“Need this. After your bath, have a nap. I’ll change the sheets right now.”

  “Why are you being so kind?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “Most people do.”

  He shrugged. “I was raised by a single mom. My dad was an abusive asshole and it took her a long time to work up the courage to leave him. She was strong for my sister and I. But I could tell when she was barely hanging on by a thread. When she was close to a breaking point. And maybe I’m wrong, but I see similar signs in you. So, I couldn’t really help my mom back then because I was just a kid. But I can help you now.” He offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Life is all about balance.” Then he left her in the bathroom, and closed the door behind himself. Glancing toward the ceiling, he smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you when you needed it most, Mom. I hope you’re at peace now.”

  The bath and nap were exactly what Jennifer needed to recharge her battery.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so rested or a peace.

  By the time she emerged from Dax’s bedroom, her phone said it was nearly two in the afternoon. Gloria and Phil were in the living room watching a movie while Gloria knitted, but she couldn’t find Levi or Dax anywhere.

  “You look better,” Gloria said, smiling at her before refocusing on her knitting. “Boys are out in the barn.”

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said. “Hopefully Levi wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “That boy’s never trouble,” Phil said. “You know that. You’re raising a good one.”

  Jennifer’s cheeks grew hot at his compliment as she went to the front door and put on her boots and coat.

  “Tell Levi I’m going to bake some cookies and maybe a pie if he wants to come in and help me,” Gloria said. “I just need to finish this part of the blanket.”

  Nodding, Jennifer pulled her hood up over her head and ducked out into the rain and wind.

  The weather hadn’t let up at all.

  Mother Nature really had a bug up her ass this time.

  And rightfully so. The world was full of shitheads who were destroying so much of the earth for their own selfish gains.

  She entered the warm, hay-scented barn, keeping her ears peeled for any sounds of her son.

  But she heard none.

  Levi was not a quiet kid. Where could he be?

  Terror filled her instantly.

  “Levi?” she hollered, racing down the length of the barn to the meh and bray of goats on either side. “Levi!”

  “Mom?”

  She glanced up to see his unruly brown mop hanging over the railing. “We’re up here. Dax is showing me his art and he’s teaching me the guitar.”

  A second later, Dax appeared. He tilted his head to the side curiously, but then understanding quickly filled his gaze. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She found the stairs that took her to the loft and by the time she joined them, her heartrate had returned to normal.

  “Isn’t this cool?” Levi asked her as she followed him into the brightly lit art studio. Drop cloths were everywhere, along with canvas, both painted on and empty. Paint cans and tubs were stacked up on various shelves and even though the shiplap walls had been white, they were no longer pristine anymore and had paint splatters all over them. “And he doesn’t use brushes. He uses these things.” Levi picked up a narrow putty knife.

  She reached what had to be Dax’s current work in progress. It was a tall, narrow piece, probably three feet wide by six feet tall. And it was stunning.

  He liked to use a lot of texture, and played around with shadows. His color palate was mostly black, yellow, blue and red, with the odd splash of orange, white or turquoise. But there was no shading. It was monochromatic, with thick, chucky strokes of the putty knife.

  It was unique, but also beautiful.

  “What is this one going to be?” she asked, pointing to the one on the easel.

  “I paint a lot of my life in music. This one is actually a commission. A guitarist down in LA has hired me to paint him on stage holding his guitar.” He traced the outline he’d created, and indicated some of the pencil lines he’d drawn. “But it’s taking me forever. I’m just not feeling it. I dunno why.”

  “And when you’re not feeling it, how do you overcome that creative block?” She continued to wander through the space and into the next room which she could tell was soundproof and full of musical instruments. There was even a small recording studio set up.

  “I just switch to a different medium. I’ll mess around on the guitar. Write a song. Just go crazy on the drums. Just stretch my brain in a different way.”

  “Dax taught me to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on the electric guitar,” Levi said, running over to where a very expensive looking guitar sat on it’s stand in the corner. He went to pick it up.

  “Don’t touch,” Jennifer blurted out.

  Levi hesitated, totally crushed. He appealed to Dax.

  “It’s fine,” Dax said, taking long strides over to Levi and picking up the guitar. “Remember to sit down since this isn’t quite the right size for you. It’ll just make it easier to play.”

  Levi nodded and sat down on the red velour chair, then accepted the guitar into his lap. He carefully arranged his fingers on the frets, and Dax plugged the guitar into the amp.

  “Show your mom how you’re going to become a rock star,” Dax said with amusement.

  It was a slow ballad, with several botched chords, but she could still tell it was Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. However, it was the absolute delight and joy in her son’s eyes and on his face that really stole the show. Jennifer wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Levi that happy or excited about something.

  “Do you think I could start taking guitar lessons, Mom?” he asked, letting Dax stow the guitar on the stand again.

  “We can talk about it,” she said. “Gloria said she’s going to bake cookies and a pie if you want to help her.”

  “What kind of pie?” Levi asked.

  “She didn’t say.”

  “Does it matter?” Dax asked with a chuckle.

  Levi paused for a moment, then shrugged and shook his head. “No. Not really. Okay, I’m going to go help Gloria. I hope you had a good nap, Mom.” Then he headed down the stairs, his boots clomping echoing all the way down.

  They waited until the door to the barn slammed shut.

  “I understand your fear and wariness of me. And I know there’s nothing I can say to truly reassure you, but your son is safe with me. I would never hurt him. Or any child. Or any woman.” His eyes widened. “Or any person.”

  Her lips pressed together and she nodded. “I believe you. I just … Levi’s father is in prison. And when Levi was a baby, he beat me and left me for dead, then kidnapped Levi. He drugged him so he fell asleep and didn’t make a fuss. Then he snuck into his ex-girlfriend’s house and tried to kill her and her new boyfriend.”

  Dax shoved his fingers into his hair and shook his head. “Jesus.”

  “Yeah, it was a nightmare. Emma and Tom dated for a while. Then she left to go teach English in China. I didn’t know they never broke up and started seeing Tom. I got pregnant and almost as soon as Levi was born things got really bad. It took a lot for me to leave him. And leaving him was what triggered him to attack me and kidnap Levi. So anytime I can’t find my son, I go a little crazy. Worst case scenario and all.”

  “I’m really sorry you went through that.”

  She took a seat in the red velour chair Levi had been in. “I mean it’s been ten years, and yet sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday. I don’t think I’ll ever not have a reaction like that when I can’t find my kid.”

  “And I don’t blame you.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  He nodded. “I was. For a brief time.” Then he sighed. “I’ve only had one great love, though. And it was an instance of wrong place, wrong time and a lot of miscommunication. We were young. Music was my life and she thought I was playing the field while on the road. I wasn’t. She got pregnant. Never told me. Lost the baby. Never told me. Then suddenly disappeared. She moved to The Netherlands on an exchange. Broke my heart.”

  “But that wasn’t your wife?”

  He sat down on the blue velour couch across from her. “No. Amy Shaw was never my wife. I married Sharla and we were in love, but … I think part of the reason we never worked out was because I was still hung up on Amy. I never got that closure. So it was like there was a third person in our marriage. Which wasn’t fair to Sharla. I didn’t put in the work to keep her.”

  “Amy Shaw?”

  He blinked at her. “Yeah, why? Do you know her?”

  “Does she have a brother?”

  “Yesssss. James Shaw. Do you know him?”

  Her eyes went wide. “James’s wife Emma was my ex, Tom’s girlfriend. The one who he cheated on with me.”

  “So wait a minute. Your ex—”

  “Tom.”

  “Right. Tom. So Tom dated Emma. Who is married to James. Who is the brother of Amy. Who is my ex?”

  She nodded slowly. “I think so.”

  “I will also add, Amy and James own Block 9 in Vancouver. It’s a really prestigious gallery and they carry a lot of my art.”

  “Okaaaayyy.” Worry prickled the back of her neck.

  A slow smile crept to his lips. “Small fucking world, eh?”

  “Are you still in love with Amy?” she asked, inwardly cringing at how he must think she was some jealous idiot. They were friends. Nothing more. And yet the idea of him still being in love with Amy gutted her to the bone.

  He shook his head. “No. We’ve talked since. Come to an understanding. I have my closure and I’ve moved on. My heart has moved on.” He pulled up the sleeve of his Henley to reveal a heart tattoo with a guitar piercing through it rather than an arrow. “I even covered up her initials in the heart.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Okay, so married and divorced, but no kids?”

  Something sad flickered in his gaze. “No kids. I wanted them. But besides the baby Amy lost, I haven’t been blessed.” He scratched at the back of his neck and his cheeks filled with color. “I hope there aren’t any little versions of me running around out there from some of my one-night stand dalliances while on tour. But I guess it’s possible.”

  That made her smile. “Be honest, if someone knocked on your door and was like ‘Daddy!’ you’d be excited.”

  Now he was grinning. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

  She glanced around at all the instruments. There were at least six guitars that she could see. A couple of basses, a drum set, a keyboard, a standup piano, and even a saxophone case in the corner. “Play me something.”

  It only took him a moment before he nodded, stood up and grabbed the same guitar he’d let Levi use. First, he started to strum just random, beautiful tunes that she couldn’t recognize. But soon, he fell into a song, shut his eyes and let his fingers and soul do the work.

  It only took her a moment to recognize the song.

  He was playing Unstoppable by Sia.

  Emotion clogged her throat as he reached the chorus and she sung the powerful words in her head. This man had really struck a chord inside of her. He was good and kind and patient. He connected with her son, and lo and behold they had an even deeper connection. What were the odds of Tom’s ex being married to Dax’s ex’s brother?

  She already knew that he was doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart, because even though they were few and far between, good guys still existed. But was it wrong of her to hope he was open to more? That there was a reason her battery wouldn’t start behind his truck. And then he was behind her on the road when she was struck by the Tesla. And he had a house with a woodstove and a generator.

  It wasn’t just pure coincidence, right?

  After an endless stream of bad choices when it came to men, was the universe finally throwing her a bone and presenting her with a good one?

  She’d be an idiot to ignore the signs. To ignore the stirring feelings in her belly.

  When the song ended, he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

  She met his gaze. “Kiss me.”

  He blinked for a moment. “I’m not expecting—”

  “I know. Kiss me.”

  Conviction filled his eyes and he nodded, stood up and set the guitar back in its stand before he wrapped his hand behind the back of her head and took her mouth.

  Nothing in Jennifer’s life had ever made sense until that moment. Or at least nothing made clearer sense than Dax’s lips on hers. Than Dax cradling her head, taking her mouth and filling her heart with hope.

  After a moment, he pulled away, studying her. Checking in.

  She blinked at him, her chest heaving. “Again.” Then she grappled at him, reaching for the hem of his Henley and peeling it over his head.

  He stopped her once his shirt was off, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. His gaze roamed her face. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Like fireworks erupting inside of her, everything turned hot and sparkly. She stood up, tore off her coat, then peeled her long-sleeve black shirt over her head.

  They were both shirtless, standing there, out of breath.

  It was only for a few heartbeats, though, before they crashed back together and he guided her over to the blue velour couch, slowly lowering her and covering her with his hard body, their lips never coming unconnected.

  She reached for the button of his jeans, but he moved his hand there to stop her. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I …” She exhaled, then growled and shut her eyes briefly. “Right. And I went off birth control three years ago because it was giving me horrible side effects.”

  Leave it to responsibility and adult logic to sober the mood.

  His head tilted to the side. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.” He sunk to his knees and reached for the waistband of her dark gray leggings, pulling them, along with her underwear down over her legs to her ankles.

  “You don’t have to,” she said, closing her knees and twisting away. “I know it’s—”

  “It’s what?”

  “Not your job.”

  “No. It’s not.” He scrunched his nose in a cute way. “I’d consider it a hobby if anything. Because I enjoy it. And I would very much like to do it for you.”

  “Y-you want to?”

  His brows knitted to a V. “Jennifer, have you never had a man go down on you before?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head.

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  He exhaled. “Well, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for then, don’t we?” Then he gently spread her knees and inched his face forward, flicking out his tongue. He hit her clit and her entire body nearly leaped off the couch. “Just relax,” he purred, placing a big hand on her lower belly to help hold her still. “Close your eyes and stop overthinking things.”

  Swallowing, she did as she was told and shut her eyes.

  What came next was nothing short of incredible.

  His tongue laved at her clit in soft concentric circles before dipping down lower to her center, probing inside and then sweeping all the way up again.

  Gently, he pressed one finger, then two inside her, crooking them forward until he really had to press down with his other hand to keep her pelvis from becoming airborne.

  Sure, she’d had sex before and even orgasmed from time to time with a man. And she also on occasion masturbated. Usually when she was having a hard time sleeping or had read a particularly spicy chapter in one of her romance books. And she’d certainly read about the heroines in her novels getting oral sex from men, but she always figured the authors were overselling it. Because surely, of at least the four men she’d been with in her life, one would have wanted to go down on her, right?

  That’s when a terrifying thought hit her and she shoved up and away from Dax, kneeing him in the head in the process before she slammed her thighs closed.

  He pressed his hand to his head, his eyes shut. “What happened?” he asked, in a daze. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Do I taste bad?” she blurted. “Do I have a funny or weird, or gross smell down there?”

  Still rubbing his head where she’d hit him with her knee, he peeled one gray eye open, the flecks of silver around his irises glowing like tinsel on a Christmas tree under the overhead lights. “What?”

  “D-do I taste bad?”

  “Why would you ask me such a thing?”

  “B-because … I’ve been with four men in my life. Only four. I know that number is low, but it is what it is. I’m a serial monogamist. And I don’t put out on the first date.” She paused. “I mean, this is a first for me. I don’t normally do … this. And this isn’t even a date.” She slammed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “Oh god. Is that worse? That we haven’t even been on a date and we’re …?”

  His hand landed on her knee. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re spiralling. Take a deep breath.” He squeezed her knee as she closed her eyes and breathed in and out a few times to calm her nerves. She opened them again and met his gaze once more. “Your number, big or small doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that you think you have a bad taste or smell. Did one of those men say that to you?” Was that anger flickering there in the silver now?

  “You’re the first man who has ever gone down on me. And I thought that, like, the authors of romance novels were overselling how great oral sex was because the four men I’ve been with have never wanted to do it. They never offered. They made me do it for them, but they never even presented it as an option. Their pleasure came first. So then I started to wonder maybe it was because I tasted bad or smelled bad.”

  “So you kneed me in the head?”

  She scrunched her knees up to her chest and reached for her pants, but Dax caught them before she did and held them out of reach. With a huff, she stuck out her hand for them.

  “No.” He shook his head. “You dated boys, Jennifer. Immature, selfish, idiotic boys. They didn’t deserve you. And you certainly didn’t deserve to be denied well … anything, let alone pleasure.”

 

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