Dax Page 9

  She caught his hand, held onto it, eyes closed, still half-asleep, but not wanting to be alone. She didn’t have to tell him. The mattress dipped as he climbed in beside her, pulling her back against his front. She laid her head in the crook of his arm, feeling herself falling deeper asleep, but not entirely. She reached behind and brought his free arm over her body, laced her fingers in his and felt a companionship she needed…if only for just tonight.

  ~

  ANXIETY JOLTED AVA awake. There was a feeling of something missing.

  Blinking her eyes open she noticed the man curled up beside her. She momentarily dismissed her unease to appreciate his secure arm draped over her side, the wind of his breath on her shoulder, and the tangling mess of their legs under the blanket.

  He looked like a god—if a god slept—mouth slightly apart, solid facial features, and long eyelashes sweeping against his face. He no longer wore his suit jacket or tie, and his shirt had a couple buttons undone at the top and it was un-tucked around his waist. She was still fully dressed, too, which triggered her into remembering the reason he lay sleeping in her bed. She’d asked him to stay, needed him to stay, like a stray little kitten lost in a big, bad world.

  Suddenly, his arm felt like a chain of imprisonment. Since when did she need a man to be comforted? Since when did she rely on a man—or a person for that matter—to take care of her?

  The answer was easy: Rowdy. He’d made her feel safe and with safety came trust and she’d opened parts of her she never had before. But Dax? She couldn’t rely on him the way she had with Rowdy.

  She slipped out from under him and slid off the bed, her stocking feet touching the rug.

  Stopping at the door, she glanced back at him. They were a mess. They were beyond a mess. They were the aftermath of the mess which had taken years to build back up.

  She backtracked to the side of the bed and pulled the chenille blanket over the rest of him, before popping into Olivia’s bedroom and doing the same to her. At the top of the stairs, hands on the railing, her eyes traveled to Rowdy’s bedroom door. Nothing would ever be the same without him, but the years she’d had with him he’d shown her a different lifestyle. A lifestyle she could be proud to give her daughter, and for that, she’d forever be grateful.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Ava filled a kettle with water, plugged it in and set a tea bag and mug beside it. Opening the fridge, she jerked back in surprise at the masses of food containers piled high on the shelves. They’d never be able to eat all of this. Her stomach growled as if protesting the thought and she grabbed one of the covered dishes and the carton of milk.

  After the water boiled, she sat at the table with her tea and a fork. She popped open the lid of the container, happy to discover a cherry cheesecake. She grinned, knowing perfectly well only Wanda would stick a dessert in their fridge. Comfort food was more appealing than the twenty plus casseroles. She dug a fork into the sweet concoction and then into her mouth, closing her eyes as the sweetness tingled her taste buds. A little bit of sweetness was exactly what she needed right now.

  “Plan on sharing?”

  She popped an eye open at the sound of Dax’s voice. She hadn’t heard him decline the stairs of the old, quiet house, or creak across the wooden floors.

  He grinned at her. “I didn’t really peg you for a night time snack binger?” He glanced at the cake. “No plate?”

  A smile lifted the edges of her mouth. “Grab a fork and you’re welcome to join me.”

  He chuckled, sauntering to the drawer wearing a drowsy look she found impossibly sexy and hard to ignore. But not nearly as hard as keeping her eyes from drifting down to admire the way his ass looked in dress pants. There were very few times when this man didn’t wear jeans and, although he’d been a handsome devil today, she almost missed the dark denim.

  He returned with a fork and they silently ate too many bites of oozing cherry deliciousness, which equalled enough pieces to feed everyone at their Sunday barbeques.

  Dax set his fork on the table and pushed it away. “I’m going to need to hit the gym extra long now.” He chuckled before turning serious. “What are you doing up?”

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “I was sleeping fine until you left. It was my second good night’s sleep since my dad….”

  She suddenly lost her appetite, too, set her fork down, then reached her hand across the table to cover Dax’s hand. “I’m sorry.” The touch didn’t appease his discomfort like she’d thought it would. At the contact, the flecks of grey in his eyes darkened with heat and desire. His jaw tightened.

  She retracted, but he caught her hand, lacing his fingers between hers and holding her hand up between them. “Don’t run from me. When you’re done hurting and think you can walk in this world without my support, don’t cut me off.”

  She let out a small breath and looked away. “You make it sound as if I’ve been using you today.”

  He caught her chin with his other hand and forced her to look at his reassuring features. “No.” He slightly moved his head from side to side. “We needed each other to get through today. Hell, maybe we still will tomorrow or a week from now. But when you can stand on your own, when the world isn’t scary, when a smile is easy, I don’t want you to cut me off. I don’t want you to leave. As today proves, my dad was right when he said we’re good together.”

  Her eyes drifted to their hands, loving how they flawlessly locked together with a sense of completion, but knowing this wasn’t who he was.

  She didn’t want to look up at him, and wished she’d stayed in bed curled up beside him a little longer. Finally, she looked up. “We did make a good team today. Rowdy would be proud we set aside our differences to survive the hardest day in our lives.”

  She felt his thumb design circles on her skin while she watched emotion, worry and confusion rush through his eyes and tighten the features of his tired face. He was a mess of emotions as if all his safety walls had buckled around him, leaving him vulnerable, expressing feelings he’d normally tucked away. “Ava, last night, you weren’t some rash decision that I made while drunk and missing my father.”

  “That’s exactly what it was.”

  “Maybe that’s what I fooled myself into believing last night. Maybe that’s even what you believed. But deep down there was something different. I knew being with you wasn’t just about sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex was great.” His face transformed with his charming smile and sparkling eyes. “The sex was as phenomenal as I knew it would be, but that’s only because there’s a deeper connection between us.”

  She’d been mistaken, his walls hadn’t buckled, they’d collapsed, and by the sounds of his admissions, the rubble had knocked him on the head a few times.

  She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “We don’t need to make more of last night than what it was: sex,” she said. “We were both hurting, missing someone we both loved and we just happened to be the perfect outlet for each other to de-stress.” She tried her hardest to give him a sincere smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not expecting anything from you except the friendship we’ve always shared.”

  His free hand reached over and touched the side of her face. Soft at first, a light stroke. She leaned into it before catching herself and moving away.

  He chuckled. “From the very first time Dad introduced us, there was something about you I couldn’t put my finger on—or I didn’t want to. Feelings, I suppose, a gut reaction I ignored because I didn’t want to believe I had a weakness for love.”

  Love? The one tiny word knocked the wind right out of her, leaving her open-mouthed, staring at him.

  “I labeled it lust, desire, or a teacher-student fantasy.” He grinned, but she didn’t. “I spent the last seven years trying to convince myself that was all I felt between us. I believed it, too. But not my dad. He saw right through what we wouldn’t admit. I didn’t plan to ever be ready to face that every time I see your smile, hear y
our laugh, or watch your kindness with Olivia and Dad, I fall more in love with you.”

  Ava gasped, his words echoing in her ears. “I can’t do this right now.” She tugged her hand to freedom and stood so quickly the chair toppled over backwards. He began to stand, but she held her hand out to him. “No. If you stand or touch me, or give me an ounce of comfort, I will not have the strength to say no.”

  He stood. “Don’t say no.”

  She stepped back and felt her hands shaking. “You’re not in any state to make proclamations, especially to me. This is your grief talking. You’re scared and your world has just shifted in a way you can’t comprehend or even want to deal with. But latching onto me, something familiar, isn’t the answer. You know I’m leaving.”

  One of his hands clutched the back of the kitchen chair and his compassion quickly switched to defense. “Don’t you think that’s a rash decision to make in your state?”

  “Rash? What do you think I’m going to do? Live in a house that belongs to you for the rest of my life? Like I’m in your debt? And don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not a call girl. You can’t come and go as you please. Sleep in my bed one night and in another the next.”

  His lips thinned. “I really think there’s only one way to take that.”

  “I’m laying it out like it is, Dax.”

  “Half this house belongs to Olivia.”

  She stilled. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know Dad’s will. This house belongs to me and Olivia.” Why would Rowdy do that? “There’s me laying it out for you. You’re not leaving, so get that thought out of your head and stop using it as an excuse to run.”

  Ava rubbed the area between her eyebrows, hardly able to comprehend his words, believing her lack of awareness was playing tricks on her ears. “You’re joking right? Or mistaken.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe Rowdy yelled it at you, as a threat, when he was angry.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “To punish you for whatever you made him angry about in the first place!” she shouted at him.

  He remained calm, which only fueled her anger. “Ava, it’s not bad. It’s not a threat to me for Olivia to own some of my dad’s possessions.”

  “Possessions? Plural? What do you mean? Is there more? Don’t tell me there’s more.”

  “His shares of the shop were left to Olivia, too. That’s a half/half ownership between me and your daughter. One day she might be thrilled to own the shop, or maybe she’ll want to sell it to me and venture off on her own destiny, but that will be her decision to make.”

  She could only gape at him, mouth wide open, her world once again shifting. Only this time, it felt right, like it was shifting in the right direction. But she’d never let him know that.

  “The shop is yours. You’ve worked hard for your business. Olivia can’t take half your shop.”

  “My dad also worked hard and he can give his shares to whomever he wants.”

  “They should go to you.”

  Dax stepped toward her and she took two steps back. “I want her to have them. To own half this house. To stay here. Both of you.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  She didn’t doubt he had.

  “How do you not know you two are family? Family to my dad and family to me.”

  “We will always be your family, Dax, always. But there is a huge difference between randomly popping in for a barbeque in the backyard and revolving your entire life around the kind of family you’re thinking.”

  “I know the damn difference,” he snarled.

  She took a step toward him, digging up all the courage she could muster and giving him a sincere smile.

  Of course he knew the difference, but he didn’t comprehend the entirety of a world he’d never been a part of. “How long has it been since you’ve had another woman in the loft before me? A month? Or two…or just last weekend?”

  His eyes intensified, but she hadn’t said it to anger him.

  “And how long before her had there been another woman?” She touched his chest to soften what she knew was hard to hear. “Thank you for feeling a need to protect me, whether for your father’s sake or your own, but I am a grown woman. Although you’ve been amazing support today, and I can never thank you enough, I can take care of myself. I can take care of Olivia. We will be alright and I welcome your random barbeque pop-ins, but don’t feel obligated to do more. We’re not your responsibility.” She patted his chest and stepped around him, commanding her feet not to run straight to her bedroom and lock the door.

  She had only made it to the stairs before Dax spoke. “I’m sorry I took you to the loft and made you feel less than the worth you are.” His heartfelt tone stopped her. “I can’t deny that you know my lifestyle almost inside out, but be assured that you were not just another woman in my bed. You’re the woman.”

  The woman. She doubted very much that he even understood the definition.

  “I will give you four weeks to do what you think you need to do, but then I’m coming to claim you.”

  She spun around. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What am I? Your prized animal?”

  “No, Ava.” The floor creaked under his step, his presence encircling them closer together. “You’re my future.” His hand slid a trail of desire down her arms. “I wonder if Dad left everything to Olivia simply because he knew you can’t sell any of it until she’s of age to decide on her own. As if he knew you might run.” His whisper warmed her skin. “Or was it his way of keeping us together because we’re both too stubborn to see what is right in front of our eyes.” If the will really did say what he said it did, it sure sounded like Rowdy meddling. “Four weeks, Ava.” He kissed the top of her head before turning away. “I’ll sleep on the couch for the rest of the night.”

  Damn, the sentiment was sweet, but the man was insane.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ~

  DAX AWOKE EARLY THE NEXT morning. He had officially labeled himself an “old man” after the dips and busted springs left his body with strains of discomfort as he stood and stretched.

  Waking up in his dad’s house reassured him that life would go on, just like it had for his dad. Only Dax wasn’t going to bury the memories of his dad or drown in his loss. He would spring forward with his father’s memory close to his heart and would take Ava and Olivia with him.

  But not today. He’d given Ava four weeks; a random number he’d pulled out of thin air. He’d pulled a lot of the shit last night out of thin air. He’d never be able to repeat everything he’d told Ava last night. Half asleep, missing the comfort of her tucked beside him and fearing she still planned to leave, made him say things he hadn’t even known he’d felt, or understood, until that moment.

  Now, certain of his future, he’d didn’t want to spare another second without her. Even last night he would’ve preferred to snuggle back into her bed with her. But he understood her reluctance. His past track record with women couldn’t support his claims, but his actions from here forth would.

  Quietly, he gathered his belongings and stepped outside into the pitch black early morning. He decided, for the first time since his dad’s death, he’d hit the beach and run.

  Stopping at his condo first, he swapped his now wrinkled suit for running attire and his eager feet jogged to the shoreline. He ran long and hard. His legs pumped quicker as the sorrow of his father’s passing hit him. He fit the emotions into the necessary places to keep his mind away from the chaos of unsorted emotions.

  He wouldn’t bow down to his anguished grief and let those feelings override him into the same pit of despair that his dad had done after his mother died. Not today. Not ever.

  Less than a week ago, he’d almost given into that very idea. He’d sat at Buck’s Bar, day and night, contemplating how to deal with the loss of his father and his future without him. He’d considered throwi
ng in the towel and choosing alcohol as a permanent solution to drown his pain. What was left without his dad? They’d built the shop together and Dax had become a volunteer firefighter, too, following in his dad’s footsteps. His dad would never be at those places again and Dax thought there would be nothing left for him in this life.

  Then Ava had walked into Buck’s and he’d seen his future standing there.

  However, once again, he’d rejected the idea at first, not accustomed to accepting a lifestyle of settling down, family, or letting a woman have control over his emotions. Like he’d told Ava, it was possible he’d slept with her that night to escape the sadness bubbling within, but he knew better now. Deep down, he’d always known better.

  His run shot positive endorphins through his system. When he got home, he showered and dressed for a day at the shop.

  The sun was rising when he parked his truck and climbed out. He felt different today. There was a mixture of sadness and absolution. As he unlocked the door of the shop he now co-owned with a child, he let the content absolution override the lingering sadness. There would be no meltdowns today. No drinking, or wallowing. Only positive preparation for the next steps in his life: proving to Ava they were destined to be together.

  Hawk and Stone didn’t notice him as he approached, both men deep in conversation.

  “He didn’t show up at Buck’s last night,” Hawk said.

  “That’s probably a good thing. He doesn’t need to drown in the bottle. Dude, you were around for Rowdy. You know how that ended.”

  “You think playing house with Ava is better for him? He needs to get laid and remember what it feels like to have legs wrapped around him.”

  “I think if you met a woman like Ava you’d understand there’s more to a woman than a sex tool.” Stone paused and his eyebrows drew together before continuing. “If you met any other woman except for one at Buck’s you might get a better idea.”