Chapter 8
Ivy arose early the next morning. Since it was one of her days off from the tasting room, she wanted to get as much done as possible on her mural.
And try not to think about kissing Dax Tennyson last night.
They had sat, after the kiss, talking about Lost Creek and its residents, as well as Dax’s music. He was determined to make his debut at Java Junction this coming Saturday night and had asked if she would be in the audience for him. Ivy had agreed to do so, curious as to what his voice sounded like and how he would be received.
She popped an English muffin into the toaster and buttered it when it finished, taking it along with her and eating it as she walked the short distance to the square. Living only a few blocks from her art studio had proven to be convenient.
She wondered what she would tell Harper about Dax. Her sister would most likely pump her for information about their dinner last night, but Ivy wasn’t ready to talk about Dax. Or their kiss.
It had been so long since she had kissed a man, she hadn’t been sure she would remember how to do so, but everything came roaring back when Dax placed his lips against hers.
Ivy thought it had been the best kiss of her life.
She didn’t want to read too much into it, though, especially since she had learned that Dax was coming off a broken marriage. She was determined not to be a rebound relationship for him, nor did she believe he would want to start up anything serious after being so recently divorced. It would be nice, however, to spend some time getting to know him. It had been a long time since she’d made a new friend, much less had a boyfriend.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ivy,” she cautioned aloud.
Arriving at the studio, she collected her supplies for the day, making three different trips up and down the stairs as she set up for today’s lengthy painting session. With the entire day off and the weather scheduled to be sunny and mild, she wanted to tackle as much of the mural as she could today.
Ivy worked steadily throughout the morning, climbing down from the ladder a few times so she could view her progress. The mural was really taking shape now, and several people passing by called up a greeting to her, asking about it. She was happy to tell them what she was working on, hoping word-of-mouth would spread. While she had no intentions of leaving her parents high and dry by quitting her job as the tasting room manager, eventually, she did hope to make her living through her art. The mural was the first step in that direction, giving her wide exposure in the community.
She was focused on an intricate piece of the mural for over an hour, using her smallest brushes to paint between the bricks. When she finished, she decided to take a break. On her way down the ladder, she sensed someone below her but was still surprised when strong hands caught her waist when she was a few rungs from the bottom. She moved through the air a moment before being set on her feet and turned to see Dax before her.
Ivy’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she looked at him. “Hey. What are you doing out and about?”
He bent and retrieved a large brown sack. “I thought you might be needing a lunch break about now. I went by the diner and picked up something for us to eat. That is, if you have time to stop for a while.”
“I was doing that very thing,” she told him, her stomach growling noisily, causing them both to laugh. “Let’s go up to the studio. I’ve got drinks in the fridge.”
He followed her up the stairs, and she said, “I need to wash up a bit.”
Going to the sink, Ivy scrubbed paint from her hands and arms as Dax opened the sack and removed two large Styrofoam boxes and plastic silverware.
“I got today’s special. I hope meatloaf is okay with you.”
“I’ve been eating Shelly Blackwood’s food all my life. There isn’t anything she makes that I don’t like. Well, except liver and onions.”
Dax laughed. “That’s exactly what she told me about. Your aversion to liver and onions.”
Ivy felt her cheeks heat. “You told her lunch was for me?”
“I pop into the diner for takeout pretty regularly. When I placed two orders, Shelly was curious as to who the other plate belonged to.”
“Dax, I know you’ve said you’re from Dallas. I’m not sure you understand how a small town works.”
He smiled wryly. “Oh, I’ve learned that gossip spreads faster than a California wildfire. I figure by now, Shelly has told at least five people that I was bringing lunch to Ivy Hart, and those five people have told another five people.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“For what? Are you seeing someone, Ivy? If so, I can back off.”
Her temper flared. “If I were seeing someone, I wouldn’t have kissed you last night. I’m just… I’m just worried that people will begin to couple our names because of this kind gesture.”
He took a step toward her, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. “Would you object to that? People thinking we’re seeing one another?” His deep brown eyes searched her face.
“I… I’m not sure, Dax.”
He chuckled. “At least you’re honest. But I would like to see you, Ivy. Get to know you a little better.”
She reached up, her fingers encircling his wrist and removing his hand from her cheek. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You told me you’re coming off a divorce. I’m not someone who plays around, Dax. If you want to be friends, that’s fine.” She paused. “Friends with benefits? Not a chance.”
Ivy thought he would back off. Instead, he framed her face with his hands and gave her the softest kiss she had ever received. It was brief. Sweet. And it made her question keeping him at arm’s length.
Dax broke the kiss, his hands still cradling her face tenderly. “My past is just that, Ivy. The past. I’m creating a new life for myself here in Lost Creek. You might say I’m even reinventing myself. I want to get to know you much better. I sense something between us. I’m willing to take the time to explore it if you are.”
He hesitated. “If you aren’t, tell me now. We can put it behind us and try to simply be friends. But I guarantee you that you wouldn’t be some kind of rebound for me. You would be the girlfriend in the new Dax Tennyson’s life. He’s no longer tethered to anything in his past.”
She didn’t want to think strictly with her heart and said, “Can you give me some time, Dax? I wasn’t planning on getting involved with anyone. I had designated this new chapter for me. For rediscovering my art.”
His hands dropped from her face. “Take all the time you need, Ivy, but know that I would never get between you and your art. I understand you’re rededicating yourself to it. I would never stand in the way of your professional goals. Ever.”
Dax started to turn away, but she caught his hand, pulling him back to face her.
“I don’t need any time, Dax. Let’s explore this. See where it goes.”
A brilliant smile lit up his face, one which caused Ivy to suck in her breath.
“I won’t rush you, Ivy. We can let things unfold slowly.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She glanced away from his intense gaze, immediately spotting lunch. “Why don’t we eat? That meatloaf looks amazing.”
They sat on the stools, and she devoured her lunch, not realizing how hungry she had been. The meatloaf had just a bit of a kick to it, while the mashed potatoes were smooth and the squash perfectly cooked. Conversation again flowed easily between them, and Ivy realized she had never been so comfortable in a man’s company as she was with Dax Tennyson.
He collected their trash and slipped it back into the sack the meal had come in, telling her he would take it back with him to Java Junction.
“Are you going to be working here this afternoon?” he asked.
“Yes. Wednesday is one of my days off from the tasting room. I’ll get as much done as I can today on the mural.”
“Things are really unfolding now,” he noted. “I think this mural will bring a lot of attention to your art, Ivy.”
She walked downstairs with him. “Thanks for bringing me lunch. It was a nice break to my day.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “The food—or seeing me?”
“Both,” she said, laughter bubbling up from her. “What will you be working on this afternoon before you go back to making coffee for customers?”
“I’m tinkering with a new song I started last night,” he shared. “If I like it enough, I may play it this weekend. Are you sure you can make it Saturday night to cheer me on?”
“You can count on me,” she promised. “Are you going to advertise that you’ll be playing and singing?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t decided about that yet. Part of me thinks it would be a smart idea. That it would draw in a bit of a curious crowd, and we haven’t had a lot of people dropping in on Saturday nights since we opened. A larger part of me simply wants to turn up and play unannounced to whoever is in the coffeehouse at that time. I may have DJ’d in front of hundreds of people, but I’ve never played a single song for anyone.”
Dax’s eyes grew darker. “Could I play a few songs for you before then? Either get the Ivy Hart seal of approval or have you let me down gently?”
“I’d be happy to hear you play and sing, Dax.”
“Are you free this evening?”
“I can be. I think I should listen to you play at Java Junction after it closes this evening. It would be good to practice where you’ll be performing.”
“That’s a good idea. I close at eight. Would that be too late for you?”
“Not at all,” she assured him. “I’ll stop by then.”
Resisting the urge to kiss him again—and have others on the square witness the kiss—Ivy climbed her ladder again. When she reached the top, Dax waved goodbye to her. Deliberately turning away, she determined to focus on her mural again. She had to work at concentrating because her thoughts kept wanting to return to the handsome man who had kissed her two days in a row. She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake by agreeing to see him and told herself if things became uncomfortable in the relationship or if she didn’t think Dax was the man for her, she could break it off before things grew too serious. Besides, she doubted he would want to become too invested in any relationship, having come out of a marriage which ended badly only recently.
She worked for another three hours and decided to call it quits, having completed an area of the grid she had been focused on. As she climbed down the rungs, carrying brushes with her, she spied Dax approaching again, carrying a tall drink. Ivy realized how parched she had become and smiled gratefully as he handed it to her.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t take another break, and so I brought you one of my teas. It’s a raspberry lemon blend. No caffeine in it.”
He handed it to her, and Ivy took a long drag on the straw. “Oh, this is delicious,” she declared.
“Better than coffee?” he asked, his lips twitching in amusement.
“The iced coffee you made for me yesterday was really good, but this is divine. Thank you, Dax.”
“Would you like me to help carry your supplies up to your studio?”
“That would be terrific.”
“You go on up. I’ll grab the rest.”
She took her tea and what she already had in hand and mounted the steps to the studio. Dax made a couple of quick trips, bringing everything to her.
“I’ll leave you to cleaning your brushes,” he said. “I’m due for my shift at Java Junction now. I’ll see you later.” He paused a moment. “Thank you for agreeing to listen to me play, Ivy.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.
“I’ll want your honest opinion,” he told her. “The good. The bad. And the very ugly.”
She laughed. “I promise not to hold back. I have a ton of experience meeting with artists and providing them with feedback on their pieces. I know how to evaluate talent. How to build someone up—or let them down gently. Something tells me that I’ll be heaping praise upon you, Dax Tennyson.”
He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again. Instead, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I’ll see you tonight, Ivy Hart.”
When he left, she went to the window and watched as he crossed the square, admiring his long, lean frame. She was anxious to hear his voice and the songs he had written.
And she was eager to spend more time getting to know Dax Tennyson.