HOLLY opened one eye partway and groaned. “Ten already?”
“Afraid so.” Dax chuckled.
They’d finally returned to the hotel shortly after nine that morning, having picked up a quick bite to eat to tide them over until lunch with Shannon and Gary. Dax had suggested they try to get some sleep before the eleven o’clock check-out. Past experience warned that the injured shoulder would hamper Holly’s ability to shower and dress, so she’d asked him to wake her at ten.
She groaned again and rolled over to bury her face in the pillow. “It can’t be.”
He laughed.
With a sigh, she flopped onto her back, released the pillow, and dragged a less-than-willing body to its feet. “Okay. I’m up. Just don’t expect me to be chipper.”
“I have no such expectation.” He grinned and headed for the connecting door.
She followed in his footsteps, trying not to trip on the carpet as her feet dragged.
“Since we’re checking out this morning, lock the connecting door behind me. I’ll do the same.” Dax halted with his hand on the door in question and turned partway around, looking down when she stopped nearly on his heels. “I’ll come around for you about ten of. Make sure it’s me before you open that door. Okay?”
Holly didn’t see the need for such caution since her father sat in jail, but she wasn’t interested in an argument. Nothing to lose by humoring him. She smiled and nodded.
Dax stared at her for several heartbeats, his expression inscrutable. What was he thinking? His gaze softened, darkened, and dropped to her mouth before connecting with her eyes again. For one breathless moment, she thought he might kiss her. Hoped.
Then his jaw tightened, and his expression turned resolute. He stepped into the next room without a word and pulled the connecting door closed with a decisive click.
With a sigh of disappointment, Holly locked the door. As she showered and dressed, she contemplated the many facets of Dax Donovan to keep her mind off her body’s protests. Her opinion of the man had been turned upside-down and inside-out over the last few days. He wasn’t like her father, as she’d initially believed. She’d never seen her father exhibit the tenderness Dax showed at times. Daddy probably wasn’t even capable of it.
When a knock came on the outer door, she was struggling to brush her hair. One-handed didn’t cut it, not with a long, curly mess. Maybe she should cut it short like Shannon’s. The style was cute, and it looked easy to manage.
Huffing in annoyance, she went to open the door. She glanced through the peephole, remembering Dax’s admonition, then unlocked the door and flung it open to admit him. “You’re just in time. I need help.” She offered the brush.
Dax looked at it with a perplexed expression. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
Holly could have sworn he paled, but she shrugged off the thought. Ridiculous. He had nothing to fear from a hairbrush.
“Help me!” She shook it, frustrated.
~~~
Dax stepped into the room, set his suitcase inside the door, and hesitantly accepted the hairbrush.
Holly pivoted on her heel and returned to the bathroom vanity, picking up something from the counter.
He followed, dragging his feet, his thoughts dashing back to the fact he’d almost kissed her earlier and the reason why he hadn’t.
Holly was giving him no choice but to touch her, stroke hair he’d longed to run fingers through, and they were alone. In a hotel room. Dax’s heart pounded against ribs that were suddenly too restrictive, leaving the very real danger that he might stop breathing. How long could that continue before he passed out?
Everything noble within him declared it dangerous to be alone with Holly right then, and even more so to touch her. Self-control was shaky at best. If he gave in to the nearly irresistible urge to kiss her, he might not stop.
So what? That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, a dark voice deep inside declared.
Shut up. She deserves better. Don’t be a selfish jerk. The gentleman his parents had raised soundly slapped the inner scumbag, who fell silent.
“Dax? Don’t we have to be out of here within the next few minutes?” Her gaze met his in the mirror. She seemed oblivious to the battle he fought.
Not sure whether to be annoyed by that fact or grateful, Dax lifted the brush, steeling himself. As he carefully worked it through Holly’s long curls, one hand guided it, the other in her hair assured that he didn’t yank a knot. Far too intimate for his peace of mind. Slow, mind-blowing torture.
Concentrate on getting through the process as uneventfully and quickly as possible. Ignore the whispered urgings of the annoying, opportunistic scumbag. Holly’s got enough to deal with right now.
Holly yawned and wiped a hand across her eyes then shifted the strap on the sling supporting her left arm, apparently unaware of the effect their proximity, and this activity, had on him. She looked like she could use a few more hours of sleep. Seeing her as even more vulnerable than before… not good for his peace of mind.
He nearly groaned out loud. “Um… I don’t know how to braid hair or anything like that.” Had his voice sounded as strained to her ears as it had to his?
“All you have to do is pull it back.” Holly’s gaze met his reflection again. She offered the band grasped in her fingers.
Dax fumbled through the task as quickly as possible then stepped back. When she turned, he stopped short of tossing the hairbrush at her. He dropped it into her open suitcase then watched her look around to make sure she had everything before she zipped the bag closed. Without a word, he grabbed the handle and headed for the door, picking up his suitcase on the way out. She followed and closed the door behind her after one final, quick glance back.
Outside, Dax stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and took a slow, deep, stabilizing breath. The bands around his chest loosened. He could breathe again. With a soft snort of self-derision, he stepped off the sidewalk and went to the trunk of the car. Holly was half a foot shorter than him, and a good deal lighter, and she terrified him. I hate irony sometimes.
He used the time it took to put luggage in the trunk to get himself back on firm footing. By the time he slammed the trunk, Dax felt better able to face her and joined her on the sidewalk.
They turned toward the hotel office.
He shoved his fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans to keep himself from touching her. “Shannon and Gary won’t be here for about an hour. What do you say we get coffee or something while we wait?”
“As long as I can have pie, we can go anywhere and do anything your heart desires.” A broad grin touched her face.
He nearly choked. She hadn’t intended those words the way he’d heard them, of course. If only…. “The lady gets what the lady wants.”
Holly shot him an odd look.
Noting his husky tone, no doubt. Dax gave her a bland smile, hoping she’d dismiss it. She did.
The next hour could be very long.
He didn’t say anything more as they checked out of the hotel and turned to the café.
“Oh, my goodness, Holly, what happened?” Melanie exclaimed—loudly—the moment they walked in the door.
Everyone in the room turned to look.
Holly blanched. “I’ll be okay, Melanie. Dax and I are early for lunch with Gary and Shannon. Thought we’d have pie and coffee while we wait.”
“Ah, dessert first,” Melanie teased, showing them to a table.
Dax bit back a grin at how efficiently Holly redirected the chipper waitress and followed the two women past several curious onlookers.
Holly nodded to a couple of people but otherwise didn’t acknowledge their curiosity.
Some gazes followed him with just as much interest, but he kept his eyes on Holly and pretended not to notice.
She scooted into a booth, her injured arm against the window. He slipped in beside her, leaving the other bench seat for Gary and Shannon. That apparently served as an invitation to Melanie, who slid into the seat and leaned on the table.
“Okay, spill it.” The waitress lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Did you two get into a rough wrestling match or something?” She grinned wickedly.
Holly blushed profusely.
Dax sat like a lump. How in the world did someone respond to such a suggestive question from a woman they barely knew?
“Melanie, how can you even ask that?” Holly replied after a moment of gape-mouthed silence. Ice cracked at the edge of her gaze.
She’s more than a little indignant. Dax restrained a grin. At least it’s not aimed at me for a change.
“Wishful thinking?” the blond returned, undaunted by Holly’s obvious displeasure. She suddenly grew serious, the change occurring so abruptly that it threw Dax. “It’s better to consider than the alternative.” She shot Dax a speculative look.
He looked at Holly. His turn to be annoyed. “What is it about me that makes people assume I would beat on a woman?” He bit his tongue as soon as the question erupted, wishing he hadn’t asked in light of his conversation with Holly at the hospital. Was his anger issue so apparent to everyone he met?
“It was your dad, wasn’t it?” Melanie asked with disturbingly accurate insight.
Holly nodded, lowering her gaze to the tabletop.
“I’m so sorry, Holly. It’s all my fault.” There was no mistaking the guilt and apology in the woman’s expression.
Dax couldn’t say who was more shocked by that declaration—him or Holly.
“How could it possibly be your fault?” Holly asked.
“Your dad came in last night after you went back to the hotel. I told him you were in town and about Dax being with you.” Melanie leaned her head against her open palm. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should’ve said anything.”
Holly reached across the table for Melanie’s free hand, her eyes misty. “It’s not your fault. It’s his. He chose to hurt me.”
“Thanks.” Melanie offered a weak but grateful smile. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
“Didn’t you have a hearing this morning?” Dax hoped to change the track of the conversation. One crying woman was more than enough to handle. He didn’t need two.
“Yes, I did!” Melanie hopped to her feet and nearly bubbled over with excitement. Melancholy vanished like smoke on a windy day. “Lyle didn’t show up, of course, but the judge finalized it anyway. I’m free as a bird.”
Holly stiffened. “Lyle? Lyle Wells?”
“Yes.” Melanie frowned at Holly’s shocked expression. “I thought Shannon told you I married him.”
Holly shook her head.
Melanie shot her an admiring look. “I wish I’d had your sense. If I had, I’d never have married the creep. You sure dodged a bullet.”
“I’m sorry, Melanie,” Holly said, her gaze sympathetic, and a bit haunted.
Dax wrapped a hand around one of hers and squeezed it gently.
“Don’t worry.” Melanie waved a hand dismissively. “He won’t hurt me anymore. Now that I’m free of him, I plan to get on with my life. School awaits!”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Oh, listen to me going on. You didn’t come here for me to chew your ear off. What can I get for you?”
“Any apple pie today?”
“Yep. Fresh, too. What about you, Deputy Dax?”
“Do you have banana or coconut cream?”
“Mona just laid in coconut cream this morning. I’ll be right back.” She scurried off, making notes on her pad.
Dax and Holly shared amused grins.
Melanie wasn’t gone long, returning quickly with coffee and a hearty slab of pie for each of them.
“Are you kidding me?” Holly said with a faux whine, studying what looked to be a quarter of a pie for each of them. “If I eat all that, I won’t need lunch!”
“Dessert for before and after lunch!” Melanie threw a grin over her shoulder as she walked away.
“Holy cow.”
“I thought it was apple.” Dax grinned and eyed her plate. “I don’t see any cow in that.” He lifted his plate, and his grin broadened. “Now, a cream pie on the other hand….”
Holly laughed. The sound of her amusement warmed him. He could listen to that all day long, every day, for the rest of his life and not get enough.
They ate pie and drank coffee for a few minutes without speaking, giving Dax a chance to study the other patrons.
A guy at the counter wore coveralls bearing the logo and name of a towing company emblazoned across his back.
Two older men who looked like farmers shared a table and were involved in a focused conversation. Neither even looked up when Melanie refilled their coffee.
Three other men wore slacks and dress shirts. One even wore a tie. White-collar workers. One of them kept shifting his attention from his companions to a pretty young woman in a casual dress sitting in a corner by herself, reading a book as she ate. If she noticed his frequent and repeated scrutiny, she gave no indication.
“Tell me about Chase.”
Dax flinched and frowned at Holly’s sudden and unexpected directive. Chase wasn’t one of his favorite topics. “Where did that come from?” Maybe he could divert her to another subject.
“Well, you’ve met my twin sister, and I’m wondering what your twin brother is like.” She shrugged casually.
Too casually. He noted intense interest in her eyes.
“Aside from what your mom told me, I don’t know anything about him. Do you two get along?” Her gaze turned speculative then understanding. “From the look on your face, I’d say probably not.”
“We get along fine.” He barely kept a bite out of his words. It wasn’t a lie. Not really. They didn’t talk unless they had to, so they got along perfectly fine.
“You’re a bad liar, Dax,” she informed him bluntly then turned to look out the window, but not before he saw hurt in her eyes.
He gritted his teeth then decided to pretend it didn’t bother him. His conscience jabbed at the denial, but he tried to ignore it. Some things were simply none of her business. If she couldn’t accept that, it wasn’t his problem. He wasn’t about to let her guilt him into anything. He glared at the back of her head. How long would she give him the silent treatment?
“Melanie?” Holly caught the waitress’s attention as she meandered between tables. “Have you listened to the weather today? It looks like a storm may be coming in.”
Dax glued his mouth shut to keep it from hanging open. There he sat, thinking she was so upset about his refusal to talk that she was moping about it and punishing him with silence. There Holly sat, worrying about the weather? Really? The mixture of relief and annoyance that flickered through him raised his hackles.
“There is. We’ve got it on in the kitchen.” Melanie came alongside the table and glanced out the window. “They said it should hit after dark.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough,” was the solemn response before the blond went to refill coffee for the farmers again.
Dax felt more than saw a tremor go through Holly, then she stared at the tabletop after one more brief glance out the window. Fear had replaced hurt. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
“What did she mean by ‘bad enough’?” He broke the silence.
“There’ll probably be tornado activity,” Holly replied in a matter-of-fact tone that didn’t fool him a bit. Her next words, whispered tremulously, confirmed his suspicion. “I hate this place.”
Powerless, he grasped her hand. He couldn’t claim there was nothing to fear. It would be a lie. She knew that better than him, having grown up with the threat. Could he distract her? It had worked before. He glanced around the room. Not exactly the place to kiss her. So, what else could he try?
Speak truth.
What? He asked before he realized the thought hadn’t been his own. He glanced around. No, it hadn’t come from anyone else in the room. It was that inner feeling again. He squirmed in his seat. What do you want from me?
Speak truth. Trust.
"About what? Dax dreaded the answer, particularly given the fact “trust” was thrown in. Without warning, Chase’s face flashed through his mind. His stomach clenched. You don’t want much, do you?
No response to his sarcasm.
“Are you willing to change for her?” Mom’s words from early that morning returned to haunt him.
Shifting his attention to Holly, he cleared his throat. You better be right about this! “You’d like Chase.”
Holly shot him a surprised look he pretended not to notice.
“He’s nothing like me really, except for a stubborn streak that doesn’t quit. We both inherited that,” he added with a self-conscious grin. “Nothing makes him mad. It’s kind of eerie actually. I think he’s the only person I’ve ever met that I couldn’t tick off. Trust me, I’ve tried. I’ve even teased him about being born defective.”
“That sounds like something a sibling would say.” A weak, amused smile replaced the fear-stricken frown on Holly’s face.
“What I told you wasn’t exactly a lie,” he said with a quick back and forth rocking motion of his head.
She gave him a dubious look.
“Chase and I don’t talk much anymore. As long as we don’t talk, we get along fine. I guess you could call it a fragile truce, and it’s strictly for Mom’s sake. She gets upset when we argue.”
“What could you possibly find to argue about that would be so bad?”
“God. Chase is one of those really annoying people who never has a moment of doubt about God. It seems like no matter what he goes through, his faith stands up to the test with very little effort.” Dax wrapped both hands around his coffee, staring into the dark dregs in the bottom of the nearly empty cup. “Just before he and Jordan were to be married, she was kidnapped by a real nutjob. Long story short, we found her ten days later. I was one of the first on-scene.” He frowned. He’d never told anyone, but he still had nightmares sometimes about what he’d seen that day.
Holly laid a hand on his arm.
“When she went missing, some people said she got cold feet and took off. Chase refused to believe it. He never doubted her, not even for a single moment as far as I know, and he was adamant that God would take care of her and lead us to her. I figured he was in denial, refusing to admit how afraid he was, but we found her. Despite the odds, given her physical state, she didn’t suffer permanent damage. Even the doctors were shocked.”
“Did that change your perception of God?”
The question sounded somewhat cautious to his ears. “You could say that, but not in the way my family hoped. Until then, I figured He simply didn’t exist, and if He did, He certainly didn’t care about the things we go through down here. After that, I decided He really is out there. It’s just me He doesn’t care about. Some of us are worth His notice, and some of us aren’t. I’m in the latter group.”
Holly’s hand tightened on his arm.
He laid a hand over it and squeezed slightly.
“The Christmas after Chase and Jordan married, Mom asked all of us to attend Christmas service as a family since Anthony was home from med school. I told her I wouldn’t walk through those doors and pretend everything was hunky dory between me and God. Mom accepted that. Chase set out to change my mind. The more he hammered me, the madder I got, but he wouldn’t quit. When he accused me of being selfish and not caring about Mom, I laid him flat out on the floor.”
“You hit him?” Holly’s brows disappeared behind her bangs, eyes wide with shock.
“Yeah. I think I was more shocked than he was.” Regret hit with a resounding thud. He never should’ve struck Chase. He should’ve walked away before he got mad enough to respond with violence. Yeah, so Chase had provoked him. That’s what he’d told himself for years, but it did nothing to assuage the guilt over hurting his brother. Nothing justified his actions. He really had been on the road Mr. Randall walked. He shuddered inside.
“Did he get mad at you?”
“Of course not. He just sat there looking shocked and hurt. Then he covered my butt instead of ratting me out when everybody else came in and asked what had happened.”
“Did you go to church with the family?”
“No.”
“So he was too stubborn to give up on you, and you were too stubborn to let him win and make you do something you didn’t want to do.”
Dax had to smile. She made it sound so simple. “Basically.”
Holly stared at him thoughtfully for a long time.
He forced his backside to remain still in his seat while she took a couple of sips of coffee, rolling some thought around in her head. Leaning back in his seat, Dax shifted his legs under the table, anything to give him a reason to move without appearing restless under her scrutiny.
“You know, I think you’re right,” she said when he thought he might jump up to pace.
He frowned in surprise. “About what?”
“Chase has to be defective.”
A laugh erupted from his chest. “You think so?”
“Absolutely. No normal person never gets mad.” Holly studied him again, her expression thoughtful but no longer intense. “I’m sure I’d like him, but I doubt he’d understand my temper. Probably just make me feel worse about it actually. You understand it.” An almost shy smile curled her lips, and she looked away. “I’m sure I like you way more than I’d like him.”
Dax’s heart leapt, inexplicable joy exploding inside, erasing the emotional difficulty of the last few minutes. He grinned and reached out to brush the knuckles of one hand down her cheek.
Her gaze cautiously rose to his.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He leaned forward to gently touch Holly’s lips with his. Mindful of their surroundings, and observers, he forced himself to keep the contact light and short. His gaze locked with hers as he drew back. “I certainly like you way more than I like him,” he added mischievously.
She grinned.
“You care to tell me what exactly your intentions are, Mr. Donovan?”
Dax swung his gaze around to confront a tall, stocky man who glared down at him, arms crossed over his chest, feet braced for a fight. Confused, Dax rose to his feet but didn’t respond. Who is this guy?
“Gary, stop messing with Dax before you scare him off or cause a fight.” Shannon popped out from behind him. She lightly swatted the big bruiser’s arm and slid into the seat across from Holly.
Gary’s stern face broke into an open, friendly grin as he thrust out his hand.
Dax took it with a relieved shake of his head.
“I’m only sort of messing with him, honey. I really do want to know his intentions where Holly’s concerned.” His gaze was both teasing and serious.
Dax studied him briefly, recalling the few things Holly had said about the man. Whatever she thought of Gary, it was obvious the man cared about her and her welfare. Dax could respect that.
He released the man’s hand. Their gazes locked. “I assure you, I have only honorable intentions.” No matter what ideas the inner scumbag might conjure up.
Gary studied him intently for a moment then nodded with satisfaction. “Okay, then.”
They slid into the booth and relaxed.