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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 resolutions. 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.
