Chapter 23
Dax pounded the pavement of the empty streets of Lost Creek, despondency filling him. He hadn’t slept after Ivy walked out. He hated to have forced her out that door, but he knew it was the best thing for her and her career. She had great things ahead of her and didn’t need to continue looking back.
He ran twice as long as he usually did, to the point of exhaustion, hoping if he wore out his body, he wouldn’t feel the anguish filling him. Returning down Main Street, heading to his apartment, he realized no amount of pushing himself beyond his limits would ever make the truth go away.
He loved Ivy Hart. And he would never love anyone else again.
Deliberately, Dax focused straight ahead, not looking at the gigantic mural he would see every day of his life. The one which would remind him of the woman he would never forget.
In his apartment, he stood in the shower stall so long, the water finally ran cold. It was important to keep busy, but working the Sunday morning after the final Harmony Hues was the last thing he could face doing. He couldn’t smile at all the customers congratulating him on the series. Not when his soul had been shattered.
Grabbing the keys to his truck, Dax went downstairs and drove aimlessly for hours through the Hill Country. It seemed that every vista he passed reminded him of Ivy. They had taken many trips in his truck, driving around and stopping so she might sketch a place. His throat swelled with unshed tears, wanting her desperately, knowing she would always be just out of his grasp.
Dax drove into San Antonio, a place he’d never been before, and got out to stretch his legs, walking along the lengthy Riverwalk. Being a Sunday, he saw couples everywhere, strolling hand-in-hand, or families corralling laughing children. He hadn’t dreamed ahead enough to think about the children he would have with Ivy, but it would have been a natural progression of their relationship. Now, he knew he would always be alone. By choice. No one would be able to bring the sunshine into his life the way Ivy had.
He returned to his truck, driving again through the Hill Country. When his stomach grumbled loudly, protesting that he hadn’t fueled it, he pulled in at the next town’s Dairy Queen. One bite into his Hungr-Buster, Dax found he couldn’t swallow. He tossed it in the trash.
Driving on, he went through many of the small towns he had passed through when choosing the place to settle and start Java Junction. He couldn’t imagine staying in Lost Creek with Ivy gone. There would be too many reminders of her. Maybe he could go from town to town in the region, starting up a Java Junction in each of them, even beginning a Harmony Hues series in every different place. Scott Bartlett would be the perfect manager to take over in Lost Creek for Dax. The cop was personable and efficient. Dax could see himself staying in a place for several months and then moving on, leaving a new Java Junction behind.
One thing he knew for certain. He would never perform live again. At this point, he couldn’t even imagine picking up and playing a guitar. Eventually, he hoped he might seek solace in his music. Now, he was too raw to want to do so.
Finally, he came full circle, with Lost Creek the next town he would hit. Passing Lost Creek Winery, he turned in, as if he had no willpower, and drove past the tasting room. Since it was almost seven, he knew Ivy would have already closed and headed home. No cars stood in front of the building. He cursed aloud for even allowing himself to be here. Quickly, he left the winery, hoping no one had seen him.
Instead of returning to an empty apartment, Dax drove to Lost Creek Lake. It had been a favorite place of his and Ivy’s, and he wanted to be close to her in the only way he knew how. It would give him a place to think about starting a Java Junction in places such as Burnet and Boerne.
When he pulled into an area to park, he slammed his foot on the brake.
Ivy’s car sat in the parking lot.
Quickly, he scanned the area, spying her at the water’s edge. The noise his truck had made had drawn her attention, though, and she stared at him.
He didn’t want any animosity between them. Or any awkwardness. Dax decided to be the man Ivy believed him to be and pulled into a parking spot. He would wish her the best, hoping they could end on a better note this time.
She watched him get out of his truck. As he moved toward her, the ache which had filled him all day now throbbed painfully. Still, Dax pushed forward, meeting Ivy halfway.
“I hoped you would come here,” she said softly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“I’m sorry we left things the way did between us,” he told her. “I hope that we?—”
“Wait,” she said, placing her palm flat against his chest.
Her touch almost had him coming undone. A rush of emotions filled him, and he had to take a step back and break the contact between them.
Hurt filled her face, but she pulled herself together and stoically said, “I need to say some things to you.”
He started to speak, and she held up her hand to silence him. “No, let me finish. I have to get this out.”
Ivy stepped away from him, and Dax blindly followed her. She climbed upon a picnic table, sitting atop it, resting her feet on its bench. Dax joined her, making sure he didn’t sit close enough to touch her. Still, her vanilla scent seemed to swirl about him.
“I was angry when I left you.” She smiled ruefully. “If I’m being honest, I still am. Because the one thing I’ve always appreciated about our relationship is how well we’ve communicated with one another. We did a lousy job of that last night. I should have been up front and told you what Jameson Polk had suggested to me.”
She hesitated. “But you were guilty of being judge and jury regarding the two of us.”
Dax kept silent, neither reacting nor responding, giving Ivy the space she needed to say whatever she wished. He owed that much to her.
“You chose to end our relationship without consulting me, Dax. That hurt. A lot. I had always looked at us as equal partners, and suddenly, you took the wheel and drove the car off a cliff. You claimed you were doing it because it would be best for me, but did you ever ask what I might want for myself?”
Guilt flooded him as Ivy studied him with her large, hazel eyes.
“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. I demanded you paint full-time so you could reach your potential. Because I did think it was best for your career. Ivy, I didn’t want to hold you back. Not with the kind of opportunity Polk was presenting to you.”
She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. Warmth enveloped him.
“I’ve already lived for several years with a job which consumed my every waking moment. I promised myself that I would never let that happen again.”
Ivy’s gaze met his. “I like my life exactly how it is, Dax. I need the balance in my life I have now. Yes, I believe I’m a talented artist. That I can sell my paintings. But do I want to paint ninety hours a week, with no life beyond that?”
She shook her head. “I enjoy being a part of my family’s business. Sharing my knowledge of wine with people who come in for tastings. It’s a great outlet for me. I’ve always been a bit reserved. Meeting people at the tasting room brings out a side of me I really like. One which makes me happy. I’ve hit upon the perfect balance of being able to paint mornings and work in the tasting room afternoons.”
Squeezing his hand, she said, “But more importantly, I have you in my life. I am the artist I am because of you, Dax. And Lost Creek. I need to live in the Hill Country, not a cosmopolitan city such as Dallas. My roots are here. Inspiration surrounds me. If I hit a point where I’m stuck? I can just jump in the car and drive around, soaking up the landscape. The Hill Country is my inspiration. If I left it, my desire to paint would wither. And if I left you? I would be leaving behind my heart and soul.”
She touched her fingers to his cheek. “I don’t want to leave Lost Creek, Dax. I don’t want to leave you. I’m fulfilled living here. Painting here. Being with family and friends. I’ve discovered that true artistry is rooted in passion. In authenticity. In human connections.
“And my greatest, strongest, most lasting connection is with you.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I was becoming a better man because of you, Ivy. Because of my love for you and what we had together. I’m sorry I was such an ass and mansplained that you needed to go to Dallas to succeed.”
“You were pretty much like a caveman, weren’t you?” The corners of her mouth turned up in a knowing smile.
“I was,” he agreed, smiling back at her, his heart soaring. “We’re in this together—for better or worse. If you will have me, I promise never to pull a stupid stunt like that again. Anything that comes up, we talk it out. We talk it to death. But we make all decisions together. As equals.”
They moved toward one another, lips touching. Dax poured all the love he had for this woman into the kiss, wanting to assure her that he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
He broke the kiss, grinning at her. “I suppose we hold the record for shortest breakup in Lost Creek Texas.”
She laughed, a musical sound which he would never grow tired of hearing.
“Not by a long shot, Dallas. Harper and Danny Tucker hold that record. They broke up between third and fourth period in ninth grade. After fourth period, they got back together at lunch.”
“Tell me the story,” he encouraged, scooting close to her and wrapping his arm about her waist, savoring that intoxicating smell of vanilla.
“Well, Harper was in Spanish third period when Tandy Johnson told her that Danny had been kissing one of the JV cheerleaders that morning before homeroom. If anything, Harper values loyalty, and she about blew a gasket. She fired off a note, breaking up with Danny. Gave it to me at our lockers since I had fourth period biology with Danny. She told me to give him the note and tell him they were done.
“I delivered her message and handed him her note. He unfolded it and began writing one of his own after he’d read it.” Ivy chuckled. “Of course, being a guy, Danny had no idea how to fold it up intricately and just folded the page, shoving it at me, and telling me to give it to Harper.”
“The perfect messenger,” he said, giving her waist a squeeze.
“When the bell rang, I went to lunch and found Harper at our usual table. I handed over Danny’s note, and she read it, her face going from stone to a smile. Harper stood and looked across the cafeteria, where Danny ate with the other freshman football jocks. He stood and began walking toward her.”
“Ah, a reunion in front of the entire school,” Dax said. “How romantic.”
“Everyone in the cafeteria figured out something was going on. Things got super quiet. Harper deliberately stopped right beside Tandy’s table—and dropped Danny’s note on top of Tandy’s sandwich. By then, Danny had reached Harper, and they locked lips in what became known as The Kiss. Capital T. Capital K. The Kiss.”
“I like Harper’s style,” he said.
“The assistant principal and some coach pried Harper and Danny apart as the entire cafeteria cheered and hooted. As they were led out, Harper looked over her shoulder and hollered, telling Tandy that people would forget The Kiss, but they would never forget what a liar Tandy was and how she’d deliberately tried to break Harper and Danny up.”
“I’m guessing Tandy wanted Danny for herself,” Dax said.
“She did. She had actually told Danny earlier the same morning that Harper had been spotted kissing the JV’s quarterback and was going to break up with Danny. Tandy encouraged Danny to be the one who made the first move so he wouldn’t be humiliated. She even offered to be the shoulder he cried upon. Danny had been smart enough to see through the ruse and had blown off Tandy. She was so upset, that’s why she told Harper Danny was cheating on her. Anyway, The Kiss became legendary at Lost Creek High School.”
“Since Harper is with Braden and not Danny Tucker, what happened to their romance?” he asked, loving Ivy’s narration of the incident. Loving being with her.
Loving her.
“Danny’s parents divorced three months later. He and his mom moved to Oklahoma since she had relatives in Ada. Harper ran into him in Dallas at the Texas-OU game—or the OU-Texas game—as Danny called it. He introduced Harper to the girl he was with, and she knew all about The Kiss. When Danny hugged Harper goodbye, he whispered in her ear that he’d found the girl he was going to marry. A year later, after college graduation, Harper attended their wedding.”
“And Tandy?”
Ivy shrugged. “She moved at the end of that freshman year. I don’t recall where. But I remember she sent Harper a Facebook friend request and started following her on Insta.” Grinning, she added, “Harper blocked her both places.”
Dax kissed Ivy. “I like hearing stories about you and your family.”
“That was more about Harper than me.”
He gave her a look of mock horror. “How could you forget your major role leading to The Kiss? The critical note passer to both parties. You’re undervaluing your contribution, Ivy.”
She laughed, kissing him again. “I hadn’t thought about The Kiss in years. I guess Braden needs to hear that story, too. He’d get a kick out of it. Fortunately, Harper is not a hothead anymore. She was quick to judge Danny, based solely upon what Tandy told her. Harper and I talked about it at length after it happened. Years later, she told me that was the day she felt as if she started to mature.”
Taking her hands in his, Dax said, “I know we have a lot to talk about. Including our future. I’m not formally asking you to marry me now, Ivy, but that day will come. For now, I simply need you to know that I plan for us to be together for a very long time. Like cemetery plots next to one another long time. Are you in this for the long haul?”
She sighed dramatically. “You tried to get rid of me once, Dax. I think you’re stuck with me. Correction—we’re stuck with each other.”
“Then let’s go back to my place and have mind-blowing make up sex. I think that’s a requirement.”
A slow smile spread across her beautiful face. “You’re on, Dallas. And this time? I’m going to be the one to make you scream.”