by Sarah Gay
“You’re doing great!” she complimented him when she noticed him scrunch his lips in concentration.
He sighed out. “Thanks for trying, but I’ve seen people Latin dance and that is not what I’m doing.”
“Of course it is. You just need to dress the part and go to a real dance club to feel it in here.” She tapped his chest.
His respirations quickened. “I do feel it in here.” He covered her hand over his heart.
She experienced a circuit overload and would have fainted, had it not been for the ruckus coming from the garage.
Abi and Stone clomped into the room, stripping off soppy layers of clothing.
Stone froze when he and Julia locked eyes. “Sorry.” He held his hands up in the air then shook his head and laughed. “Dude, what are you wearing?”
Dax’s face flushed but he squared his stance. “And you almost got a delicious breakfast. I’d take you down right now, but I don’t want to break anything in Julia’s house.”
The romantic music suddenly didn’t fit the mood. “Computer, stop music.” Julia grabbed the bottom of the polka dot apron and pulled it up, attempting to lift it off him, but she couldn’t get it over his shoulders. She let out an amused cry as he dipped down into a squat to assist her in lifting it off him. Before she managed to get the apron completely up, he pulled it back over the two of them and planted a wet kiss on her.
“What’re you doing?” she giggled out but made no attempt to detangle her lips from his.
“Shhh,” he said between kisses. “No one can see us.”
“Of course we can see you.” Stone’s voice was cold.
“And we can hear you.” Abi’s voice was much sweeter. “And I wasn’t rude. Do I get your delicious breakfast? I’m starving after that climb and all the diners are closed.”
Dax planted one more kiss on her before lifting the apron up off them. “I’ll get you two some grub, but if I get dirty, Stone’s taking my pants to the cleaners.”
Julia found it intriguing how Dax’s grammar and pitch altered when talking to Stone versus her. “So, do you guys ever really try to take each other down?”
Dax raised an eyebrow at Stone as if asking him if he wanted to throw down. “We have our go from time to time.”
Stone slowly shook his head from side to side as he let out a low whistle. “No one messes with Dax.”
Julia found it cute how one minute they gave each other grief and the next minute they talked each other up. “Why is that?” she questioned.
“Dax used to compete in the martial arts and wrestling. He’s put every one of us down at one time or another.”
Julia looked to Dax, who merely shrugged, but she could tell he enjoyed this way too much.
Stone took his plate from Dax and held it up to his nose. “I’m just saying that so Dax won’t do anything to my food.”
Dax’s eyes brightened as if he had just thought of a clever idea and punched Stone in the solar plexus, nearly causing him to drop his plate.
“Just kidding.” Stone coughed out with a wide grin.
That was the first time Julia had ever witnessed Stone joke and smile in such a relaxed manner. Stone had been sad for years, having lost his wife and baby in a car accident. Abi had warmed his soul.
Stone sat at the counter, then gobbled his food down in three hurried bites.
Julia patted Stone on the shoulder. “Doesn’t take you guys long to eat at the fire station?”
Stone looked up at her like a kindergartener who had just been caught stealing his friend’s juice box.
Dax loaded Stone’s plate up with a second helping. “We never know when we’ll have to run out to answer an emergency call.”
“What if you’re in the middle of cooking?” Abi questioned.
“The stoves are hooked to the sirens. The gas automatically cuts when we get a call.” His jaw flexed. “Every second counts when someone is in cardiac arrest.”
Horrific memories played in Dax’s mind, Julia sensed it. She had a sudden urge to cradle his head into her breast and hold him tight, but that would probably be misinterpreted by everyone in the room.
Stone finished his second helping in record speed. “I can take you to get your car now.”
Julia felt a pang in her stomach. The thought of Dax leaving caused her to have a cramp in her side. “No. I’ll give him a ride to thank him for breakfast.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but it came out too fast.
All heads whipped in her direction simultaneously. With the looks they gave her, she might as well have rubbed his head into her chest.
“I’ll go get dressed.” She walked away from the silence. She hated silence. “Computer, play Eye of the Tiger.” She looked back and smiled as their heads bobbed to the beat. She danced down the hall, silly happy.
6
The late morning sun poured into the Subaru, warming the right side of Dax’s face. With sunny skies and dry roads, he wasn’t as anxious in Julia’s passenger seat as he had been last night. Contemplating the notion that in a few minutes he would be out of her car with no promise of another encounter, he suddenly loved being her passenger. He needed to make sure he could see her again soon, later today if possible.
“Can I see your phone?” he questioned.
“Sure.” She glanced over at him before returning her eyes back to the road. “Oh. Sorry. Is your phone dead? I should have given you a charger.”
He continued to wait patiently for a few minutes, but they had almost reached their destination. “Is your phone in your purse?” he questioned, looking down at the candy apple red purse between them.
“Yeah.” She shook her head as if suddenly aware she had a man sitting next to her. “Go ahead and grab it. I tend to zone out and concentrate on the road while I’m driving, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He reached into her purse and pulled out a new phone in a sparkly gold case. “Bling bling,” he said with amusement.
She gave him a sideways glace. He took it as a warning.
Time for a compliment. “You’re smart to concentrate on the road. I deal with nasty accidents all the time. Parley’s is the deadliest canyon in Utah.” He held the phone out to her. “Would you mind?”
She quickly placed her thumb over the button to unlock it before returning her right hand to the wheel. Dax proceeded to go into her contacts, add in his information, then call his number. When he heard his phone give a little chirp, he ended the call and slid her phone back into her purse.
“Did you just add yourself to my contacts?” Her tone was accusatory, but her smile told him she was glad he had.
“Isn’t that what you asked me to do when we got into the car?” He rubbed his chin. “Because that’s what I heard.”
“Clever.” She raised an eyebrow.
At least she didn’t think he was dumb.
They pulled up to an open lot with about fifteen dilapidated cars and trucks parked askew on the property. Dax released a breath of relief when he saw his truck parked next to a trailer, which, based on the rusty red tricycle and the faded butterfly flag hanging on a post next to the door, it also doubled as a home. He suddenly felt extremely overdressed. If he were dressed for his sushi job, or to start his shift at the fire station, then he might have been able to talk this guy down. With how he was dressed now, he didn’t stand a chance.
“You don’t have to wait,” Dax said, opening his door.
“It’s okay.” She batted her lashes. “I’d hate to see you stranded again.”
“Thanks.” He ran up to the trailer door and gave it a few hard knocks.
The door swung open to a burly woman. “You want your truck?” she said in an annoyed voice.
A crazy thought crossed his mind. Perhaps she had a hope that one day someone would show up offering to take a pile of rust off her hands. “Yes.”
“That’s three fifty.” She held her open palm out.
Dax nearly tumbled off the cracked wooden step. “Did you say thre
e hundred and fifty dollars?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “The fee’s double, seeing as how we got a call on a holiday and you’re picking up on a holiday.”
“Someone called you?” Now Dax was really confused.
The woman put a hand on her waist. “Pineapple’s silk stocking, the one with the raspy voice, said Pineapple wanted that truck gone in fifteen minutes or he wouldn’t use us anymore.”
Dax had never known Pineapple to have a girlfriend. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed her his Visa.
“We only take debit or cash,” she said, pushing her fingers out in front of her as if examining a new set of nails, her voice void of emotion.
A hot rush of embarrassment flowed through his body. Pineapple had his debit card.
He recoiled as the woman took a strong hold of his bicep. Would she pummel him with those meaty hands? He looked down at the pink fingers wrapped around his arm. The nails were tipped with shimmery snowflakes. Dax had never been punched by a woman before. He didn’t think he could return her hit if she did. He expected to see anger in her eyes, but she ogled him instead. An unanticipated fire flickered across her stony black eyes.
She purred, “I may have something inside you could do for me to work it off.”
As if on cue, Julia appeared at Dax’s side with a card in hand. “That won’t be necessary.”
Dax wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed that this woman had made an advance at him or that Julia had saved him from her clutches.
“Fine,” the woman puffed out. She reached into her bra, pulled a cell phone out, and swiped Julia’s card in the phone attachment.
A few seconds later, she thrust her phone at Julia. Julia hesitated, looked down at her own fingers as if they were about to touch a live, hairy spider, then quickly swirled her finger across the screen. Julia shivered out something that resembled anger as the woman held Dax’s keys in the air then shoved them into his chest. Dax gave the ominous woman a bewildered look before following Julia back to her car.
Julia stood at her driver’s door and paused.
Dax reached down and opened her door for her before she could protest. “I’ll get you—”
“I know you’re good for it.” She nodded with a smile. “Besides, I know where to find you.”
“How did you know what I was going to say? I could have said, ‘I’ll get you a guard dog to protect your house.’”
“Not possible.” She wiggled her nose. “Allergic.”
“There are plenty of hypoallergenic dogs.”
“Let’s stick to the self-defense lesson.” She tapped her steering wheel and adjusted her rearview mirror. “Your house at seven?”
Did Julia just invite herself over to his house? That was another rule; he didn’t bring his dates home. Too intimate. Too complicated. Although, he had offered to cook for Julia and the others at his house. This was no different than the hibachi dinner he’d offered. It was a lesson, not a real date. “Yeah,” he said with enthusiasm, leaning inside the open door.
She reached up and lightly pressed her lips to his before settling back into her seat. He had a sudden urge to lean down and kiss her again and again. But maybe she kissed all her guy friends like that. He hated the thought.
“No,” she said.
A sharp pain split his side. “No?” He may as well have been sucker punched in the kidney. “You don’t want to come over tonight?”
“Not that.” She winked at him. “To answer the question bouncing around in your head—no, my kisses aren’t freely given.”
He guessed her heart wasn’t either, but relished the instant relief trickling over him. “How did you know?”
“I can read your mind.” Her eyebrows shot up as if tempting him to spill his thoughts to her.
He scoffed. No way did she possess some strange power. But she did, and he knew it. She was gaining control of his heart—and that couldn’t happen. “Oh yeah?” he said like a taunting child. “What am I thinking now?” He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. How infantile he’d become.
“You’re wondering how in the world you’re going to live without me for eight hours.”
He couldn’t help but focus on her moist lips as she spoke. His mouth gaped open at her insight and continued to remain open as she winked at him again before slowly slipping out of the lot.
Telepathy. The girl had skills.
Julia parked her car in Dax’s driveway and cut the engine. She typically parked on the street in front of the homes she visited, but the snowbanks on either side of the road reached nearly four feet high and two feet wide, narrowing the space and visibility. Not to mention, it bent in front of Dax’s house at a forty-five-degree angle. Treacherous.
She tapped her thigh with her thumb to calm her nerves as she leaned down and peered out her windshield at Dax’s home. With a steep A-line frame and sided with gray rustic planks, it resembled an enchanted winter cabin that belonged in a storybook. Peppery smoke billowed out the chimney.
She shouldn’t be nervous. She had already done something that scared her today. She’d asked Dax if he would entertain her at his house. He had hesitated at first, which didn’t help her current nerve situation.
A rappity tap banged her driver’s window. Julia jumped, causing her thighs to slam into the steering wheel. Her heart pounded in her ears as her eyes flew to the window. Dax wore a grin of satisfaction, his face nearly touching the glass. She took in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. She rolled down her window and cocked an eyebrow. “Proud of yourself, are you?”
He took a step back, his arms piled with firewood. “I’m sorry.” But he didn’t appear sorry. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The scent of cedar and pine engulfed her car. “You just split all of those?” She pointed to the wood with her eyes.
“Maybe. Or, they could have been sitting in my shed for three years.” He shook his head. “You’ll never know.”
“I do know. That was more of a statement than a question. They may have sat in your shed for three years, but you just split them. I’m clairvoyant. Remember?”
He narrowed his eyes and twisted his lips as if he were giving her notion a shot of credence.
She allowed a playful smile to dance in her eyes. She could have told him that it was the strong scent of freshly sawed wood that instantly gave it away, or the saw dust on his jeans. He looked nice in a suit, but sweet sassafras, he looked amazing in those fitted jeans.
“Here.” She jumped out of the car and held her arms out. “Give me some wood. That pile looks heavier than me.”
“Nah.” He shook his head as they began walking toward his house. “When I’m all suited up for a fire, I’m packing an extra hundred pounds, easy. Then the real work begins. This is nothing.”
Dax’s house was small and simple, yet functional and chic. Crisscrossed with enormous timbers, the floor plan was ninety-nine percent open. The only component not visible was the toilet. The main level held the kitchen, an office corner with a drafter’s desk, an exercise corner with a treadmill and free weights that faced a large window, a sitting area in front of a wood fireplace that spanned an entire wall, and a music corner with a black, baby grand piano. A steep ladder ascended to the loft where, if Julia stood at the opposite end of the house, she could see a king-sized bed, open closet area, a shower encased in glass and stone, and clawfoot tub; the entire area was framed in windows and skylights.
Dax dumped the firewood in an iron-grated bin next to the fireplace. “Want to go up and have a look?” He motioned to the loft. “It’s your turn for the grand tour.”
Julia swallowed hard. “No, I can make out here.”
He shot her a toothy grin that said I’m in, his eyes hopeful. “Make out?”
She could kick herself. “I can make it out from here,” she corrected with a nervous laugh. “Can you imagine if I mixed up my words like that in court? I try to be more eloquent.” She sighed. “I have to be. No ro
om for error when someone’s freedom is at stake.”
“Have a seat.” He pointed to the leather couch facing the crackling fire. “I’ll get us some drinks. What would you like?”
“I’m good with water.”
“Okay, but I’m also making Italian sodas. Do you like cherry or blue raspberry more?”
“Yum. Blue raspberry.” She wiggled into the couch, enjoying how the worn leather seat cupped her bottom and back. “It doesn’t contain red food coloring.”
“You don’t eat anything with red food coloring?” He looked at her as if she’d just stepped off a spaceship.
“I feel gross after, so I avoid it.”
He nodded as he pulled the syrups from the kitchen cabinet under the counter but didn’t say anything.
“Do you find that eccentric?”
“No. I think it’s great you care about your health,” he said, pouring a healthy portion of blue syrup into a glass. “Now let’s talk safety.”
“Safety?”
“Your personal safety. Abi mentioned something about you carrying around peppercorns?” He pursed his lips into a thin line.
She took it as an attempt to keep him from saying something critical. “I understand your skepticism.” She removed her black leather, bomber jacket, placed it on the back of the couch, and pulled a plastic bag from its pocket. “These are called pink peppercorns, and they pack a punch.”
“I’ve tried those in Peru. Their trees are native to the Andes.” He walked over and took the bag from her, pulling on his earlobe with his free hand. “That’s the trip where we lost Blue, our fearless leader.”
“You lost Blue in Peru?” She stifled a laugh.
The silly rhyme didn’t entertain him the same way it did her.
“In a manner of speaking.” The muscles in his jaw worked as if he were chewing on a tough piece of meat, with no flavor.
