Chapter 9
Dax couldn’t believe he’d asked Ivy to come listen to him play. It would be good to have an audience—even if only composed of one person—before he dared to share his music with others. He wondered what she would think about the songs he would play for her tonight.
Especially the one he’d just finished writing about her.
After leaving her studio last night, Dax had been brimming with ideas for a new song. It seemed Ivy had inspired him more than any person or thing which had sparked him to pick up his guitar in the past. He’d rushed home and grabbed his six-string, remembering to hit the voice recorder button on his cell. He’d started using it to capture bits and pieces of melodies and lyrics as he fiddled with different lines and chord changes. Sometimes, watching the video sharpened what he had created. Other times, he paused it because it led him in a new direction.
He’d written the entire song in just under two hours. Nothing had ever come to him so fast before.
Then again, he’d never met someone quite like Ivy.
He could see now why Sean Shackleford had called her a quiet leader. Ivy had a steady presence about her, a soothing influence, and she was open and direct. He tried to capture her spirit in the lyrics and melody and believed he had. Usually, he tinkered with a song for weeks before he was satisfied. Even then, he was always going back and fiddling with lyrics of songs written years ago, like a painter not quite content with how a picture had turned out, continuing to self-edit.
This time, Dax had kept almost everything original to the song, only changing a few words here and there and keeping the basic melody intact. He’d decided to let it sit overnight and return to it this afternoon, not finding any flaws with it and not making a single change. After being with Ivy now, he knew the song was perfect just the way it was.
He only hoped it touched her as she had touched him.
After he’d filed for divorce, he had decided no woman was worth his time anymore. He had invested all he had in his relationship with Shailene, and she had hurt him more than he cared to admit. Dax had been determined that while he started his new life in the Texas Hill Country, he would never tie himself down to a woman again. He didn’t mind socializing—and sleeping—with women. Hell, he wasn’t a monk. But he did not see himself wanting to be with only one woman ever again.
Until Ivy.
Was he merely intrigued because she was so different from the other women he’d been attracted to over the years? Or was he lonelier than he’d realized and reaching out, trying to make a physical and emotional connection?
The thing is, Ivy was not a one-night stand type of woman. He couldn’t see them having sex and either staying friends or parting ways and remaining friendly, nodding to one another when their paths crossed in town. Ivy Hart was special. It didn’t matter that he’d decided relationships were a thing of the past. His gut told him if he didn’t pursue her, if he let the opportunity of being with her slip through his fingers, it would be something he regretted the rest for the rest of his life.
Maybe he was done with all women.
Except Ivy.
It was hard for him to be pulling this one-eighty, especially since Shailene had burned him so badly. Dax had seen the rest of his life being one where he did what he wanted, when he wanted, beholden to no one. Yet was that truly the kind of life he wanted?
As a boy growing up, he hated the fact that he didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Though his mom was busy working sixteen-hour days and had no time to date—much less marry someone—he’d fantasized that she would find a man who loved her for herself. That they would have children, giving him siblings. He could see himself tossing a ball to a little brother or having pretend tea parties with little sisters. It never happened, though, and he’d pushed such foolish dreams aside.
Still, he had wanted children because his soul hungered for them. He wanted to play with them. Teach them. Love them.
Maybe his attraction to Ivy would cool. Maybe it wouldn’t last. But at least it had opened his eyes to the realization that he wasn’t meant to spend the rest of his life in solitude. After all, why should he punish himself and never get close to any woman or have children simply because Shailene had not wanted them.
Or him.
Instead, he would act cautiously with Ivy. He’d already promised they would move slowly. If they clicked, he would take it to the next step. And the next. Until she was the one who wanted more—or called it quits. Dax couldn’t see himself doing that. Already, he was taken by her. It was more than a physical attraction. More than lust. More than anything he’d ever felt for anyone. These new, fragile feelings he was experiencing for Ivy mingled friendship, respect, and yearning. He simply needed to let it play out. Either it was infatuation and would run its course.
Or it might be love at first sight. A love which would continue to grow.
For now, he simply wasn’t calling it anything. No labels. No rules. He and Ivy could make those up as they went along. After all, she was in the midst of changing her entire world, the same as he was. She’d left an incredibly demanding job, one which gave her little to no time to enjoy life. She’d ditched big city living for the slower pace of Lost Creek. She had steady employment, the same as he did, and she was becoming reacquainted with her art. He was once more exploring his ties with music. Together, they could urge one another on, while they fed that creative beast within them.
Dax joined Sean behind the counter. Tying on an apron, he asked, “How are things?”
“See for yourself,” the barista said, waving his hand.
He looked across the room, seeing it was a little busier than it had been at this time of day. He hoped by the time school let out at the end of the month, more people would be stopping by Java Junction. Teenagers with time on their hands, looking for a safe place to socialize. More out-of-towners who spent a few days in Lost Creek, sampling wines and shopping. Even some looking to hear a little music.
Then an idea hit him. A good one, at the very least, and possibly a great one. An idea he wanted to share with Ivy, knowing she would approve and be able to add to his vision. Something that would bring the community of Lost Creek together in a unique way and support local artists at the same time. Excitement filled him, and he was eager to share it with her.
A group of women came in, placing orders as only females could. Each order was very specific, with none being a straight off-the-menu drink. Dax didn’t mind tailoring their drinks, though. He was here to make people happy, and special orders never bothered him. In fact, he appreciated that some individuals knew exactly what they wanted and weren’t afraid to ask for it.
When he reached the last person in the group, she said, “I’m Dianne Farrow from Bluebonnet Montessori. My husband Sam comes in and gets me my morning latte from you.”
He smiled. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Dianne. I’m Dax. Will it be a latte?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m getting to be a certain age, Dax. Women who suffer from insomnia and constantly fan themselves when a hot flash strikes. Do you have something without caffeine?”
“If you’re looking to perk up without the caffeine, I’d go with peppermint tea. It’s also good for digestive health. But since you mentioned menopause symptoms, you might want to try sage tea. It helps regulate menopause and reduces mood swings.”
“Sold!” Dianne said, laughing. “Sage, it is.”
“You’ll like it,” he promised. “It’s also got a ton of antioxidants and anti-inflammatory substances in it. Sage tea can really keep you healthy.”
“If it can help my terrible mood swings, my husband will be thrilled. So will I.”
As he worked on the orders, she asked, “I’m here with members of my book club. We usually meet in someone’s home, but Sam suggested we try Java Junction today for a change of pace. Since it was my turn to host, I told the ladies to meet me here. It meant I didn’t have to clean up before or after, and I didn’t have to deal with preparing drinks. The only thing lacking is the usual snacks.”
“I can run a couple doors down and pick up something at The Bake House for everyone,” he offered.
“You’d bring something else in?”
“Why not? What’s a good book discussion unless you’re nibbling on something sweet?”
Dax passed her sage tea to her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, I need to pay you,” Dianne protested.
“Sean will take care of you. I assume with a group of women, chocolate is a must.”
She smiled broadly. “I think you are a very smart businessman, Dax Tennyson.”
He told Sean he’d be right back and ducked out of Java Junction, heading for Ethel’s bakery. He had counted eight women in the group, so he selected four brownies and four chocolate chip cookies, telling Ethel to put them on his tab of morning goodies.
Hurrying back to the coffeehouse, he took the bakery box to the area the book club was now camped out in.
“Dianne mentioned you’ll be discussing a book you’ve all read. I thought you could stand to have a treat as you did so.”
He set the box on the table and opened it. “Four brownies and four cookies. Instead of duking it out, I’d suggest you split everything in half. That way, you can get a taste for both.”
The women tittered, and he knew most of them, if not all, would be back. To encourage that, he said, “I hope you’ll schedule every book club meeting here at Java Junction. You’re welcome anytime.”
They thanked him, and Dax hoped not only would he see them, but possibly other kinds of clubs might hit upon the idea to make the coffeehouse the place they gathered. He really would need to get with Ethel now in order to have on hand a small selection of sweet treats for this very thing.
A group of teens came in with an older woman, who mentioned she was their drill team sponsor.
“We need to make plans for summer camp and next year’s activities,” she told him.
“I’m glad you thought of Java Junction,” he replied. “What can I get you ladies?”
Dax remained busy for the next few hours, with things only slowing around seven-thirty. Ivy appeared, and he greeted her.
“Coffee or tea?” he asked. “Or do I even need to ask?”
She grinned sheepishly. “Does it reflect badly on you if you’re dating a woman who’d rather drink tea than coffee?”
“Not at all. I say stay true to yourself. Would you like to go caffeine-free? Hot or cold?”
“Surprise me,” she said.
“I don’t want to put you to sleep, so I’ll skip the passionflower. I think we’ll go hibiscus. It’s great hot or cold and really enhances your skin. Not that you need that, Ivy. Your complexion is flawless.”
She blushed to her roots. Dax had noticed she turned red at the slightest compliment.
“You know you would make for a terrible poker player,” he told her. “Every card in your hand would show on your face.”
Her blush deepened. “You’ve heard of people being an open book. That’s definitely me.”
He decided to give her the tea cold. It would give her something to sip on and would last much longer. Hot tea cooled quickly, and he knew she would be at the coffeehouse for a while.
They chatted as he prepared her order. She told him her friends Finley Farrow and Emerson Frost had come for dinner.
“They live a couple of doors down from us, and Braden cooks for us and them once a week. Emerson bakes, though, and she brought the most heavenly German chocolate cake.”
“Is Finley related to Sam and Dianne? I’m trying to get my Lost Creek residents straight.”
“She’s their daughter,” Ivy said. “Finley and Emerson both teach elementary school. They roomed together at UT, and Finley and Harper were in the same sorority. Finley also takes photographs on the side. She’s been doing senior pictures for students. Not the stereotypical pose in your cap and gown that goes in the yearbook. She takes kids outdoors and shoots them in a more playful way. She also has them bring their uniform if they play a sport or if they’re in band. Extracurriculars are big in Lost Creek.”
“Says the former drum major.”
Ivy blushed again. “Mr. Shackleford must’ve told you that.”
“He said you were the band’s drum major two years running and the best leader he’d ever had. That your fellow band members really listened to you.”
She looked pleased. “I did my best to be a good drum major and get the best out of everyone.”
Dax smiled at her. “You’re still doing that, Ivy. I hope you’ll also get the best out of me.”
Her face flamed, and he laughed. Passing over her glass of tea, he said, “Go take a seat. We’ll be closing soon. I have something I want to run by you. I think it’s got real potential.”
The book club members began rising, collecting purses and books. As they passed, they thanked him for the baked goods.
“We’ll be back every month,” one of them said. “It’s a relief to have somewhere close and charming to meet.”
“You’re welcome anytime,” he said, waving goodbye.
Sean went to collect the empty cups and glasses from the book club members and wipe their tables down, while Dax busied himself behind the bar. Soon, the last customer had left, and all dishes were done.
“Go ahead and leave, Sean. I’ll sweep up.”
The barista untied his apron. “Okay, Dax. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy some quiet time with Ivy.”
She waved to her former band director as he left the coffeehouse and then rose, coming to meet Dax.
“Anything I can do?”
“I’ll need to sweep and mop, but I’d rather put that off and sing for you. Be right back.”
He went to the back of the coffeehouse and up the stairs to his apartment, returning with his guitar. Looking around, he asked, “Where do you think I should be?”
She perused the space. “Here.” Ivy walked to an area which had a large wall behind it. “You can push this couch this way. Move this table there. That gives you plenty of room, so you don’t feel boxed in.”
They moved the furniture, and he pulled up a chair.
“Do you have a stool?” she asked. “If you were up a little higher, people could see you better.”
“I don’t. But I can pick one up tomorrow. Good idea.”
She returned to where she had been sitting. “I don’t want to be right on top of you, so I’ll sit here.” She took a seat. “The floor is all yours.”
Suddenly, a wave of nerves struck him. Dax wasn’t someone who got nervous. He never had been. But he was about to play songs he’d written for a woman he wanted to impress. He wanted—no, needed—her to like them. To like him.
Taking a calming breath, he told himself that Ivy already liked him. If she didn’t think his voice or songs were good enough to perform in public, she would let him know.
Dax sat, anchoring his guitar. Looking up, he said, “This is called Light Up the Sky.”
His fingers began strumming, his voice clear, as he sang the first song he’d ever written. It was almost surreal, singing his own work aloud, in a place he owned.
With a woman he already cared deeply for as his audience of one.
When he brushed the final chord, he closed his eyes, gathering his courage before opening them and gazing at Ivy. She was already moving toward him, stopping as she reached him. Bending, she captured his face in her hands and brought her mouth to his.
The kiss was tender, her touch light. Dax moved his guitar aside, setting it on the ground and pulling her into his lap. Ivy’s arms went about him as his did the same. The kiss took on new life, the passion sparking between them. Yet he didn’t want to ask too much of her too soon. Because of that, Dak kept it chaste. Still, he’d never kissed a woman closed-mouth for this long while feeling so turned on by her.
Hungrily, they continued to kiss, his arms tightening about her. He never wanted to let Ivy go.
She was the one to break the kiss.
“Why aren’t you doing this for a living?” she demanded. “You have a rare gift, Dax. You should be sharing it with the world.”
“For now, my world is Lost Creek,” he said simply. “Finding my place in this community. Serving coffee and giving residents a comfortable, clean, friendly place to come to. If I can also entertain them a bit, I’ll do that, as well.”
“You’ll certainly do that. Your song was so poignant. Tender and yet full of life. Can I hear more?”
“If you want to.”
Her smile made his heart beat rapidly. “I definitely want to hear more. I feel like I’m Colonel Parker, hearing Elvis for the first time, knowing the world is not going to know what hit them.”
He shook his head. “I’m not that good, Ivy..”
“Your voice has a beautiful tone to it, and you also have a wonderful way in phrasing your lyrics. I can’t believe I know someone who wrote a song that good.”
He met her gaze. “It’s the first one I ever wrote.”
She looked incredulous. “The first?”
“Yes. Of course, I’ve fussed with it a lot over the years, trying to get it exactly where I want it.”
“I wouldn’t change a word. Not one note,” she insisted. “Okay. I’m ready to hear more music from you.”
In that moment, Dax knew he wanted to wait to play the song he’d written for Ivy. He would play others for her now and perform them Saturday night as he sat in this very spot.
But Forever’s Embrace needed to stay with him for a while. It was too early in their relationship to let her hear it. He would know when the time was right to play it for her.
She climbed from his lap. “What else you got, Dallas?”
He chuckled. “So, that’s my nickname, Professor?”
Ivy smiled flirtatiously. “I suppose it is.”
Returning to her seat, she waited.
“This is one I call Dreams Turn to Dust.”
But Dax knew the new dreams which had taken hold of him—those of building a life in Lost Creek with this woman—were just starting to take shape.