He stared at his phone, lying on his kitchen table next to the tent. He should call her now, not wait until tomorrow, the way he’d planned. He reached for the phone, paused. No, it was better to let her cool off. Stick with his original plan. Grovel tomorrow.
Should he grovel? He couldn’t stop himself from being annoyed just to please Lissa. It hadn’t helped that when she’d heard his bad news she’d airily told him not to worry about it, like his dreams were no big deal.
Which had been her way of trying to cheer him up. Dax groaned. Lissa had been nothing but sweet and helpful, and he’d blamed her for his problems. Groveling was definitely in order. Maybe some flowers, too.
His phone rang, and he sat up straight. Only to let out a gusty sigh when he saw that it was Gabe calling, not Lissa.
He answered. “Hey, Gabe. What’s up?”
A Def Leppard song pounded in the background. “You need to get down to the Pins ’N Pints,” Gabe shouted. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Uh … I’m not really in the mood for drinking. Or bowling.” The Pins ’N Pints was one of Pineville’s few hot spots for nightly entertainment. Part bowling alley, part bar, part dance club, the P ’N P brought in an eclectic mix of customers looking for a good time.
“I’m not inviting you to a dance.” Gabe huffed. “Lissa’s here. And she’s drunk. Someone needs to take care of it. I thought you’d want it to be you.”
Dax was already moving. He grabbed his keys off a nail sticking out of the wall by his front door. “I’m on my way. Watch her until I get there.”
“Roger that.”
The trip from Dax’s apartment to downtown Pineville was a fifteen-minute drive. Dax made it in ten. He rolled up onto the curb in front of the bar, parking his Jeep behind an old Caddy, and jumped out. Pushing through the front door, he scanned the interior. Lissa wasn’t up on stage with the cover band nor anywhere on the dance floor. Even through a throng of twisting bodies, she would have stood out.
He looked to his right, to the large U-shaped bar. Marla was pressed up to the counter arguing with the bartender, and Dax strode over to her.
“For the last time, top-shelf vodka does not mean Smirnoff.” She pointed at a bottle on a shelf high up above the bar. “Please remake my vodka margarita with the Grey Goose.”
The bartender rolled his eyes but stretched onto his toes for the bottle she wanted.
“Marla.” Dax leaned close so he didn’t have to shout. “Where’s Gabe and Lissa?”
She kissed his cheek. “Hi, Dax. They were down in the bowling alley until William started chasing the balls down the lanes. Lissa took him outside to the back patio.”
Dax closed his eyes. William was partying, too. Just perfect. He sighed. “Thanks.”
The bartender set Marla’s drink and a bottle of beer in front of them, and Dax picked up the longneck and took a pull.
“Hey, that’s Gabe’s.” Marla flipped the tail of her strawberry-blond braid over her shoulder, frowning.
Dax handed her the bottle. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.” Squaring his shoulders, he threaded his way through the crowd, down the small flight of steps to the bowling alley, and through the narrow hall that led to the back patio. He held the back door open for Marla, then followed her through.
The slate-tiled patio was enclosed by a six-foot wood fence. A tiki-style bar was along one wall, and cornhole and other games were placed throughout. Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, giving a soft illumination to the space. A crowd of people were hanging out by the firepit, but Dax didn’t see Lissa’s curls among them.
Gabe was outstretched on one of the loungers by a patio heater. William lay on top of him, covering Gabe like a blanket, a look of doggy bliss on his face as Gabe scratched behind his ears.
“Hmpf.” Dax planted his hands on his hips. All the dogs loved Gabe. He had some sort of voodoo power over them, which made him a great vet. Still, he wasn’t the one who’d been taking William for runs and feeding him boiled chicken and rice for dinner. How come Dax never got that goofy grin from William?
He marched over to the happy couple. “Hey. Where’s Lissa?”
William popped up, trampled over Gabe’s stomach and chest, causing the man to wheeze, and leaped at Dax. Dax squatted and rubbed the dog’s belly. Well, that was something at least.
Holding his side, Gabe swung his legs around. “She’s over by the foosball table.” He took Marla’s hand and guided her to sit between his thighs on the chair. She handed him his beer, and he took a swig. “Last I saw, she was in for about two hundred dollars to Bert.”
“And you didn’t stop her?” Frowning, Dax rolled onto his toes. Damn it, why did she have to be so short? Okay, five-six wasn’t short for a woman, but it wasn’t tall enough for him to spot through the press of bar patrons either.
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “She said she had the money to cover it. And I’m not her father. Or her boyfriend,” he said pointedly.
Marla patted his knee. “Glad to hear it.”
“Stay with Gabe and Marla,” Dax told William.
He wasn’t Lissa’s boyfriend either. He didn’t know what he was exactly. But that didn’t mean he wanted to see her get hurt. And he felt a strange sense of responsibility when it came to Lissa. “Give a woman a ride just once …” he muttered as he stalked away.
She wasn’t at the foosball table anymore. Nor at the cornhole pit. He found her at the back gate of the patio.
Crouching before a dartboard nailed to the wood.
With a lemon on her head.
Little spots danced in Dax’s vision.
The lemon started to wobble, and Lissa threw out her arms, laughing as she tried to balance it. It rolled off her head and bounced on the ground. She held up a finger. “Lemme get it up again.” Carefully getting onto all fours, she patted the ground until her hand closed over the fruit. “Got it!” she shouted in drunken triumph.
“Dude, throw right when she gets it up there.” A kid wearing a red letterman jacket nudged his friend holding the darts. “She can’t keep that thing on her head for more than three seconds.”
“All right, all right.” The darts player circled his throwing arm, like he was warming up for the damn Olympics.
Dax grabbed him by the shoulder. “You throw a dart anywhere near her and I’ll hurt you,” he said quietly.
The kid blinked. “Whoa. It’s just a friendly game.”
Dax looked at him with disgust and went for Lissa. He dropped to a squat beside her and pushed her hair out of her face. “Hi, there. Have you had enough fun yet?”
“Daxie!”
Dax grimaced. Yeah, he really wasn’t a fan of that nickname. He did, however, like the way her face lit up when she saw him, as if she’d forgiven him.
It might have just been the booze however.
“William’s waiting.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. There was a slight sparkle to her eye makeup, a detail he hadn’t noticed at Rocco’s. Makeup she’d put on for her date with him, and he’d acted like an idiot. “Let’s go home,” he said and stood, lifting Lissa up to her feet as he rose.
“Home. That’s a funny word. Hooooommmme. It feels funny on my lips.” She leaned into his side as he gripped her waist. “But I don’t have a home. No hooooommme for me.”
Dax scowled at the two guys as he half-carried Lissa past them. Assholes for taking advantage of a woman with impaired judgment. Although, knowing Lissa, she might have agreed to the stupid lemon trick sober.
The darts thrower had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. “I’m a really good darts player, man. I would have hit the lemon.”
Dax ignored that and made his way to Gabe and Marla.
“Can you follow me to my Jeep with William?” he asked Gabe. “I’ll take them both home.”
“Home, home, home, home …”<
br />
Dax didn’t know if Lissa was intentionally doing an ET impersonation, but she sounded like the little alien either way.
“Shit.” Gabe uncoiled his body from Marla’s and set down his beer. “I didn’t realize she was this bad. I’m sorry, Dax. I should have stepped in earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dax shifted his grip and tried to get Lissa to wrap her arm around his shoulder. “Like you said, you’re not her bo—babysitter.” He nodded good night to a worried-looking Marla and turned. Instead of going through the bar, he stumbled to the back gate and out to the side street. Gabe led William a step behind them.
They made it to his Jeep, and Dax settled Lissa into the passenger seat, snapping the seat belt around her. He opened the back door and William jumped in.
“Thanks again for calling.” Dax held out his hand and shook Gabe’s. “I appreciate it.”
Gabe jerked his chin at the passenger seat. “Take care of her.”
That didn’t even need a response. Dax circled the hood and climbed behind the wheel. Lissa’s soft snores and William’s panting greeted him.
With a wave to Gabe, Dax backed out of his spot and pulled a U-turn. He rolled down his window and William’s and let the cool night air ease his tension.
Everything was up in the air, and for once that was a feeling Dax didn’t like. His loan. His job if Christian got the business. He slid his gaze to the occupant of the passenger seat. And Lissa. Their days were numbered. And he didn’t know what to do about it. If he should do anything about it.
He pulled into his carport and cut the engine. “Lissa?” He jiggled her arm. “We’re here.”
“Not now,” she murmured and turned on her shoulder. “You go ’head.”
“Wait here,” he told William. Climbing from the Jeep, Dax circled around and lifted Lissa from the passenger seat.
William hopped into the front, but Dax closed the door on him. The Bluetick barked, indignant.
Dax hefted Lissa tighter to his chest and strode to his apartment. He’d come back and get William once she was settled. When he reached the door, he propped one foot against the jamb and rested Lissa on top of his leg. He reached for the keys in his pocket and unlocked the door. He ignored the lights and made his way to his bedroom in the dark.
Laying Lissa out on his comforter, he sighed. This was not the way he’d hoped to get her to bed. Shaking his head, he unbuckled her sandals and slid them off, then folded the comforter in half to cover her body.
She clutched it to her chin and rolled to her side.
Dax brushed a curl behind her ear. Stopping himself before he became some sort of creeper staring at a sleeping woman, he crept from the room and hurried outside for William. He took the dog for a quick walk and then brought him inside to figure out something to feed him.
After heating up chicken and mixing it with some kibble, Dax left William to his dinner. He puttered around his apartment, straightening it a bit before Lissa woke. He picked up a book he’d been meaning to read and headed for the sofa.
William beat him to it and leaped up on the cushions. He stretched out his frame to the maximum, hogging the whole thing.
“Fine. I’ll sit in the chair.” Dax plopped in his secondhand leather armchair. William lifted an ear at the air hissing from Dax’s bottom cushion, then wiggled deeper into the sofa.
Dax had only read the first page when a sound from his bedroom made him put down his book. He popped up and hurried to Lissa. Light from the living room wedged through the cracked door, shining on the bottom half of her face.
“Lissa?” he whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Dax?” She moaned and tossed her arm over her eyes. “What am I doing? It won’t matter to them.”
He knelt by her side and ran his hand over her bare arm. Her skin was warm and she smelled of rum and sugar. “It won’t matter to who?” And what didn’t matter? She sounded so sad, and he didn’t know if it was the drink talking or if she was truly upset. “Are you okay?”
“Iss never ’kay.” She sighed. “You’re mad at me. Morris’s mad at me. And …”
He drew her arm down. He could barely see her eyes in the dark. Just the black outline of her thick lashes surrounding a suspicious glistening. “And what, baby?”
“And …” She turned her head aside. “My parents don’t love me,” she whispered.
Dax’s chest squeezed painfully. He wanted to hunt her parents down, shake some sense into them. He was sure they loved her. Who wouldn’t? Lissa was extremely lovable. But they were too damn self-involved to make sure their daughter knew it. To prove it to her every day, the way she deserved. Whatever love they had for Lissa, it wasn’t good enough.
He wiped his thumb over her cheek, hating the wetness he found there. There was nothing he could say about her parents that wouldn’t be hollow. And he didn’t know who the hell Morris was. Yet. But there was one thing he could reassure her about.
“I’m not mad at you, Liss.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he searched for the right words. “I was mad at myself for being in a position where I wasn’t trusted. I haven’t earned this town’s trust. You were just an easy target for me to take my frustrations out on. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She sniffed. “You mean it?”
“Every word.”
She gripped his wrist. “Dax?”
“Hmm?”
“Where am I?” She sounded so confused, Dax couldn’t help but smile.
“My apartment.” He tucked her arms back under the comforter and stood. “Get some sleep. I’ll crash on the couch.” If he could get William to move his stubborn butt.
She closed her eyes and yawned. “S’okay. You can sleep here, too. Bed’s big enough.”
The bed wasn’t that big, but Dax wasn’t going to argue. “Good night, Liss.”
“’Night.”
Dax paused at the door, watching the comforter rise and fall with her easy breathing. He left the door open in case she woke again or got sick and settled back in his chair. The book no longer appealed to him, so he pulled out his phone and made a call.
“Hi, Dad,” he said when his father answered.
“Dax! It’s good to hear your voice.”
And Dax could tell he meant it. This was how parents should treat their kids. Dax didn’t care how old he got; he’d always want to know his parents were excited to talk with him. To hear about his day.
“Did you get the loan?” his dad asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Dax stared into the darkness of his bedroom. “I’ll probably find out in a couple of days.”
“Well, you know I’ll invest if you need it.”
Shaking his head, Dax huffed softly. “And you know I’m not taking your money. But that’s not why I called.”
“Oh? Is something wrong? Do you have a problem?”
Problem didn’t even begin to cover it. Dax dropped his head back on the top of the seat and stared at the ceiling. “I met a girl.”
And he didn’t know what in the hell to do about that.
Chapter 13
An ice pick stabbed into Lissa’s brain. Someone was moaning, and it took her a minute to realize it was herself. She gripped her skull between her hands and squeezed. “Oh God, kill me now.”
Four paws dug into her back and pushed.
Lissa squawked as she rolled off the bed in a tangle of padded cotton. “William,” she groaned. “You have to learn to share.” But the floor wasn’t so bad. She rested her head on the cool wood planks and willed her stomach to settle. Nope, this position wasn’t bad at all.
“Morning,” a voice much too loud and cheerful chirruped from a couple of feet away.
Lissa plugged her ears and peeled open a gummy eyelid. A blurry face surrounded by auburn hair shimmered in her vision before she shut it out. “Go ’way.”
This was where she’d die. Dax would just have to deal with the body. Maybe bury her in that pretty clearing he’d taken her to.
A tantalizing scent reached her, and she twitched her nose. Rich and nutty. Slightly buttery. She pried both eyelids open. Dax sat cross-legged before her, waving a paper cup of coffee in front of her face.
“For me?”
He nodded.
Lissa considered. She might live. If she could think of some way to get the coffee into her mouth without raising her head.
“Come on,” Dax cajoled. “Sit up and take your lumps. I’ve got something that will help with the hangover.”
“Coffee’s good,” she agreed. “But floor might be better.”
He reached behind him and brought forth a grease-stained white paper bag. He shook it. “Coffee and doughnuts. The combination of grease and sugar and coffee is a sure fix. Voodoo Donuts saved my butt a couple of times in college.”
Her stomach churned. She wasn’t so sure about the doughnut part. But the coffee did smell delicious. Just the scent was clearing her head a little.
Pushing up to her hip, she waited for her stomach to stop protesting before sitting up fully and leaning back against the bed. She took the paper cup and greedily sucked down some of the elixir.
“Did William push you out of bed?” Dax asked.
The dog rolled over at the sound of his name, stretching out all four legs to take up as much space as doggily possible, and began snoring.
She nodded.
Dax rooted in the bag and came out with a powdered sugar-covered concoction. “He got me, too,” he said around a large bite.
“No personal boundaries, that one.” Lissa cocked her head and looked at the dog sprawled on top of the sheets. If he’d kicked Dax out, that meant all three of them had been curled up together on the bed.
A vague recollection of someone spooning her from behind drifted through her memory. She hoped it had been Dax.
Forever Wild Page 13
