughout her life.”
He rolls his head into his shoulder and looks up at her through his lashes, amused. “Yeah?”
She giggles. “Yeah. The closest she got was when her boss tried to plant drugs on her, but the guy he got them from backed out at the last second. Claimed a conflict of interest because he’s kind of friends with her.”
“Damn,” Rio mutters, overly serious. “She cap that bitch?”
Beth sputters, gaping at him. “What?”
He throws his head back and laughs so loud that Beth is startled into another giggle. Her eyes catch again on the long line of his tattooed throat, on his perfect smile, on the creases by his eyes. Her heart pounds.
“I’m just playin’, ma,” he says as his laughter tapers off. “Shoulda seen your face.”
She scowls playfully at him. “You’re hilarious.”
He scratches at his belly as he says, “Yeah, I know.” His eyes sparkle with the words; she has a feeling he enjoys goading her.
They spend the next few hours talking and laughing, and Beth feels something in her chest tightening and tightening, so close to snapping, so close to throwing herself over the edge -- what edge, she has no idea, but she feels it nonetheless. His eyes are black pools that have her wading deeper and deeper, inkiness curling around her, warming her, welcoming her, and his smile whispers secrets to her that she can’t quite understand, not yet, not yet.
At some point he leaves to see his son when he is out of surgery, but he returns not long after, smiling fondly, affectionately describing Marcus’ round, red cheeks, how the boy had hugged him as hard as he could and then smiled deviously, drowsily, and asked for his ice cream.
Beth tells him about her kids, about how Kenny seemed to get an inch taller every day, about Danny’s absolute refusal to be athletic in any way, about Emma’s perfect pirouettes, about Jane’s insistence on going without pants. She even tells him about Buddy the dog, and a little more about her marriage to Dean. Rio listens calmly, but when she describes her (soon to be ex) husband’s transgressions, she sees the flint of his eyes turn razor sharp.
He’s in the middle of telling her about his ex Rhea, about their casual turned attempt at serious relationship, the way they had crashed and burned and risen stronger as simply friends and coparents, when her phone vibrates in her lap. She almost doesn’t notice, she’s so entranced by his voice, warm velvet wrapping around each word, and the way his hands move to express himself more vibrantly. But she glances down and sees Ruby’s name on her screen.
Rio stops mid sentence and points down to it. “Go ahead, mama.”
“Hello?”
“B, I am so sorry, honey! It took a dang miracle to get someone to come in and cover me.”
“Took a fucking miracle to get Boomer to let me leave, too,” Annie says in the background.
“Annie picked me up,” Ruby says, her tone tight. Beth grins. “We’re almost there, google maps says 5.”
“I’ll come meet you guys outside.”
“Do you have any snacks?” Annie asks loudly so that Beth can hear.
“Will you please focus on the road, crazy?”
“She always has snacks in her purse!”
“Lord help me. We’ll see you soon, B.”
Beth catches Rio’s eye, biting her lip to keep from laughing when he raises his eyebrows at her, clearly able to hear Ruby and Annie’s bickering. “Okay, see you soon.”
He jumps up to his feet. “Lemme walk you out,” he says as she lowers the phone to hang up -- but she’s apparently too slow, because she hears Ruby screech, “Who was that?!” right as she taps end call.
She hides her wince as best she can, knowing she’ll get the third degree as soon as they arrive.
She follows Rio out the front doors of the ER, swinging her purse over her shoulder as he buries his hands in his pockets. His arm bumps her too many times to be an accident. She smiles to herself.
It’s quiet outside, cool and breezy, no emergencies demanding attention just yet, no one else loitering -- it feels odd being the only ones out here, private almost. Beth’s stomach flip flops, but she’s not sure if it’s from nerves or anticipation.
Or maybe she doesn’t want to say goodbye yet.
They stop in front of a bench, turning to watch one another. The wind tousles her hair a little, strands twisting and fluttering.
He steps into her space and she sucks in a breath, her eyelashes fluttering as the scent of him envelopes her -- sweat and clean linen and a spicy subtle cologne. His hand lifts to her face and he drags his pinky against her forehead, gently moving her bangs out of her face and tucking her hair behind her ear before sliding down to rub affectionately at the dimple in her chin. She trembles at the kindness and softness of the gesture, swaying a little toward him.
"Take care of yourself, be a boss bitch, yeah?"
She's nodding, but not entirely sure why -- she doesn't really hear him. She smells him, and feels him, and he's so close, and before she can stop herself, she's rocking up onto her toes and pressing her mouth to his, her fingers finding his shirt and twisting in the material to pull him just that tiny bit closer.
He makes a noise of surprise, but it sounds a little pleased too, and kisses her back.
It's not a deep kiss by any means, just a touch of their lips, tentative and sweet and OH MY FUCKING GOD SHE JUST KISSED THIS GUY SHE HAS ONLY KNOWN FOR LIKE FOUR HOURS and she's reeling back, face quickly burning scarlet, eyes wide, fighting the urge to turn tail and run.
"I can't believe I just did that! I am so sor--"
Rio chuckles, and cuts her off when he cups her face in both his palms. "Why you apologizin'?"
"I didn't -- I wasn't --"
"Stop talkin'." He pours the words into her mouth as he leans down and kisses her, holding her still and rubbing his thumbs against her cheekbones. She melts against him and kisses him back eagerly. This kiss is definitely a kiss. He slides his lips against hers, sucks at her bottom lip -- it's passionate and genuine and her toes are curling in her boots.
She's a bit dazed when they break apart, enough that she clings to him. He rubs his nose against hers.
"Knew you had that fire in you," he rumbles, and she shivers. He swipes his thumb against her lower lip. "If I give you my number, you gonna call me?"
Beth nods.
He grins. "That's my girl."
He brushes his mouth against hers a final time, the barest touch, a goodbye and a promise. Then he releases her and nods down to her pocket, where he watched her stow her phone as they left the ER. She pulls it out, unlocks it, and hands it to him, lets him type in his name and his number. She tilts her head when he doesn’t call himself like she expected him to.
She realizes with a start that he’s giving her all the power -- she can call him like she says she will, or she can leave well enough alone, knowing he doesn’t have her number to contact her himself. The whole thing will unfold on her terms.
She wants to kiss him again, but she holds back, a little embarrassed by her reaction to the gesture -- by her reaction to all of him, if she’s being honest.
Still, she can’t stop her gaze from dropping to that infuriatingly gorgeous mouth of his. It smirks. Her eyes dart back up to see his dancing.
“Good luck with your mother in law.”
Rio groans, gently pinching her side at the reminder. “Appreciate that.”
“I believe in you,” she teases.
“S’all I need, huh?” It’s genuine, and Beth flushes.
“I guess so,” she murmurs, faux lightly.
Her eyes slide over his shoulder to see Annie’s shitty little sedan peeling up the driveway and around a planter to the ER parking lot. Rio turns to see what she’s looking at, watching with her as her girls park and climb out. He grins when Annie and Ruby both freeze at the sight of him and Beth standing so close, and he chuckles when Annie suddenly starts violently smacking Ruby’s arm until Ruby shoves her away.
“Think I should be wishing you luck.”
Beth shoots him a look. He just tucks his tongue against the corner of his mouth and edges past her, knocking his shoulder against hers.It takes every ounce of willpower in her body not to watch him go.
Instead she stares grimly as Annie lopes towards her in a half run, glee etched into her face. Ruby trails behind, sighing.
“Who the hell was that?” Annie shrieks once she’s in front of Beth, hands reaching to paw at Beth’s purse, seeking snacks. Beth lets her, daring a glance over her shoulder.
But Rio’s gone.
Still, Beth smiles to herself.
“You okay, honey? Sorry it took us so long.” Ruby tugs her into a hug, muttering, “Seriously, though, who was that guy? Did he have a neck tat?”
Beth closes her eyes and sighs.
“It’s been a day.”