by Shannyn Leah
Dax the Halls
Bad Boys of Willow Valley
(A Bad Boy Dax Christmas Novella)
By The Lake Series
Shannyn Leah
Copyright © 2017 by Shannyn Leah
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or transmitted by any electronic or mechanical means including information, storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Shannyn Leah
www.ShannynLeah.com
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Dax the Halls (A Bad Boy Dax Christmas Novella)
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Battle of the Bulbs
Lexcon Time Travel
Winters Rising
Single on Valentine's Day
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The Caliendo Resort: : A Small-Town Beach Romance
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Sunset Rivalry
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The CRD: Season One
Bang Bang on the 4th: Season One, Episode Nine
The CRD Series: Season One
The Davenports, Season One, Episode One
Lucy, Season One, Episode Two
Yaya, Season One, Episode Three
Ford, Season One, Episode Four
Gemma, Season One, Episode 5
Daisy, Season One, Episode Six
The Wedding, Season One, Episode Seven
Halloween Party: Season One, Episode 8
The Crazy Rich Davenports Box Set: Books 1-3
The Crazy Rich Davenports Box Set: Books 1-9
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Lakeshore Secrets
Lakeshore Legend
Lakeshore Love
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Lakeshore Lyrics
The McAdams Sisters Lakeshore Complete Boxed Set Series (Books 1-5, Boxed Set)
Watch for more at Shannyn Leah’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Shannyn Leah
Dax the Halls (A Bad Boy Dax Christmas Novella)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
DAX Excerpt - Chapter One
DAX Excerpt - Chapter Two
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Chapter One
7 Xmases ago
DAX COLYN SKIPPED up the snow-covered stairs of the old Victorian house he’d called home during his childhood years. His dad had recently converted the house into a duplex, residing on one side while renting the other side out to his eccentric, hippie neighbor Wanda. Dax didn’t have a buff with the older lady honing in on half his childhood home. As he passed now and caught her glancing out the window—her long grey hair in a mass of untamed curls that made her look younger than her actual age—he nodded at her and she rewarded him with a kind smile.
Dax had learned to ignore the painful pings of bitterness toward his dad, Rowdy, for destroying or trying to erase one of the many memories of his mother by converting the house. Or maybe he ignored such thoughts because at least now he had his dad back. After his mom’s death, his old man had gone MIA for a bit, not physically, but mentally. But for a long time now, his dad had been solid, strong...his old self. Dax never wanted to lose him again.
One thing Dax couldn’t ignore now were the footprints his black boots left in the deep snow. He wondered what had his dad so distracted that his walkway, driveway and sidewalk were all still covered in a half a foot of snow. Rowdy was a hell of an obsessively, strict, follow-the-rules, sort of man. His days not spent working at the local fire station, climbing his way up the ladder to chief, were spent either at the shop he owned with Dax, or maintaining this house—this walkway included. The snow piling up on his walkway and the fact he hadn’t been at the shop for a couple days—which had also been very unlike him—caused a bit of worry to form inside Dax.
Pulling his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket, he pushed opened the front door. Maybe his father’s change in attitude and schedule was due to the only thing that had recently changed in his life.
As Dax stepped inside the warm house and stomped the snow off his boots on the mat, his eyes did a quick scan. Sitting at the dining room table, amidst piles of old cardboard boxes which also spilled out into the open concept living room, sat that very reason: Ava Anderson. She was the quiet, anxious and pregnant woman who’d recently moved into his father’s house.
Dax nodded at Ava while sliding out of his boots and shrugging off his jacket. He’d never get used to her being in his dad’s house. Wanda living on one side of the house was one thing, but having this unfamiliar woman actually living in his dad’s house was a different situation altogether.
“Good morning.” Small talk had never been his strong point, but what choice did he have when she was sitting right in front of him?
A shy smile lifted the edges of her lips. Soft lips, full lips, lips he needed to stop noticing. Maybe that was why Dax always felt irritable around her. Just the sight of her stirred wonky feelings in him.
“Morning, Dax.” Her voice crossed the room in a tame but unsure way as she sat there with her stomach protruding under the snug, navy knit sweater. “Are you hungry?” Her eyes almost lit up for a moment, as if offering him food would erase the awkwardness that always lingered between them. She blinked the light away, sliding a platter in his direction. “Wanda brought over a tray of cranberry muffins.”
He manoeuvred around the boxes to grab one of the warm treats. He certainly couldn’t pass up the quirky and sweet neighbour’s baking. “Thanks. What’s all this?” His eyes slid to glance over all the boxes.
Ava shrugged. “I’m not sure. Your dad’s looking for a box.”
Chills ran over Dax’s skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “A box?” He tried to act casual by taking a bite of the muffin, but even he heard what sounded a lot like worry in his tone. The moist warm flavor on his tongue momentarily distracted him. Was that a hint of lemon? Damn, the old woman could bake.
Ava nodded, bringing him back to the present.
He swallowed his mouthful and cleared his throat. “What kind of box?”
She gave another shrug of her delicate shoulders. “A Christmas box. I really don’t know, but he sure was super excited this morning to find it.”
Dax’s insides clenched at the thought. The box his father was hunting for wasn’t just any old, meaningless Christmas box—it was the Christmas box. The Christmas box his father hadn’t touched sinc
e his mother had died over a decade ago. A box which no amount of searching this house would unveil.
Once again, Dax’s eyes fell upon the boxes. With one hand he flipped open a cardboard lid and a rush of memories halted all other thoughts. He’d half expected to find their old Christmas decorations, but no amount of expectation could prepare his emotions at seeing the old, hand-blown glass ornaments he’d taken extra care to hang when he’d been younger. Another one of those memories the old man had tried to erase.
He let the box lid drop, losing his appetite as his emotions felt like they were pushing up his throat and cutting off his air. He wouldn’t have felt this disconnection or guilt had his father pulled these out when he’d been a boy instead of hiding them and acting as though they were the plague.
What had gotten into his father now? Was he planning to use them. Or throw them out?
Over Dax’s dead body.
Dax started toward the basement stairs. “Old man!”
Rowdy popped out of the door before Dax reached it, a smile on his face which turned into a frown. “You’re here.”
Dax couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. “You asked me to come and get the tree. I’m not sure why you’ve dragged up everything from the basement when all your new decorations are upstairs in the guest room.” He heard his short tone, almost a growl.
“We’re going to donate the decorations upstairs and turn the guest room into a nursery.”
Dax’s fight fell. The holidays always brought out the grouch in him. Right now, as he purposely kept from looking at Ava and giving her any indication he didn’t exactly trust her, a slew of pressing questions plagued him. What was this woman’s ulterior motive? Money? His dad had money, although you wouldn’t know it since he didn’t flaunt it.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ava said from behind him.
Rowdy looked around Dax. “What else are we doing with the room?”
“Storing Christmas decorations,” Dax gritted out then took a deep breath. “Dad, why would you throw out all your new decorations?” The old man had dragged him to the local hardware store to stock up on them after Dax’s mom had died.
“Because we don’t need them. We’re going to use these ones.” This new bubbly side of his dad unsettled Dax. But it seemed familiar at the same time.
Dax’s eyes followed his dad’s swift arm movement around the room, pointing to all his childhood holiday memories. Dax felt it trigger something in him, a reminder of a time with his mother, with both parents, excited about the festive season. His parents had always over done Christmas, but after her death his dad never celebrated as much. And now, suddenly out of the blue, he was back to using the old decorations.
Dax’s eyes found Ava’s. Well, not exactly out of the blue.
Screw this. Dax wasn’t getting involved in his dad’s madness. “I’m getting the tree.” He turned toward the stairs. The faster he carried the tree down and set it up, the faster he could get the hell away from whatever was happening in here and bury his thoughts in a car waiting for some work at his shop.
He felt a strong hand on his shoulder stop him and his father’s chuckle followed. “We’re not using the artificial tree.”
He’d walked into the twilight zone with Mr Sappy and Miss Pregnant.
“We’re going to the tree farm for a live tree.” Rowdy patted his back. “Come on, both of you. Get bundled up warm with gloves, hats, scarves, socks, long johns...whatever, but we’re spending the morning there.”
Dax turned and watched Ava attempt to wiggle and push herself to her feet. His instincts almost had him offering a hand—almost. He didn’t know how far along she was—although Rowdy had told him, Dax hadn’t paid much attention. Her staying here in his dad’s house was supposed to be temporary. Clearly, with all this discussion about a nursery, they’d both forgotten that.
“I’m going to grab my boots.” When Ava disappeared into the kitchen, Dax whispered to his dad, “You’re dragging a pregnant woman tree shopping?”
Rowdy pulled his work boots on. “She’s pregnant, not dead.”
Dax rolled his eyes. “Watch your words, old man. She did just lose her family in a fire.” He didn’t know why he was the one defending her, but his father had obviously forgotten certain details in his moment of craziness. The old man was usually quicker than this.
Rowdy paused from tying his boot and Dax watched him silently scold himself before saying, “You know what I mean. I’ve seen lots of pregnant women at the tree farm.” He finished tying his laces and stood face-to-face with Dax. “Your mother went to the tree farm when she was pregnant with you.”
Dax froze at the casual mention of his mother. His shocked eyes followed his dad as he turned to grab his jacket from the hook and pull it on. His mind reeled, searching for another occasion since her death that his dad had mentioned her. He could think of none.
“Yes, that right, you were in there kicking and stirring up trouble. And back then they didn’t have the indoor restaurant or lounging area. You sucked up the cold weather.”
Dax could hardly think straight. Engines and paint jobs weren’t this complex. He patted his father’s shoulder, still unsure about what to say. “You two have fun.” He needed his hands in six-inches of oil and holding a wrench.
“Nope.” Rowdy stepped in front of his son. “You’re driving.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Dax leaned in closer. “Old man, have you completely lost your mind? We haven’t been to the tree farm since mom died?”
“I’m sorry, son. I wish I’d been stronger after your mother died.”
His father’s honesty on a topic he never discussed, threw Dax off again. So much so that, when Ava was ready, Dax didn’t object as they all piled into his truck. Driving his truck into the country with a pregnant, shy Ava in the passenger’s seat, Dax decided it must be a mixture of Ava’s presence and the holidays bringing out this new sappy side of his father.
Chapter Two
Current Day
AVA SET THE plastic tub on the hardwood floor in the front hallway with a little thud before tearing off the lid. “Hats and mitts!” she shouted at everyone gathered in the dining room helping themselves to a second or third freshly baked cranberry muffin.
Earlier, Ava had slowly drifted awake to the smell of Wanda’s early morning baking wafting up the stairs and into her bedroom. She’d stayed in bed a little longer, reaching for Dax, but he’d been gone, once again awake before her. She had settled for enjoying the smell of home while lounging beneath the warm covers. The smell was different than it had been a couple months ago when it had been bacon and eggs and the piney smell of Rowdy’s cologne. But it was still a good smell that reminded her of their new home and their new family.
That would be what Rowdy would have wanted, even if he wasn’t here now to enjoy it with them. He’d be proud his son had reconstructed the house to its original state out of love. He’d be especially proud that in the process Dax hadn’t tossed Wanda out to look for a new place to rent but, instead, had turned the staff quarters—an area nicer than the average house in Willow Valley—into Wanda’s own space while leaving the area open to the rest of the house making Dax and Ava’s house as much Wanda’s as their own.
Ava was proud of Dax.
Now, as she held the tote lid aloft, the munching crowd turned to face her and the explosion of voices made her smile. Wanda, her daughter and two of Dax’s best friends started toward Ava. Maybe this family wasn’t the traditional kind, but it was hers. A time long ago when she hadn’t thought she could live another day, no plan of a future and no one to call family, a wise man had told her that families came in all different shapes and sizes, blood or not, and were those always standing beside you. Looking around the room now, there was no question this is exactly what Ava’s family was now like.
Her daughter’s boots thumped across the hardwood floor as she ran to her, halting at the tub. “Did you
see my shop hat?” Before her daughter finished the question, Ava held up the black hat with "Colyn and Son" embroidered across the front. Her daughter’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Thanks, Mom.”
Wanda fished through the tub next and Ava wondered if anything that suit this woman’s hippie, free style. The older woman settled for a red beanie hat and plaid gloves, which sort of suited her oversized multi colored parka and wide-legged grey pants tucked into a high pair of Ugg boots.
Stone and Hawk, Dax’s best buddies, playfully shoved each other, battling to be next, just like they did on a regular basis with Dax’s affection. It was cute. Plus, they had no idea they did it and that made it even cuter. Even Hawk had grown on her these last few months. Or she’d grown on him. Two months ago he hadn’t been a fan of her.
“What’s going to make the ladies notice me?” he asked. That was exactly the reason the two of them had clashed.
Ava grabbed the hat Hawk reached for and they had a moment of tug-of-war moment over the Santa hat before Hawk finally looked at her. “You’re not picking up women today,” she said, a stern tone in her voice.
He gave her one of his best charming smiles. “It’s the holidays. Do you know how many single women will be ready to spread their legs? Especially if I wear this.” He gave the hat another tug, but Ava wouldn’t loosen her grip.
Stone punched his shoulder and hitched his thumb in Olivia’s direction. Ava’s eyes followed where he’s pointed and, thankfully, her daughter had been too busy digging through boxes of Christmas decorations to notice.
She returned her hard look to Hawk. “No hitting on women.”
“No hitting or no picking up?”
Ava’s mouth dropped open. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes, and don’t ask.” Stone grabbed a black toque and work gloves. “No picking up women.”
“Alright.” Hawk grinned and yanked the hat from Ava. “That just means exchanging contact information for later.” He shrugged. “I’m okay with that. There’s still two weeks of holidays to make up for.” He winked at Ava before he walked away, leaving her unsure if inviting him to the tree farm had been a good idea. But he was family. A pig, but still family.
