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Chapter 13
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ginny breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth slowly. Her stomach was rolling like the time she’d performed on The Country Cruise ship and ran out of Dramamine. She rubbed her belly counter clockwise, a trick she’d learned on that trip, until the feeling passed.
She’d just gotten out of the shower and after drying her hair and getting dressed she was starting to feel a little bit more human than she had when she’d woken up an hour ago. She’d opened her eyes and Dax had been sitting beside her in a chair. At first she’d thought it was a dream but then he’d stood and excused himself after pointing out that there were crackers and a bottle of water on the nightstand. Her disorientation had shielded her from the embarrassment she felt once it wore off and she started piecing together some of what had happened. Last night was fuzzy, but there were definitely snippets that were crystal clear…unfortunately.
A few particularly humiliating moments stood out in her mind. First, there was the memory of him picking her up like they were in An Officer and a Gentleman and her telling him that he smelled good and she wanted to taste him. She remembered telling Dax that he was the main reason that she’d come to Harper’s Crossing. But the worst was the memory of her saying that she was in crush with him and wanted to kiss him, to do other things that she’d never done before with him and maybe even fall in love with him.
There were of course other things almost as embarrassing, like when she’d tried to pull him back in the car after he buckled her in and he’d had to remove her hands from his jacket. She’d asked him if he believed in love. She’d told him that he was no fun, she’d mocked him by trying to imitate his voice and called him Mr. Professional, like that was a bad thing.
Yep. Those were the shining moments that kept playing over and over.
It was sad that the night had ended so poorly, because it had started out so well. She, Amber and Jamie had been having a good time. Looking back she saw that maybe she’d been having too good of a time.
She’d never really had friends. She’d gotten along with a few girls she’d met in ballet and jazz, but because her mom kept her schedule so packed she never had time to hang out with them outside of class. Once she’d gotten some celebrity she’d found it hard to meet people that were genuine and just wanted to get to know her, not Virginia Valentine. But here, in Harper’s Crossing, she’d met some really amazing women and had truly enjoyed getting to know them.
When Amber had offered her a Sangria, she’d only taken it to be polite. But after the first glass had made her feel so relaxed, she’d just kept drinking. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure how many glasses she’d drank. There was a pitcher on the table and every time her glass was low someone had topped it off. One thing was for sure, she had too much. She never really drank, which was probably why she hadn’t recognized her limit.
She glanced at the clock and saw that she had an hour before she was due at the studio. As much as she didn’t want to face Dax this morning, she knew that she would have to at some point. Besides she needed to clear the air before she worked today. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to focus and there was no way she would ever let her personal life, or lack thereof, affect her music.
As she stood she braced herself for the pounding in her head to return, but to her great relief, it didn’t. And her stomach wasn’t quite as queasy as it had been ten minutes before. Those were both silver linings to what was starting out a cloudy day.
When she made her way down the hall an uneasiness returned in her belly, but she thought that had more to do with the butterflies that were partying at the Nervous Rave than the after effects of her Sangria indulgence. As she got closer to the kitchen the scent of bacon wafted through the air and it smelled good. She’d thought that she’d be skipping breakfast since she basically felt like vomiting, but it seemed her stomach could be swayed.
She rounded the corner and saw Dax, with his back to her, at the stove. He was wearing his signature look: jeans, long-sleeve thermal and boots. The morning sun was pouring from the window and the sound of grease popping and sizzling filled the air. Capone was sitting beside him, most likely hoping for some scraps to fall. The scene would cause any woman’s hormones to explode.
“Smells good,” her voice quivered slightly, but she was still counting it as a win that she’d been able to speak at all.
“Arf!” Capone barked and ran towards her.
She bent down and scratched behind his ear and top of his head. “Good morning, handsome man. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
“He didn’t leave your side.” Dax’s deep voice sent a shiver dancing through her.
She knew that he might technically be talking about Capone, but Dax also hadn’t left her side. Raising her head she saw Dax had moved from the stove and was now standing in front of her.
Placing her hands on her thighs, she wiped her damp palms on her jeans as she stood and looked directly into his eyes. “I’m really sorry about last night. I don’t usually drink and it just got away from me.”
“No worries. I was glad I was,”—he glanced down at Capone—“sorry Cap, we were there.”
Then he grinned.
It was the kind of grin that she was sure had gotten him out of trouble as a kid, had gotten him the head cheerleader in high school, and could probably get him acquitted of murder as an adult. It was the kind of grin that she was sure had reduced greater women with much more experience than her into a pile of mush. She stood zero chance against its potency. Her knees went weak. Literally. She felt them giving out beneath her.
Hoping to save herself from further embarrassment, she pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and sat down.
Dax seemed completely unaware of his effect on her as he set the plate of bacon down on the table beside a platter of pancakes and a bowl of scrambled eggs. “How are you feeling this morning?”
She smiled up at him as he pulled out a chair opposite her. “Better than I deserve to be. Thank you so much for taking such good care of me.”
He was mid sit when he froze. It was only for a second but Ginny noticed his pause. Then he continued all the way down. “You remember last night?”
“Bits and pieces.” A nervous laugh escaped her lips and it triggered her memory of laughing at a joke she’d made in his truck. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but she did remember that she’d thought it was hilarious. And she’d laughed. Hard. She shook her head, wondering how many more suppressed tidbits were just waiting to spring to the surface.
In blessed silence they began filling their plates, just like they had the morning before. They fell into an easy rhythm. He poured her orange juice and she passed him the syrup and they ate. She was just starting to breathe easy, thinking that they were done talking about the night before. She’d faced it, addressed it, apologized and said thank you. They could move on. But, it turned out she was a little premature in her relief.
After they’d both made a good dent in their plates he asked, “So what bits and pieces do you remember?”
“Ummm…” She tapped her fork to the plate and pursed her lips.
