14
Jace
“Dax Munro,” I said as I approached the bar at Fever Pitch.
Dax spun around on his stool, a grin spreading across that sexy mug of his. It was that charming Dax Munro smile I’d found myself missing over the past few weeks, nearly a fucking month.
Too fucking long, that’s what it was.
He pushed to his feet, and we hugged. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a family approaching us. “Excuse me,” a young girl said as she came closer.
I turned to Dax, who motioned to her. “You have fans now. This is how it goes.”
It’d gotten a lot worse since the announcement of my deal with Hacksmore, to a degree I didn’t expect, considering I hadn’t even had my first photoshoot yet. It was all based on the hype of the deal itself and the video I’d posted online.
I did my best to acclimate to my new status, though. Lord knew, when I ran into MVP star quarterback Ash Carmichael a few months prior, I hadn’t hesitated to ask for his autograph, and if he’d said no or brushed me off, I would have been so fucking disappointed.
I signed Fever Pitch napkins for the girl and then for her dad, who seemed as excited to chat me up as she was.
“That happening a lot lately?” Dax asked as he sat back down, sipping on his martini, simpering.
“Hey, buddy,” Dallas said with a bright smile as he approached and set a napkin on the bar before me, along with my usual beer. He would have done that even before all the attention began, but it was annoying to have yet another interruption from the whole reason I was there.
“Thanks, Dallas,” I said, and then to Dax, “Yeah, but I can manage it.” I slid onto the stool beside him.
“I’m glad you’re good now, because trust me, this is just the beginning. What’s been the worst so far? Have you had people snapping pictures of you randomly or unfavorable write-ups in the local paper?”
“Nothing like that,” I replied. “Everyone’s been so nice, and I’ve noticed a few people taking pictures of me in the grocery store or something, but other than that, it just takes me three times as long to take my normal trips around town, you know?”
“Yes, I do. Just get ready for when the commercials come around. Something about being on people’s TVs makes them feel like you’re right in their homes with them, their friends even.”
“Your mom?”
His gaze lowered to his drink, though I could tell he was looking far beyond it, as though seeing some memory in his past. “All the women we’d run into wanted to be her, or at least be her best friend. The guys pretended to be her friends long enough to get something more from her. I’m sure you’ve already had more than your share of that kind of attitude.”
“It’s good for my ego,” I teased, and I could tell by the way he laughed that he took my remark in the spirit I’d intended. I took a swig of my beer. “Now, how about you, Mr. PR? How are things going on your end of all this?”
“I have the easy job. I just schmooze. I don’t even have to set up appointments, since Carter handles all that.”
“When’s he get in?”
“He’s here, but I told him he wasn’t going to meet up with you and get all googly eyed again.”
“Googly lipped is more like it.”
Dax had been about to take another sip of his drink when he stopped, snickering. “That’s the Jace I’ve been missing.”
“Ah, so you have been missing me.”
“You’re not gonna get more than that out of me.” He set his glass on the bar. “Any rate, Carter is probably trolling around on Grindr, Scruff, and Tinder for some action right about now, so we can catch up.”
“I’m glad you came by yourself,” I confessed, and the way he looked at me, I could tell he was pleased I’d said it.
“Excuse me,” a voice came from beside me, and I turned to see a couple of high school girls standing there. Dax snickered but turned away to keep from making his amusement obvious to the girls.
After I accommodated them with a few selfies and signatures, I told Dax, “I might have a better idea for dinner.” I retrieved my phone from my back pocket and called an Uber.
“Oh, gonna take me to some secluded part of Fever Falls where you’re a virtual unknown?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
“Something like that.”
We headed out of the restaurant.
“Hey, Hottie Firefighter!” a voice called from down the street.
Seriously? Am I gonna have to take another selfie tonight?
I turned and was relieved to see Rush heading along the sidewalk toward us.
“Hey, man!” I called back as he approached and reeled me in for a hug. As he pulled away, I said, “Dax, this is Rush—”
“Yes, it would be hard for me not to know who Rush Alexander is,” Dax said with a chuckle, as though he found it humorous that I figured he might not have recognized the celebrity motocross rider. “I’ve definitely been surprised by how many stars can be traced to Fever Falls.”
“Stick around,” Rush said. “They say we’re up-and-coming, which sounds like branding for a Grindr profile, not a city, but what do I know?”
We shared a laugh before catching up briefly. He was in town for a few days and was meeting up with Ash and Beau for dinner at Fever Pitch.
When our Uber arrived, Rush headed on his way, and we slipped into the car. It was nice that the woman driving didn’t recognize me, so we were able to chat about movies and TV shows for the ten-minute drive before Dax finally asked me, “Okay, but seriously. Where are we going for dinner?”
“Just wait, Mr. Impatient.”
We stopped shortly after, and I thanked the driver and hopped out of the car. Dax did the same, glancing around, his eyebrows furrowed.
“The fuck?” he asked. “Are we—”
“Welcome to Chez Kruse.” I waved to my townhouse as the driver headed down the street to turn around in the cul-de-sac.
Dax burst into laughter, bowing over, hands on his thighs as he tried to collect himself.
“Hey, it’s an alright place,” I insisted.
“No, it’s not that, Jace. I just…” He struggled a moment longer to contain his amusement, then stood erect once again. He approached and rested his hand on my shoulder, adding, “This is probably the most refreshing place you could have brought me to this evening. Mac here?”
“Yeah, he is!” I grinned just at the mention of his name.
I guided him inside, and Mac hopped up from his bed and hurried over to greet us. “Aw, you excited I brought my buddy Dax?”
He barked, which made Dax laugh.
“You said you didn’t have any pets, right? —Say hey to Dax, buddy.”
Dax knelt and reached his hand out, which Mac sniffed like crazy before accepting Dax’s rubdown.
“Good boy,” he said as Mac lay down on the floor and rolled over.
“Yeah, he loves a good belly rub.”
“Just like his daddy,” Dax said, turning to me and winking.
“Hell, I sure wouldn’t have a problem getting rubbed down as much as he does, if some generous guy offered.”
“Oh, now you’re just interested in guys. I guess I have that effect on people.”
I let Dax enjoy believing that about himself, because I enjoyed when he acted a little full of himself. It was hot.
As much as he tried to seem like nothing more than a cool, collected, confident powerhouse, as he knelt on the floor, beaming while petting my little Shar-Pei pooch, I knew I was seeing the real Dax Munro. He rubbed Mac’s lower belly, leaving Mac twitching his head either way and reveling in the experience.
“Yeah, that’s his favorite right there,” I told him.
“I’m good at finding the right spot.” Dax’s gaze shifted back to me, filled with determination and a playful mischievousness that had a way of getting me riled up. “So you want to get some pizza and wings like we did in London?”
“Pizza? No. Fuck that. I’m gonna make dinner.�
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Dax seemed surprised by that.
“What? You didn’t think I could cook? Come on. If you thought Nance was a good chef, just wait until you get a taste of what I can work up.”
“I had a taste of that.”
“Enough with the innuendo. I don’t need the chat when we can get to all that later.”
“What makes you think I want to mess around with you later? You’re the one who practically tricked me into coming over to your place.”
“Well, how about you stay for dinner and drinks, and then we’ll see if I can persuade you.”
“I’m the one who persuades, Jace.”
“We’ll see about that.” I started for the kitchen, which was on the other side of the living area, behind the island that jutted out from the wall.
Dax pushed to his feet and headed around the island. He leaned against it as I opened the pantry to see what I could whip up.
“Outside your normal dietary needs, is there anything you’re violently allergic to?” I queried.
“Not that I’m aware of. And it’s fine. I’m not going to be a stickler about my diet tonight if we’re going by what you have in your pantry.”
“Hmmm…” I scanned the boxed noodles, bottles of sauces, and canned goods before heading to the fridge and checking out what I had in there. “I think I’m gonna settle on some fried chicken. You like fried chicken?” I glanced over my shoulder to check out his expression. He shrugged. “Okay, that’s what I’m doing because clearly you’ve never had great fried chicken.”
“I’m fine with it.”
“I’m not okay with this laissez-faire attitude you have about fried chicken, so we’re gonna fix that, aren’t we, Mac?”
Mac was watching me searching through the fridge, and I knew it was because I’d encouraged him with pieces of deli meat and leftovers, something I shouldn’t have gotten him in the habit of expecting.
I grabbed some chicken from the fridge and set it beside the stove.
“You wanna peel some potatoes for me? I make some good loaded potatoes.”
“Yeah, I’ll peel some potatoes,” Dax said with a laugh.
“What? Tell me you’ve peeled potatoes before.”
“I…um…” He thought about it for a moment. “No, not really.”
“What kind of person has never peeled potatoes? And here I thought Nance was a good judge of character.”
“What do you think of that, Mac?” Dax asked, and as I turned to them, Mac lay down at Dax’s feet.
“Yeah, I guess he’s not a good judge either.”
Dax folded his arms and shook his head, that smile as broad as ever.
“I don’t have any martinis here, but you can help yourself to what I have.” I indicated my liquor cabinet on the other side of the room, near the living area.
“Oh, this is my department—I’ve got the drinks and potatoes.”
He headed to the bar and fixed us some vodka and ginger ale while I got the chicken started and put a pot of water on the stove. Then I fetched the potatoes, a peeler, and a bowl and guided him through the process, not able to keep from snickering at the way he was doing it.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked as he sat on the other side of the island, peeling in small pieces around a potato.
“If you just run it along the side of the potato, it’ll be easier. Here.” I demonstrated, sliding it around and then making my way in a spiral down the potato.
“Oh, got it.” Dax took the potato and peeler back and worked it himself. As I mixed spices and breadcrumbs, he inspected my work. “And the Hottie Firefighter cooks too? Don’t let that leak to the press. Then you’ll really be batting them off you.”
“Okay, tonight was strange. I admit to getting some attention from all this, but that was more than usual.”
“I have a feeling it’s just the beginning, Jace. I hope you can handle it.”
“I can handle it alright. Just takes some getting used to,” I said. “Like peeling potatoes.”
“Jace Kruse, I didn’t have this planned for tonight, but somehow this feels very you. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just picture you with a beer in your hand, making dinner for some friends and maybe watching a movie or talking about whatever.”
“That sounds about right. We get out and have our fun, but nothing wrong with settling down around the house for a good time too. My buddies and I get enough action on the job, so we typically like to settle down when we’re home.”
“That’s gotta be stressful.” His expression turned serious, the way I sometimes noticed with people whenever I brought up my work.
“It’s stressful, but most people seem to think we’re all gloom and doom about it because there’s so much at stake. I don’t revel in anyone’s place being on fire or anyone being in danger, but it’s almost a sport. This is what I train for, this is what I’m an expert in, so when an emergency comes up, it’s like I’m a quarterback and it’s game day. And there’s something a little exciting about never knowing when game day is…that I have to be ready for it every day. And some days, there are so many games, it’s like our station’s Olympics.”
“That’s definitely not what I would have expected,” Dax admitted.
“But then when we have a few days off, we need a break from having game days every other day of the week. So I like for people to be able to chill and relax with me.”
“I bet you have really good friends.”
“Sure do. Most are from the station. You spend a lot of time with the guys, so it’s how it works.”
“Of course. Most of my friends are in this same industry too. It’s definitely easier being around people who get what I do. Obviously not on the same level as you, that’s not how I meant that. I have enormous respect for your job, because God knows there aren’t that many people willing to be the Batmans of the world.”
“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” I observed. “But there are plenty of us in the world. And it’s a good life when you know that what you’re doing really matters…that sacrificing your own safety actually makes a difference, even if it’s just in one person’s life. And if you’re lucky like me, you get to see just how many people can be touched by what you do.”
Dax wore a pensive expression. “Well, not exactly the way my job works. I don’t get to see that part of humanity often. I tend to see the conniving and scheming and double-dealing.”
“I see all that too, don’t worry. I’m just lucky to get to see the other side, to know that it’s there. Some people are goddamn awful, but they’re the exception, not the rule. Most guys…they got a good place in their heart. Even if they don’t care to show it to everyone. Even if they feel like they need to hide it because they want the world to think they’re Mr. Tough Guy.”
“Well, I am Mr. Tough Guy,” Dax said with a smile.
“I bet. Now get me those potatoes done so I can get them going.”
15
Dax
What I enjoyed most about Jace was how easy it was to talk to him.
There was something unusual about being in his home, making dinner with him…well, if that’s what I could call peeling seven Russet potatoes. But there was something pleasant about it too.
While Jace finished the fried chicken, I set the table in the dining area beside the kitchen.
His place wasn’t flash and designer chic the way I was used to seeing with my friends. His was more like Nance’s—traditional furnishings and decor. A few pictures of Jace and his friends and family were displayed on a console table alongside the liquor cabinet. It felt like a home, and I could see why people would gravitate to it to sit and relax with a guy like Jace, who, along with his many admirable traits, was obviously a good listener. Perhaps too good, in that way that made me nervous that he was possibly picking up on more through our brief conversations than I cared for him to know. Or anyone, really.
“Okay, here we go,” Jace said as he set a plate of fried chicken in
the center of the table and the bowl of loaded mashed potatoes beside it.
Mac drooled as he walked alongside Jace, clearly wanting a taste of the food, which, I had to admit, smelled so fucking good.
“I got you, boy,” Jace told him before heading back into the kitchen and slipping Mac a piece of cooked chicken, since he’d saved a few just for that purpose.
I slid into a chair on one end, and Jace sat in the one adjacent to me, taking charge as he grabbed a fork and offered me some chicken, then scooping mashed potatoes on my plate.
“Salt? Pepper? Extra cheese for the taters?”
“Well, aren’t you quite the host?”
“I try to excel in everything I do,” he said, his tone dripping with charm and sex appeal. “Now hurry up and try that fried chicken, and tell me if that doesn’t make you realize any other fried chicken you’ve had in your life is some bullshit.”
I grabbed a piece, and as I pulled it to my mouth, said, “I don’t have much to compare it to, but I’ll let you know.”
I took a bite, enjoying the sensation of the spices pricking at my tongue, the eruption of flavor in my mouth. “Fuck,” I murmured, which made Jace grin.
“Damn right. That’s what you’ve been missing all these years.”
I relished the taste before taking another bite, a bit larger than I’d intended, and it burned the roof of my mouth. “Oh shit,” I said, then took a swig of my drink to soothe the sting.
“Holy shit. You take to my chicken like you take to my cock,” Jace mocked. “You okay, man?”
I swallowed, recovering from the surprise. “Yeah, fine. Burned the goddamn roof of my mouth, but I’ll be good.”
Jace hopped up. “I’ll get you some water for that.” He poured me a glass and set it on the table beside me. As I took a sip, the cool water gave me some additional and much-needed relief.
“Just so good, I guess I couldn’t help myself,” I said.
“I know the feeling.” Jace’s gaze was right on mine, and as it drifted to my lips, I knew he was referring to when we’d first messed around.
#BURN (Fever Falls Book 2) Page 9
