Summary: Beau Arlen struggles with his unspoken feelings for his younger deputy, leading to a dangerous outburst that threatens their undercover operation and forces him to confront what he’s been hiding all along.
You were new to town, eager to prove yourself in a department that wasn’t exactly known for being easy on newcomers, especially women. Beau had seen plenty of rookies come and go—some with more attitude than sense—but not you.
You had grit.
That first day on the job, you handled yourself with a confidence that made even the most seasoned deputies take notice. But it wasn’t just your skill that got under his skin. It was your heart. You cared—really cared—about the people you were protecting. And that? That was a rare thing.
Beau told himself it was just admiration.
But admiration didn’t explain the way his chest tightened whenever he caught you laughing with the other officers in the bullpen. Or the way his eyes always found you across a crowded room, like some damn magnet he couldn’t shake. And it sure as hell didn’t explain the knot in his stomach when another deputy asked you out for drinks after work.
That’s when it hit him.
He wasn’t just admiring you. He was falling. Hard.
And that scared the hell out of him.
Because Beau was a lot of things, but selfish wasn’t supposed to be one of them.
You were younger—too young to be tied down to a man with more baggage than he knew what to do with. You had your whole life ahead of you, and Beau? He was just trying to make it through the day without letting his past catch up to him.
So he did what he always did.
He built walls.
Kept things professional. Kept his feelings locked up tight where they couldn’t hurt either of you. But the longer he was around you, the harder it got to pretend. And tonight?
Tonight was the night those walls finally came crashing down.
“Easy job,” he’d said. “In and out.”
You were going undercover at The Rusty Nail, a seedy dive bar on the outskirts of town, to get close to a suspected trafficker. You had spent months working this case. A human trafficking ring, slick and careful, slipping through law enforcement’s fingers every time someone got close. This was supposed to be the break—the moment you got the evidence you needed.
Your job was simple: get close to the target, get him talking, and get out.
Beau’s job? Watch your back from across the bar and wait for your signal.
Easy.
Or at least, that’s what he’d told himself before he actually had to sit there and watch some bastard put his hands on you.
Beau was tucked in the corner, blending into the shadows with his Stetson pulled low, pretending to nurse a drink while his eyes never left you.
He’d told himself he could handle this.
But he was wrong.
It started small—just an arm around your shoulders, the guy leaning in like he had a right to be close. Beau clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay put.
As he watched the guy lean in, his hand grazing your waist, flashes of the past came rushing back.
The night you stayed late at the station, poring over case files while Beau brought you coffee and tried not to stare too long at how damn beautiful you looked when you were focused.
The time you patched him up after a fight gone south, your hands gentle but firm as you whispered, “You’re not as tough as you think, Sheriff.”
And the night on patrol he caught you singing along to some old country song in his truck, your voice soft and carefree, making him forget for just a moment how much older he was.
All those moments—the little things that chipped away at his resolve—came flooding back. And now?
Now some asshole was touching you like he had a right to.
Beau’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
The guy leaned in, whispering something that made you laugh softly, his hand sliding lower until it grabbed your ass, and that’s when Beau snapped.
Beau was on his feet before he even realized he was moving.
The next second, his fist connected with the guy’s jaw, the sickening crack of bone-on-bone cutting through the bar’s noise. The suspect staggered back, crashing into a table, knocking over drinks as people gasped and scrambled out of the way.
Beau barely heard them.
His vision was red, his breath ragged as he grabbed the guy by the collar, yanking him forward.
“You like touchin’ women who don’t want your hands on them?” His voice was low, seething. “Let’s see how tough you are now.”
“Sheriff, let him go!” One of the deputies called out, but Beau barely registered it.
He was gonna put this guy through the damn floor—
“Beau!”
Your voice cut through the haze, sharp and furious.
That single word was enough to make him stop, his grip loosening as he turned to you.
And the look on your face? That hit harder than any punch he’d ever thrown.
Not relief.
Not gratitude.
Just anger.
The ride back to the station was unbearable.
You didn’t say a word, staring out the window, arms crossed tight like you were physically holding yourself together. Beau gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white, the weight of what he’d done settling like a stone in his chest.
The second he pulled into the lot, you were out of the truck, slamming the door behind you.
He jumped out of the truck, rushing behind you. “Darlin’—”
You spun to face him, eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell was that?”
Beau exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I—”
“No.” You shook your head, eyes flashing with frustration. “You punched him. Do you have any idea what you just did? We’ve been working this case for months—months, Beau—and you ruined it.”
“I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was thick with regret. “I know, I just—”
“Just what?” Your arms crossed, your stance screaming that you weren’t going to let him off easy. “What could possibly make you lose it like that?”
Beau opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
His throat was tight, his mind racing, but the words—the damn words—wouldn’t come.
How the hell was he supposed to explain something he didn’t even know how to say?
That watching you with that guy had felt like a knife twisting in his gut. That every second he had to sit there and pretend it was just a job had pushed him closer and closer to the edge.
That he wasn’t just protecting you because it was his duty.
He was protecting you because losing you?
That would destroy him.
But saying that out loud?
It felt impossible.
“Beau.” Your voice was softer now, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “I don’t…” He paused, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “I don’t know how.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice rough and unsteady. “I don’t… I don’t know how to say what I’m feelin’ without messin’ it all up.”
“Beau.”
He looked at you then, and for a split second, you saw it.
The fear.
The vulnerability he was trying so damn hard to hide.
“I’ve been tryin’ to keep my distance,” he said softly, his throat tight. “Because you deserve better than… than this.” His hand gestured vaguely to himself, like he couldn’t even put into words how broken he felt.
“You’re young. You got your whole life ahead of you. And me? I’m…” His voice trailed off, his eyes dropping like he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore. “I’m just a guy who’s been carryin’ too many regrets for too damn long.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, the silence was deafening.
“I can’t lose you,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I don’t know how to keep you either.”
And that’s when you did it.
You didn’t wait.
You didn’t give him a chance to back away.
You closed the distance, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to you.
The kiss was nothing like he expected.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative.
It was desperate.
Raw.
Like you’d been holding back just as much as he had, and now that the dam had finally broken, there was no stopping it.
Beau froze, his mind short-circuiting as your lips crashed into his. But the second his brain caught up with his heart?
He was gone.
His arms wrapped around you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger he didn’t even know he was capable of.
And when you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, your forehead resting against his?
Beau was wrecked.
Completely.
Utterly.
Wrecked.
“Do you get it now?” you whispered, your fingers still curled into his shirt like you weren’t ready to let go either.
Beau’s forehead pressed against yours, his eyes still closed as he tried to steady his breathing.
“I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out, Beau,” you murmured, your voice softer now, but full of something that made his heart ache.
“I don’t care about the age difference or your baggage.” Your fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, grounding him. “I don’t care about anything except you.”
His breath caught, his heart pounding so damn loud he was sure you could hear it.
And for once?
He didn’t run.
“I’m not gonna walk away,” he murmured, his voice rough and unsteady. “Not this time.”
Your lips brushed against his again, softer this time—like a promise.
the boy is mine - brandy & monica (dean winchester)
let yourself go - elvis presley (dean winchester)
in love with a monster - fifth harmony (dean winchester)
wise man - frank ocean (dean winchester)
fall in love - billie eilish (dean winchester)
white mustang - lana del rey (dean winchester)
i love you, i’m sorry - gracie abrams (dean winchester)
burning down - alex warren (dean winchester)
burning down - alex warren (jj maybank)
diet pepsi - addison rae (dean winchester)
not a lot, just forever - adrianne lenker (dean winchester)
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