After the last jolt of pulsing climax claimed him he released his flesh and braced his hands on the shower tile as he caught his breath. He was still recovering, returning to the here and now when he heard ferocious barking.
Unlike other dogs, Capone had only one bark and it was the same when he was overly excited or in guard dog mode. Since there was nothing for his bulldog to get that happy about, Dax was sure there was something wrong. A familiar calm that came with the flood of adrenaline rushed through him now as he shut the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist.
He stalked down the hall and his six-foot-four frame allowed him to eat up the distance to the front door where Cap was posted and now howling.
“Quiet,” he spoke in a low tone and Cap let out a small whine before sitting down and looking up at Dax.
Leaning forward he fully expected to see someone working the lock, trying to break into his house. He was more than prepared to handle an intruder. What he wasn’t prepared for was who was actually there.
Standing on his porch was the woman that had haunted his dreams, infiltrated his mind and drove him to the brink of insanity. He shut his eyes and opened them again thinking this must be a mirage; that he was still living in his fantasy. When he opened them again she was still standing on his porch bundled up in a jacket, scarf and gloves. She bit her bottom lip between her teeth as her weight shifted from one foot to the other.
On autopilot, he reached for the doorknob, turned it and opened it.
Before it was even cracked a few inches Capone was up in the air, jumping with excitement.
Dax watched as the woman that he’d dreamed of day and night, the woman that had left him with only a note, bent down and caught the white mass of excitement in her arms and that’s when he noticed a single suitcase sitting beside her.
She giggled and kissed Cap on his head as he wiggled and covered her face in licks. “Hello, Mr. Capone, did you miss me? I missed you. I missed you so much!”
“Ginny.” His voice held a gravelly quality as he said her name, needing to hear it out loud to make this real.
Her blue eyes, previously hidden beneath a bed of dark lashes, lifted to his. When their eyes met, a small, tentative smile pulled at her lips as she said, “Hi, I missed you too.”
Chapter 2
Did I say that out loud?
Ginny prayed that all she’d said aloud was “Hi.”
Please, please, please let that have been my inside voice I heard.
No. Not possible.
There is no way that I just said that I missed Dax, too. Right?
She waited for Dax to say something, anything, but so far the only thing out of his mouth was her name. Not that she was complaining. She could listen to him say her name on repeat for…well, for a long time and not get tired of hearing it. Especially when it held the extra rasp that it just had.
She couldn’t believe that she was actually here, in Harper’s Crossing, on Dax’s porch. And not only was Dax standing in front of her in the flesh, there was quite a lot of flesh showing and it was wet to boot. Her eyes were still locked on his, but on their way up to meet them she’d seen several droplets of water running down the hard planes of his naked chest. Her first instinct had been to lick them off his skin like ice cream that melted down the side of a cone. Thankfully, unlike her uncertainty of whether or not she’d said that she missed him out loud, she knew for a fact that there had been no licking. Her tongue was safely inside the confines of her mouth.
As much as she wanted to drop her gaze and stare at his body like he was a piece of art displayed at a museum, she knew that she couldn’t. So, she kept her stare laser focused on his eyes. Not that that was a hardship. His eyes were a light-medium brown, but not just your average, run-of-the-mill brown. Dax’s eyes were multi-colored. They were rimmed with a dark espresso color and inside they were a lighter caramel color with gold flecks scattered throughout. They were the kind of eyes that every time you looked into them you saw something new.
Right now those eyes were looking down at her like he was seeing a ghost, an aberration. He stared at her in disbelief with a heat and intensity that she felt all the way to her toes. When she’d stepped out of her car into the frigid, January-in-Illinois day she’d instantly caught a chill. Even with a jacket, scarf and gloves, the twenty-degree weather had her teeth chattering before she reached the front door.
All of her life, she’d gotten cold faster and stayed cold longer than anyone else she knew. It was a running joke with her band. They teased her that her fingers were like icicles and they loved to say that if there was even the slightest breeze she needed a parka to stay warm. Waiting on the porch had caused her body temperature to drop significantly. But now, the fire behind Dax’s golden gaze warmed her from the inside out.
She lost herself in the tingling feeling of her body being thawed internally and then heated to the point that she felt flushed. She was so captivated, so entranced by the prickly sensation running through her that she wasn’t paying attention when Capone decided to jump on her again. One second she was crouched down rubbing the bulldog’s head, hypnotized by the connection she felt in Dax’s stare, the next she was on her back with fifty pounds of pure love sprawled out on her chest as a very slobbery tongue made quick work of covering her face with enthusiastic kisses.
Her eyes automatically shut at the onslaught of wet licks, but before she knew it, Dax had yanked Capone off of her and instructed him to sit. Then, his arm quickly snaked around her back and he pulled her up on her feet.
She was brought upright with such speed and velocity that she was propelled forward from the momentum and instinctually her arms reached out and landed on a wall of muscle. When she opened her eyes, she noted immediately that her thin fingers and fair skin looked so delicate and small compared to his broad, tan, Adonis-like chest. She felt the pulsating rhythm of his heartbeat pounding beneath her palm. The sensation and the view combined to create one of the most intimate moments of her life.
Which, at twenty-two years old, was a sad truth and one of the many things she planned on changing during the next four weeks. It was one of her New Year’s resolutions.
“I’m so sorry, he’s usually much better behaved.” Dax’s voice was just as deep and gravelly as she remembered.
When he spoke, she could feel the vibration of the words against her palms and fingers. The reverberation sent a tremble running up her arms and down her spine. Dax’s arm was still wrapped around her waist and his fingers tightened on her lower back. His grasp caused another sensation—no less potent than the first—to erupt low, very low, in her belly.
“You’re cold. Come inside.”
Cold…right. She was cold.
Let’s go with that.
He shifted so that she could step past him and he didn’t drop his hand from her back until she was inside. From behind her she could hear the click of the door shutting and her nerves that she’d thought she’d managed to contain started to pop like grease in a hot frying pan.
There was an underlying tension in Dax’s voice as he said, “Sorry I didn’t invite you in sooner. I was just…surprised to see you.”
As she turned to face him she was holding out hope that her being here was a good surprise and not a bad one. Her suitcase was beside him, so she took that as a good sign. But the blank expression on his face made him unreadable which in turn increased the intensity of her nerves from grease in a frying pan to spraying like a popped fire hydrant.
“Um, I should have called, I’m sorry.” She dipped her chin motioning her head in the direction of the towel that was hanging at his waist. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…I mean…you look like you were…you look…” Hot.
No she couldn’t say that.
Breaking eye contact, her eyes dropped down, and she could feel saliva filling her mouth as she took in the girth of his broad shoulders, the planes and valleys of his washboard abs and the symmetrical lines of his hips that were o
nly partially covered by white terrycloth. If she let her eyes go any further she’d be in trouble, so she forced herself to look back up. Her voice cracked as she continued, “It looks like you were busy.”
He glanced down then shook his head slightly. “Right, I was just in the shower. Let me go put on some clothes.”
She nodded. As much as she wanted to tell him not to do that on her account, she knew that there was a much better chance of her actually being able to hold a conversation if she wasn’t distracted by his very distracting nakedness.
“Cap.” He let a low whistle.
Capone, who was sitting beside Ginny like the good dog he was, whined and lowered down so his belly was on the floor and his legs were spread out in front and back of him.
Ginny once again crouched down, this time removing her gloves, so she could better scratch the white bulldog’s head. “Aww, he wants to stay with me.”
Dax mumbled something beneath his breath that sounded a lot like, “I don’t blame him,” but she couldn’t be sure.
Her eyes shot up in search of confirmation that he had said those flattering words. She didn’t get it. Instead she found him looking at her like he still couldn’t believe that she was here. Like she was either a figment of his imagination or a hologram or something.
She knew it was odd that she’d just shown up on his doorstep after they had spent only one night together and had gone months without so much as a text. But she couldn’t stop thinking about him and that night, though, she was sure for Dax it had been a run of the mill experience. His reception had not given her any hope that his offer, which she’d been trying to convince herself was real, still stood. In fact, she was starting to think that he may not even remember offering her a place to stay when she came back to town to work on her album. Which meant she was going to have to either awkwardly remind him of it or abort her mission.
“He can stay out here, with me.” She tried to sound as casual as possible and hoped to buy herself a little more time. Maybe a few minutes alone with Capone would calm her nerves.
Dax hesitated for a moment before he said, “I’ll just be a minute.”
Ginny watched as he walked down the hallway and oh, Lord, what a view it was. His shoulders were wide and the muscular planes of his back were even more pronounced thanks to the V-shape that ran to his waist. All of that and he moved with the grace, power and authority of a lion. He was like a Greek god and the king of the jungle all wrapped up in one.
“Arf!,” Capone barked, pulling her attention back to him.
She hadn’t missed Capone quite as much as she’d missed Dax in the months since she’d seen the two of them, but the bulldog was running a close second. Since she was little she’d wanted a dog, but her mom always came up with one reason or another that she couldn’t have one. They were too dirty, too much money, too much work, just…too much. As an adult her touring schedule had her on the road more than she was home, so it wouldn’t be fair to bring a dog into her life. Still, she got her fixes in. From the time she was sixteen, the first thing she did when they pulled into a new city was Google “Dog Park.” Then on her downtime, even though she didn’t have a dog, she’d sneak away to visit it in her go-to disguise of a baseball hat, baggy clothes and sunglasses.
Dogs were like therapy to her. They didn’t care if she was famous or unknown. They didn’t care whether her newest single was number one or one hundred on the charts. They didn’t care if she was put on the worst or best-dressed list. They didn’t care if she gained five pounds and the tabloids all said she was pregnant or if she lost five pounds and they said that she had an eating disorder. All they cared about was the love she gave them.
She wished people were more like dogs.
Drool ran from his mouth as she rubbed beneath his chin and told him what a handsome, good boy he was, all the while mentally rehearsing what she was going to say to his owner.
“He loves you.” Dax’s deep voice startled her.
She lifted her head and saw that he was done changing and now stood in the frame of the hallway, arms crossed, feet shoulder width apart. Her eyes drank him in and even without the towel he looked sexier than sin. The potency of his appearance made her a little dizzy. His light blue jeans hung low on his waist and were faded in all the right places. They were the kind of denim that looked soft to the touch. He also wore a dark navy thermal that pulled taut across his large biceps. The material showcased his upper body, highlighting the dips, bulges and curves of his chest and arms.
He cleared his throat and her gaze shot up to his. She was happy at his audible interruption because she feared that if she’d stared any longer she would give Capone a run for his money in the drooling department.
She knew he was waiting for her to say something and she had a lot to say, but in that moment her brain felt like it had short-circuited. It was as if his hotness and mere presence had blown a fuse.
Needing a moment to gather her thoughts, she stood and asked, “Is it okay if I use the restroom. It was a long drive.”
“Sure, do you remember where—”
“Yep.” She nodded as she started walking towards him.
The closer she got to him the larger he seemed. Dax was well over six feet and built like a machine. He had to turn so that she could get past him and it struck her that his size should be intimidating. Instead his large, imposing stature drew her like a moth to a flame.
Her memory had not done his massive frame justice. It was odd, she’d begun to worry on the drive from Nashville that she’d built Dax up in her mind to such mythical proportions that there was no way he could possibly live up to them. Now she knew she’d had nothing to worry about. He not only lived up to her memory—he exceeded it.
A shiver raced down her spine as she made the short walk down the hall towards the bathroom. It had been a few months since he’d given her a tour of the place, but she remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d walked her through the reno he’d already completed on the bottom floor and what he still had to do upstairs. He’d explained that flipping houses was something that he did as a hobby but his work was more than just good, it was master-craftsman level.
He was a man. A real man. A renaissance man.
She entered his bedroom on the way to the bathroom and was once again taken by how much it fit him. Not just because his furniture and bed were so massive to accommodate his size, but also because the bed frame and dresser had clean lines that contrasted the weatherworn wood perfectly.
The bathroom door was open and as she stepped inside she was struck with the clean, masculine smell and the damp, humid quality of the air. There were still beads of water on the shower tile and the towel that had been around Dax’s waist was on the floor. Her eyes scanned the shower wishing she could will the image of Dax in his birthday suit to suddenly appear. Unfortunately, she couldn’t.
Shutting the door behind her she rested her hands on the sink. Looking at her reflection she noticed that the mirror was still fogged at the corners. She also saw that her cheeks were ruddy. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cold outside or the heat inside, but they were definitely red.
Ginny removed her scarf and jacket to reveal a plain red long sleeve shirt and jeans. Her blonde hair was pulled up off her face and she wore a nude lip gloss and a single coat of mascara, both of which she’d applied in a gas station bathroom about twenty minutes ago. She’d wanted to look presentable when she saw Dax again but she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Now that she’d seen him in all of his post-shower glory she’d kind of wished she’d tried a little harder.
When she was on stage or at an event or photo shoot she enjoyed getting dolled up and playing dress up in designer clothes and jewelry. But in real life, she preferred jeans and a T-shirt, no make-up and no heels. In her personal life, she’d never had anyone that she’d cared about impressing so she’d never given much thought to her appearance beyond comfort.
Maybe she should add that to her res
olutions. She had four weeks to spread her wings without someone looking over her shoulder. As of yesterday it was a brand new year and she had one month where her only responsibility was completing her next album and figuring out who exactly she was and what she wanted with no mom, or label, or manager influencing her.
Could she do it if Dax didn’t remember or hadn’t been serious about letting her stay here? Sure. But, did she want to? No.
There had been a lot of changes in the past week. Her mother, who she still lived with and had never gone even one day of her life without seeing, had gotten married and left for a month-long European honeymoon—which was a surprise wedding gift from Ginny. The day after Christmas, she’d fired her manager and walked out on contract negotiations for her next album with the record label that she’d been signed to since she was fourteen because they had her in a box, a box that made them a lot of money but that was suffocating Ginny. Last night she’d packed a bag and driven straight here.
Knowing she couldn’t hide out forever she took a deep, fortifying breath and shook out her arms as she exhaled. This was it. It was go time. As she left the bathroom and made her way back down the hall, the same feeling that she’d had the first time she’d performed at the Grand Ole Opry filled her. It was an equal mixture of excitement and nerves that created exhilarating anticipation.
When she stepped into the living room she was given a few more minutes to gather her courage. Dax was standing with his back to her, on the phone, staring out the large picture window that sat above his couch. Her reprieve was cut short when Capone crossed the room greeting her excitedly and Dax turned and disconnected the call.
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She’d never suffered from stage fright, but she assumed this is what it felt like.
“How have you been?” he asked.
She was pretty sure that what he really wanted to ask was what are you doing here, but he was too much of a gentleman to do it.
All He Feels - Dax & Ginny (Crossroads Book 11) Page 2
