Chapter 18
Dax awoke at his usual time, his body curled around Ivy’s.
Last night had been life-altering.
It wasn’t just the sex, either. He had felt the chemistry between them, and it had proven to be correct. Their lovemaking had been explosive. Yet it wasn’t merely the physical act of making love to Ivy which had changed between them. It was where he stood emotionally.
Coming to Lost Creek, Dax had wanted a clean start. He had ripped off the bandage that was his old life—job, marriage, philosophy—in order to become the person he wanted to be proud of for the rest of his life. He hadn’t known Ivy would play such a huge role in this transformation.
He no longer wanted to go it alone. He understood now that his life would be better—he would be better—if Ivy were an intricate part of it. Dax only hoped she felt the same way.
She shifted in his arms. Suddenly, warm lips pressed against his chest, stirring desire within him. Soon, they were making love again, this time slowly. Tenderly. Lovingly. When they climaxed at the same time, joy filled him, along with a very possessive streak.
This was his woman. His future.
They lay together in the aftermath, limbs tangled, kissing, not being able to get enough of one another.
Finally, Ivy asked, “What time is it? I know you get up early to run.”
Reluctantly, he lifted an arm from her and reached for his phone by the bedside. “It’s five after six.”
“You open Java Junction at seven on weekends. I should be going.”
When she began to untangle herself from him, his arms tightened about her.
“Five more minutes.”
“I would stay here five days if we could,” she told him.
They spent that time kissing deeply, and contentment poured through Dax, knowing he finally felt complete because of the commitment they’d made to one another.
Ivy was the one to pull away. “I need to let you get moving. I’ve already disrupted your running routine.”
He kissed her. “You can disrupt my routine every day of the week. I think I got enough of a workout with you, as it is,” he teased.
Forcing himself to relax, he allowed his arms to fall away, freeing her. She rose from the bed and began dressing. Dax watched, flashes of last night and this morning playing before his eyes.
He climbed from the bed once she was dressed, enveloping her in his arms and kissing the top of her head.
“I assume you’re working at the tasting room today.”
“Yes. Yesterday was the first Saturday I’ve taken off since I’ve been the manager. Weekends are busy for us, however. I need to be there all day today.”
“You have plans for dinner?”
“Yes. Some guy I’ve been hanging out with lately. I just can’t seem to shake him.”
Dax laughed, kissing her. “You want to come over once you’ve closed up? I don’t really cook. Except for breakfast.”
“Ooh, I love breakfast for dinner. Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself, Professor.”
Kissing her a final time, he let her go so they both could begin their day.
At the door, she said, “I’ll see you tonight. About six-thirty.”
He caught her elbow. “I love you, Ivy. Thank you for last night. And all the nights to come.”
Those hazel eyes gazed up at him, making him feel complete in a way he never had before. “Thank you for making me feel special, Dax. Sexy. No man has ever made me think I was sexy.”
“You’ve dated a lot of idiots then.”
Laughing, she said, “I agree.” Then she sobered. “I love you, too.”
Once Ivy was gone, he showered and shaved, dressing in his usual T-shirt and shorts before heading downstairs. He thought he might take a page out of the Lost Creek Vineyards playbook and think about both him and his employees wearing Java Junction T-shirts. He didn’t usually work weekends, allowing Scott to take over both those days, knowing it was important to create that work/life balance and not get caught on the hamster wheel ever again as he had in his Dallas accountant days.
Today, though, was different. Dax believed the coffeehouse might do more business than usual. He’d learned gossip was the life of a small town, and the citizens of Lost Creek would want to talk about last night’s Harmony Hues.
When he reached the barista bar, Scott was already busy brewing the gallons of coffee which locals picked up for various Sunday school classes meeting on Sunday mornings. He knew Ethel did her fair share of business with the same crowd, providing donuts for pickup.
“And here I thought you were just some coffeehouse owner,” Scott said, spying him. “Who knew the boss could sing and play so well? Seriously, Dax, your music is really good. I can’t believe you wrote the songs you performed.” He paused. “I’m happy for you, buddy. Not just for the success of fusion night, but also because of Ivy. I don’t know her well, but her family has a stellar reputation in this town. Bill and Cecily Hart are good people. I know Ivy and Harper are, too.”
“Nothing like telling your girlfriend you love her in front of a huge crowd,” Dax said lightly.
Scott grinned. “Oh, I’ll bet you scored major points for telling her you loved her in a song you wrote for her. You’ll be playing that song for Ivy for years to come.”
It was a little hard for Dax to wrap his head around that idea. Ever since he’d opened Java Junction, he’d lived in the moment. Yet he knew he wanted a future with Ivy. How he would go about asking her to share it with him was another matter. Maybe he better write it in a song. He seemed to know exactly what to say through his lyrics.
The morning rush hit heavier than the usual Sunday. Some of the customers were headed to church. Others were grabbing their caffeine before hitting the lake for a day of fun in the summer sun. He recognized many faces from last night, all assuring him how much they’d enjoyed attending Harmony Hues and how they couldn’t wait for the next one to roll around. He decided he should have a few signs printed up to put in the coffeehouse’s window to advertise the next event. Maybe a few of the other local merchants along the square and Main Street might also place one in their windows to spread the word. He would talk it over with Ivy and have her design something for him.
Deke stopped in, ordering an Americano, saying, “We need to talk about last night, Dax. Do a port-mortem.”
“I agree. I would say now, but things are hopping.”
Deke indicated the newspaper tucked under his arm. “I’ll sit in a corner and read the paper. If you have a few minutes to spare, come over.”
It surprised him when Sean and Jeanine showed up. Both baristas wore their aprons and joined Scott and the two teenagers who worked the Sunday shift.
“What are you two doing here?”
“I figured things would be busy this morning,” Sean said. “Thought you might could use an extra hand or two.”
“I don’t think all of us will fit behind the bar,” Dax said, laughing.
“Then get off your feet for a few minutes and let us pitch in,” Jeanine said.
“I think I’ll take your advice.”
“What can I bring you?” Scott asked.
“Just a regular coffee,” he replied. “One sugar and a splash of milk. Thanks.”
Dax went and joined Deke. The gallery owner asked if Dax had received any feedback this morning.
“Quite a bit. All of it positive,” he shared. “A lot of people who’ve stopped by this morning came last night. Those who weren’t are realizing they missed out on something special. It was already standing room only last night. Frankly, I don’t know how we’re going to be able to cater to everyone who wants to attend next time.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Deke said. “Actually, Ivy is the one who mentioned it to me last night.”
She had said nothing to him. Then again, they had been busy with other things.
“What’s the idea?”
“Ivy thought we needed to move the event outdoors. To the gazebo in the center of the square. That way, we wouldn’t have to limit the amount of art on display. It would take investing in some good sound equipment in order for the singers and musicians to be heard.”
The idea excited him. “I’d be happy to make that investment. We wouldn’t have to limit the number of people in attendance if we hold it outdoors. I’m sure it’ll take some kind of permit to hold a public event, though. I can look into that.”
“If Texas is anything like Colorado, you’ll have to apply for the permits in advance. It might be too late to do so for next week’s Wednesday fusion. Still, you could apply for the other ones since we already know the dates. You could still provide coffee and tea for people. It might be smart to speak with Rob Owens. He owns Hill Country Hangout, the sports bar. I know Rob has a food truck he takes to events in the area. I’m sure he’d be willing to set up on one of the ends of the square.”
“This is terrific, Deke. I’ll get on this first thing tomorrow morning once the city offices open. Have you decided any of the pieces to be shown this upcoming Wednesday?”
“I started thinking about that after three pieces sold last night, Dax,” Deke said, chuckling. “I should finish pulling a list together from the gallery and get that email with pictures to Ivy by the end of the day. She can load those photos to your website. You might want to contact that jewelry maker. Her stuff sold out even faster than my clients’ paintings and sculptures did.”
“I’ll do that today,” he promised.
Deke finished his coffee. “Let me know if you want to meet anytime tomorrow to finalize things.”
“I’ll holler at you as soon as I’ve spoken to someone with the city. That way, you’ll know whether you’re setting up at Java Junction again or outdoors.”
Dax sat for another hour, sipping his own coffee as multiple people stopped by, telling him how much they enjoyed the previous evening or how they looked forward to attending future Harmony Hues nights. The crowd finally dwindled, but he knew they would continue to do a steady business after church let out. He sent Sean and Jeanine home, thanking them both for pinch-hitting this morning and then took their place again behind the barista bar.
“While we’ve got a minute to breathe, let me ask you about something,” Dax said to Scott. “You saw how crowded last night turned out to be.”
“To be honest, I was waiting for the fire chief to show up and close the doors,” Scott admitted.
Dax explained the idea of moving fusion night to the town square, saying, “Deke thinks it would be a better way to display the art. The musicians could perform in the gazebo, and that raised platform would give them better visibility to the crowd. We could still sell our coffee and tea. Deke suggested Rob Owens set up his food truck, too.”
“I like that idea. Better crowd flow. A little elbow room. But you’ll need some permits.”
“That’s why I thought I’d talk to you first and get an idea how to go about filing for those. I thought as a policeman, you could point me in the right direction.”
“My aunt handles that at city hall,” Scott explained. “Let me give her a buzz.” He tapped his cell phone. “Hey, Aunt G. You stopping by Java Junction on the way home from church? Good. Listen, Dax has a few questions to run by you. Coffee on the house if you answer them for him. Okay. See you soon.”
Scott ended the call. “Aunt Gladys stops by with a few friends every Sunday. She’s my favorite relative and is really the one who, besides you, helped me get through my divorce. Aunt G fed me and listened to me, while you gave me something to do with my hands and kept me busy during the roughest part of it. She’ll get you squared away.”
Ten minutes later, a group of five women came through the door. Scott greeted them and introduced Dax.
“Gladys Bradshaw, this is Dax Tennyson, my boss.”
“You were part of the book club that came in with Dianne Farrow.”
“I was. Java Junction is going to be a godsend to our group. I love my book club ladies, but we’d gotten to a point where everyone was trying to outdo everyone, making more and more elaborate treats to eat and finding exotic coffees to brew. This way, we can come into Java Junction, grab a cup of coffee or tea and something sweet, and actually talk about books.”
Scott passed his aunt a coffee. “Your favorite. Go sit with Dax.”
He led Gladys to a table for two in the corner. “I want to talk to you about the fusion night we held here last night.”
Gladys brightened. “Oh, yes. I already had plans with my bridge club or I would’ve been here, but I heard all about Harmony Hues at Sunday school this morning. What a lovely idea, spotlighting local talent.”
“Thank you. What we ran into last night is that a lot of people attended. More are expected at the next one. I’d like to start holding them in the gazebo in the middle of the square. That way, people could even bring lawn chairs or sit on the grass. Do their art walk and listen to the music. Hopefully, stop in at Java Junction beforehand and pick up some coffee. I need to know how to go about renting the gazebo from the city and any permits I might need.”
“The good thing is you’re not holding what Lost Creek classifies as a community event. Those are more for a community carnival or fun run. That type of thing, where we have requests to close off public parking and streets and tents are erected, is a little more complicated and expensive. I assume your singers and musicians would play in the gazebo, so no stage would be erected.”
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“Then I would classify this as more of a rental of outdoor facilities. You’re merely hosting your event at a public space. The good thing is that the rental application for this only takes three days to process. You do have to submit your application a minimum of seven business days in advance, though.”
“Okay. That’ll cut out this coming Wednesday’s fusion night. Then again, I’m not anticipating the crowd on a weeknight that we had on Saturday.”
“If you stop by city hall tomorrow morning with a date of your future art walks, I can get those on the city’s calendar and reserve the gazebo for you. You do have to apply for a separate permit for each instance, but I can speed things through for you with only one application to cover all the nights this summer. If you go beyond summer, we’ll need to talk again.”
“Thank you for fast-tracking things, Gladys.”
“The city does require a fee of one hundred dollars for every four hours of use. If you use less time, it’s still the same fee. If you go over the specified four hours, it’s an additional seventy-five dollars per hour.”
“I’m not worried about the money,” he told her. “I’m wanting to give back to this community because they’ve welcomed me so warmly.”
“You can write a check or pay by credit card,” she explained. “Pay for one event at a time or all together.”
“It’ll be easier for me if I do the one payment.” Dax was fortunate he had the funds to do so. He knew others trying to set up a series of events weren’t so fortunate.
“Can you stop by at ten tomorrow morning?” Gladys asked. “I’ll have the applications printed out for you and ready to go.”
“I have a ten-thirty voice lesson with Sylvia Moore. I think she’ll let me bump that.”
“Oh, this won’t take ten minutes of your time, Dax,” Gladys assured him. “I’ll make certain you make it to Sylvia’s on time.”
He shook her hand. “Thank you for helping me with this matter, Gladys. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Scott told Dax he could handle the rest of the day, freeing Dax to head out for a run. As he pounded the pavement, a new song began to form in his mind. He cut his run short and returned to his apartment, quickly showering, humming the melody in order to keep it going. Sometimes, the music came to him first. Sometimes, the lyrics were what appeared.
He quickly toweled off and dressed, turning on his cell’s video to record as he grabbed his guitar and began tinkering with the chords.
By the time Ivy arrived, he had the music completed, as well as one verse and the chorus in place. He played it for her, delighting in her excitement.
“I can’t believe you’ve written this much today. Does a song always come so quickly to you?”
“Not really. And remember, I’ve had a long layoff from songwriting. I’m having to understand what my new process is.”
He set down his guitar. “I can work on it again tomorrow. Right now, I need my Ivy time.”
He pulled her into his lap, and they made out like teenagers after a Friday night football game. Dax wondered if he would ever get his fill of this woman.
Breaking the kiss, he said, “We’ve got two things on the agenda tonight.”
She arched a brow. “Oh, we have an agenda?”
“We do. Eat. Make love. I’ll let you choose the order.”
The dimple in her cheek flashed. “That’s a no-brainer, Dallas.”
Ivy took the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. Laughing, Dax did the same with the Lost Creek Vineyards shirt she wore. Beneath it was a black, lacy bra with a convenient front clasp. His hands quickly opened it, pushing the material aside so he could feast on her full breasts. As he did, she wriggled out of the bra, making very Ivy-like noises which let him know he was definitely on the right track.
Dax began sucking on one breast, kneading the other, as she moved in his lap. Her hands pushed into his hair, and she held him close to her. The vanilla scent wafted up from her smooth skin, teasing him. He licked in a lazy circle around her nipple, each time shrinking the size of the circle, coming closer and closer. Then he flicked his tongue across it, her whimper causing his own desire to flame. He began sucking again, hard, hearing her mewl. Her hips rose moving against him, and then she cried out. Dax sucked even harder, hearing her cries of satisfaction.
She stilled. He lifted his head, seizing her mouth, drinking from her greedily.
Ivy broke the kiss. “I had an orgasm just then. And all you did was tease my breast!” she added, wonder on her face.
“I’ve heard that can happen to some women.”
She grew serious. “Dax, I’d never had an orgasm before last night.”
He frowned. “Never?”
“Never. This is all so new to me. I think… I think the difference is because I love you. You have all my heart, Dax. Every bit of it.”
He kissed her gently. “You have mine, too, Ivy.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Why don’t we shed the rest of our clothes and go have some more fun, Dallas?”
“I like how you think, Professor.”
Dax carried Ivy to the bedroom.
They forgot all about dinner.