Читать книгу Forever Wild - Allyson Charles - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Dax woke with a warm body curled against his side. He stretched, turning into it, and a tongue corkscrewed into his ear. Jerking backward, he blinked at the hairy face of the Bluetick grinning back at him.

He dropped his head to the pillow with a sigh. For a moment he’d thought … Well, no matter. Even if Lissa had climbed into his bed, it wasn’t as though he had much to give her right now.

Dax pressed the heel of his palm into his eye socket and scratched the Coonhound behind the ear with the other. He was exhausted from staying up most of the night trying to do research. And what had he accomplished? One page of scribbled notes on the small notepad the motel provided.

His meeting today wasn’t going to be pretty.

He rolled out of bed and stretched. No matter. Even if he didn’t have airtight numbers on a five-year plan going forward, the banker would have to see his idea was a good one. And Dax could be very convincing when he wanted something. He would just have to get Mr. Ted Cooke, head loan officer at Crook County United, excited enough about his idea that he wouldn’t realize Dax’s business plan was anorexic. Maybe take the guy on a tour of his own to show him the potential. He could do that.

Keeping one eye on the clock, Dax got ready. In order to get home in time to shower and change for his meeting, they’d need to get on their way in an hour or so. He knocked on the connecting door to Lissa’s room and started leashing up the dogs. Maybe they could each take half and make the morning walks go more quickly.

The dogs swirled around his legs as he knocked again. “Lissa? You awake yet?” After taking all the dogs out last night, she had said her feet were too sore to go dancing. Judging by the time her TV went off, she’d gone to bed fairly early. She shouldn’t be too tired.

“Lissa?” He pressed his ear against the door but only heard the sound of the dogs huffing and yipping next to him. He opened the door and poked his head through. “Lissa?”

The curtain was open, showing rumpled sheets on an empty bed. The bathroom was dark, empty.

“Huh.”

The Bluetick darted past him and trotted around her room, the attached leash trailing behind him. He sniffed out every corner. When he’d made the circuit, he looked up at Dax and cocked his head, his ears raised into questioning points.

“I don’t know,” Dax told him. “Maybe she’s out getting breakfast.” He checked his watch, adjusting the canvas band. “Well, hopefully when we get back she’ll be here.” He gathered up the leashes and forged out with all eight dogs barking and jockeying for position.

When he returned, after only tripping over the dogs twice, Lissa still wasn’t back.

“Damn it.” He checked his watch again. His meeting was in seven hours and it was a six-hour drive. His stomach slid uneasily. He fed the dogs and loaded them into the van, hoping she would get back by the time he finished. Not that he owed her the ride. She was a stowaway. He could leave whenever he wanted. He rubbed his chest. But it didn’t feel right just ditching her.

He went to her room again, looking for clues. A slew of tourist brochures were spread out on the desk. He fingered through them and picked up the one that had been separated from the stack. He frowned at the glossy postcard.

Graceland. The address was circled in ink. Christ, he had a life-altering meeting to get to and Lissa was getting her Elvis on. He tapped the brochure against his jeans. She couldn’t really expect him to wait for her. No one would blame him if he left. The dogs were his responsibility, not some crazy artist running away from New Orleans.

One with a backpack full of cash she was too naive not to flash around.

He debated his options and grabbed his keys. He was definitely going to head home. He couldn’t miss this meeting. Climbing into the van, he stuck the key in the ignition and cranked it to life. The entrance to the highway was only a couple of blocks down the road. He could be on his way in minutes.

He tensed his fingers around the steering wheel, but his hands refused to turn left to the highway on-ramp. The back of his neck flushed hot, and Dax swore. Plugging the address for Graceland into his phone, he turned right on the street and drove as fast as he could toward his annoying little stowaway without jostling the dogs in back.

It was a cool morning, but he still circled the large parking lot of Graceland looking for a spot under some shade. He slid open all the back windows and made sure the dogs had water before buying a ticket and entering the mecca for thousands of sequin-clad Americans.

Heading for the welcome desk, he found a map of the building and determined the best search pattern. He jogged through the rooms, avoiding tour groups and wannabe impersonators. Finally, he found her in a gallery, her backpack slung over one shoulder and a gift bag in her hand, staring up at a multimedia picture of the King in a furry white suit.

“There you are!” Dax jerked to a halt as two octogenarians in gold lamé jumpsuits toddled in front of him.

Lissa turned, a smile lighting up her face. She was a beautiful woman no doubt, but when she smiled, beautiful didn’t even come close. The curve of her lips matched the way the corners of her eyes crinkled and arched up. She looked radiant. Illuminated from within.

His breath rushed out of him like he’d been punched to the gut. His heart thudded. Was that smile for him? A man could get used to having that directed at him every day. He could—

She walked up to the grandmas and fingered a sequined scarf knotted around one of the woman’s throats. “Great outfits,” Lissa said.

The blue hair cocked a bony hip and said, “Thank you. Thank you very much,” in a deep baritone.

Lissa laughed and waved goodbye before bounding up to Dax. “You found me! Isn’t this place great?”

“No, it’s tacky and my own personal version of hell.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He was an idiot. Of course that smile wasn’t for him. They barely knew each other. “Can we go now?”

“You’re awfully grumpy this morning. Well, grumpier than yesterday.” Lissa narrowed her eyes. “Did that motel burn the biscuits? I told the manager the biscuits and gravy were overcooked. But it was a free meal, so what can you do?” She shrugged.

“I haven’t eaten breakfast.” His stomach chose that moment to make itself heard. Biscuits and gravy, even overcooked, sounded pretty good.

“Well, there’s the problem. No wonder you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not—” Closing his eyes, Dax pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there any place around here I can grab something quick?”

Lissa threaded her arm through his and started walking. “Is there a place to eat?” she scoffed and shook her head. “How does a peanut butter and banana sandwich sound to you?”

“Slightly odd, but I guess the elements are right for a solid breakfast.” He let her lead him into a small café with some grab-and-go options. She picked out a sandwich and juice for each of them and strolled to the cashier.

She waved him away when he drew out his wallet. “This is on me. After you let me hitch a ride, you should have let me pay for your motel room, too.”

“Forever Friends is paying for my motel.” Not that he’d let her pay for him anyway. He might be a twenty-first-century man in a lot of ways, but he still didn’t let women pay for him. His dad would kick his ass if he did. Dax’s throat went thick thinking of his father. He pulled a bill from his wallet.

“Seriously.” Lissa placed a hand on her hip. “It’s a sandwich. I’m paying.” She handed the cashier some money and shoved the change in her back pocket. Her paisley top, the same one she’d worn yesterday, caught in the waistband of her jeans and revealed a triangle of smooth-looking skin.

Dax jerked his gaze upward.

After she grabbed their tray, Dax snuck his bill in the glass tip jar next to the cashier and trotted after her. He glanced at his watch and his shoulders sagged. Well, that was that. He was going to have to apologize for missing the meeting and ask for another. People had to reschedule appointments all the time, he knew. But it didn’t look great when he needed to appear responsible. If the loan officer was already on the fence about giving him money …

Lissa arranged his plate and juice, pulled a napkin from the dispenser on their table, and laid it next to his plate. She flashed him a warm smile as he sat across from her, and some of his tension eased. It had been the right call, not ditching her in Memphis. Lissa was sweet and needed looking after. At least until she could bank her money.

“So what else do you want to see in Memphis?” Lissa unscrewed her bottle of orange juice and watched him as she took a swallow. A stray bead of juice clung to her bottom lip and she flicked out her tongue to swipe it up.

Dax stared at his sandwich. He picked it up and tore out a bite. No ogling the crazy artist. After swallowing, he said, “I didn’t want to see this in the first place. But I couldn’t just leave you. You should have left a note.”

“You found me anyway.” She tilted her head. “You’re not a fan of the King?”

“I grew up on grunge. I don’t even think my parents listened to Elvis.”

Her face screwed up in an adorable expression of disgust. “Grunge?” she tsked. “I can see I was placed in your life for a reason, Dax Cannon. On the rest of this trip, I’ll take control of the radio. When do we have to get back on the road again?”

“Two hours ago.”

A tiny divot creased her forehead. “What?”

He sighed and tossed a bit of crust onto the plate. “Nothing. I had a meeting at four this afternoon, but I’ll have to reschedule it. So, I guess we’re not in a time crunch.”

She reached over the table and grabbed his wrist. She twisted it and her head to check the time. “What are we doing sitting around here? Come on.” Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her bags and his arm. She tugged at him. “Let’s jet.”

He stumbled after her. “It’s okay. There’s no way we’ll make it to Pineville in time.”

“We will if we drive hell for leather.”

They hit the huge parking lot. It was probably half a mile just to the van. “Look, it’s nice of you to want me to make my meeting, but we have to face facts. It’s a long drive to Pineville. There just isn’t time.”

She tossed her long curls over her shoulder and gave him the side-eye. “O ye of little faith. Give me the keys and I promise you we’ll make it with minutes to spare.”

* * * *

“We’re not going to make it.” Dax’s defeatist attitude had been bringing Lissa to ever-more-frequent eye rolls, but this time, she feared he might be right.

She checked the dashboard clock. Even if Dax defied every traffic law known to man, it wouldn’t matter. They’d have to defy the laws of physics to get to Michigan in time.

“If you’d let me drive—”

“I told you, I can’t.” Dax gripped the steering wheel. “You’re not an authorized driver for Forever Friends.”

“Well, if you’d gone more than five miles over the speed limit, we might have had a chance.” Really, the man was more conservative than her fifth-grade teacher, and that had been the one year she’d been enrolled in Catholic school with a ruler-wielding nun at the head of the class.

“If it was just you and me, maybe I would have driven a bit faster.” He jerked a thumb toward the back of the van. “But I don’t want the dogs getting tossed around like a load of laundry.”

Lissa sighed. Why did everything he said have to sound so reasonable? It was really hard to hold his stick-in-the-mud attitude against him when he was acting to protect the animals. Still, no reason to let him stay in his mud pit. “Well, since we’re no longer driving under a ticking clock, how about we have a little fun? This website I was looking at shows the roadside attractions on our way.”

“I’m really not in the mood to look at a big ball of yarn.”

“Okay.” She opened her phone. “I think we can do better than that. Besides, the dogs need to stretch their legs, right?”

Dax’s shoulders unclenched a notch. They lowered from right below his ears to only halfway tensed. “Yeah. And I need to text Mr. Cooke to tell him I won’t make the meeting. Better to do that sooner rather than later.”

“And because you’ll have fun,” she cajoled. “There’s the world’s largest bottle of ketchup?” She looked at his raised eyebrow and then checked for more options. “Okay, how about the Museum of Initiation Pranks? Or the world’s largest knitting needles? That would be a good match for the giant ball of yarn.”

He pursed his lips, considering.

They were sinful lips on a man. Lissa’s artist brain cataloged his features. The bottom one was full, with a small cleft running down the middle that begged for a tongue to trace. The upper one was a bit thinner, making him look strong, decisive. Even though the most boring words seem to pour out of them, if Lissa let her mind drift and just watched those lips as they moved, she could imagine all sorts of sexy things coming from that mouth.

“Initiation pranks sounds promising,” he said, drawing her from her fantasy, “but I don’t want to leave the dogs in the van while we wander around a museum. And unless I can climb those knitting needles, no, thanks.”

She dragged her gaze from his mouth and scrolled down the screen on her phone. “Okay, how about …. oh!” She clutched his arm. “A replica of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Though how anyone can claim to make a replica of an ancient wonder of the world when no one knows how it actually looked is beyond me. But the pictures of the garden look gorgeous!” She held her phone up for him to see.

He spared it a quick glance before focusing back on the road. “If you say so. A garden sounds like a good spot for the dogs to take a break.”

She pulled up the directions. “It’s about forty-five minutes away. Let’s stop for some food first. I’d love to eat lunch in the garden.”

They stopped at a deli, and by the time they pulled up at the garden, Lissa’s stomach was growling, and a dog in the back was barking nonstop.

Dax sighed as he put the van in park. “That Bluetick is a whiner.”

“No one likes to be cooped up.” Lissa hopped out of the van and shut the door. She hiked her backpack up higher on her shoulder and bounced on her toes. The garden was hidden by an eight-foot stone wall. Tendrils of ivy and honeysuckle draped over the rough-hewn limestone blocks. A gatehouse stood at a narrow opening in the wall. It looked like the front steps of a fairy castle, and Lissa’s fingers itched to sketch it.

“Let’s get the dogs walked and fed.” She met Dax at the back doors. “I can’t wait to go inside the garden.” Her stomach gurgled and her cheeks flushed hot.

Dax smiled, and the warmth she felt in her cheeks spread throughout her body. “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll take care of the dogs and meet you inside.”

“Are you sure?” She craned her head and looked toward the gatehouse. The parking lot was empty except for two other vehicles. The gardens would be nearly deserted. Just her and her sketch pad and a roast beef sandwich.

Dax swung the doors open and greeted the dogs. A barrage of barking knocked Lissa back on her heels. “I’m sure,” he said. Placing one hand on the floor of the van, he hopped inside in one smooth leap. He gathered up the leashes. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Go get some food inside you.”

“Thanks!” She trotted to the front gate and paid the entrance fee.

The elderly ticket taker informed her that the gardens were maintained by the local horticultural society. She pressed a glossy brochure into Lissa’s hand along with her ticket. “Enjoy, honey.”

Lissa nodded and ducked her head to step under the low arch of the entrance.

The temperature dropped as if she’d stepped into a refrigerator as she took three steps down to the garden proper. Her mouth dropped right along with it as she tried to take it all in. Along the walls, thick slabs of limestone jutted out at varying levels, vines trailing off the ledges. Raised beds dotted the gardens, overflowing with ferns and brightly colored flowers. The air was fragrant and sweet, and she inhaled deeply, feeling like Eve in Eden.

She wanted to stay there forever.

Lissa strolled under one of the outcroppings, brushing a tendril of ivy from her cheek. She pressed a hand against the chilled stone wall and felt her heartbeat slow.

Heaven. It reminded her a bit of the courtyards of New Orleans. Verdant wildness restrained by artistic vision. She forgot her grumbling stomach and looked for the best vantage point.

On the far side of the garden, she hopped over a burbling stream and climbed the incline until she hit the wall. She turned and found the view she wanted. But not the perfect angle. Frowning, she sidestepped. Nope. Using her hands to frame the setting, she backed up until her pack hit a ledge. Still not a high-enough vantage point.

She glanced at the limestone slabs next to her. Four of them jutted out from the wall at increasing heights, Almost like a staircase for a giant. Tossing her bag on to the first outcropping, she placed her hands on the waist-high rough stone and hopped onto the ledge. Careful to avoid the ferns planted on top of the dirt-covered stone, she repeated the process with the next ledge, picking her way up until she reached the top.

She found a spot near where the outcropping met the wall, gently brushed the trailing vine of a black-eyed Susan aside, and sank to a cross-legged position. She looked over the garden, her artist’s heart tripping. She could see the patterns of the raised boxes and pathways clearly from this height. The colors of the plants were coordinated, with deep purples limning the garden walls, fading to blues, then pinks. The heart of the garden was bursting with crimson. Time had faded the lines between the color blocks, stray red plants encroaching in the pinks, the blues intruding on the purples, and Lissa loved that the flowers didn’t want to stay in their designated boxes.

She pulled a small sketch pad from her bag, along with some charcoal, and got to work. Her hand flew over the page and filled it up, and she flipped to a new sheet. Another section of the garden came to life. When she got to this Pineville, she’d have to find a good art supply store. She usually worked in oils, but this garden called for watercolors.

She became so engrossed in her work that she didn’t see Dax until he was right below her.

“What are you doing up there?” he asked. The Bluetick strained at the leash Dax held, whining softly and pawing at the soft earth.

“Sketching.” She sank back against the wall, a delicious chill soaking through her shirt. “This place is amazing. I’m so happy we stopped here instead of the giant knitting needles.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m glad you like it, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be up there. Come down. It isn’t safe.”

Lissa shook her head but couldn’t keep her lips from tipping up. He really was adorable when he went into grumpy-grandpa mode. “Lighten up, old man. These ledges are rock steady. You should come up and join me. The view is beautiful.”

“Those ledges were meant to support the weight of plants, not a human body.” He wrapped the leash around his wrist and held his arms up. “Now toss me your bag and come down. Carefully.”

Lissa turned back to her sketches. “Not going to happen. I’ll come down after you’ve walked all the other dogs and we need to go.”

“I’ve already walked the other dogs.” Dax untangled the leash from around his ankles and told the Bluetick to sit. The dog ignored him and nosed around a begonia. “But this guy put up an unholy racket when I tried to put him back in his cage.”

“Some animals aren’t meant to be caged. Freedom is everything.”

The dog leaped for the first ledge, jerking Dax a step forward. Dax pulled on the leash, dragging the dog away. “Now you sound like William Wallace. You and this dog make quite a pair.”

She tilted her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m happy to sound like a freedom fighter. And you shouldn’t sound so dismissive of one of your ancestors.” She thought about the movie she’d seen as a kid, imagined Dax with his face painted blue and wearing nothing but a kilt, and a smile spread across her face. It would have been a good look on him.

The Bluetick faced Dax, lowering his head and backing up as much as the leash would allow.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Let William come up and play with me.” She patted her thigh and whistled. “Come on, boy. Come join your fellow rebel.”

Dax gripped the back of his neck with one hand. “You shouldn’t even be up there. There’s definitely no way I’m letting—”

The dog’s head popped free from his collar. With a triumphant yelp, he turned and sprinted for the ledge. The Bluetick hopped up onto the first step, spraying dirt against the wall, and bounded up to where Lissa sat.

She rubbed his head. “Good boy, William.” Looking down, she met Dax’s glare. “See? No harm, no foul. You have to learn to lighten up.”

William sniffed around her spot, then leaped onto the narrow top of the garden wall. His nails scrabbled. He almost fell to the ground below before catching his balance.

“Oh no!” Lissa tossed her pad and pencils down and jumped to her feet. She reached for the dog, but he darted away.

The wall was barely the width of the dog’s body, much too narrow to be running along. “Dax!” she called.

Dax ran to the lowest ledge and leaped onto it in one smooth leap. He jumped for the next step, landed on it with one foot, and sprang off, twisting his body to grab the top of the wall and haul himself up. “Stay here,” he told Lissa and headed after William, walking the wall like a balance beam.

Lissa’s jaw dropped. Whoa. He’d climbed that wall like a large cat scaling a tree. His feet had barely touched the ground. She swallowed. It had been hot as hell.

She shook off the tingling sensation. The dog getting away might have partly been her fault. She couldn’t leave Dax to chase William all on his own. She raised a knee to the top of the wall and climbed up. Staying in a crouch, she looked up to see where Dax and William were.

Dax was at the corner of the garden, one hand gripping the scruff at the top of William’s neck. He called down to someone in the same type of gray shirt the ticket taker had been wearing. Presumably apologizing to an employee for running about on the wall.

A black Cadillac Escalade pulled off the road onto the dirt parking lot, a trail of dust in its wake. Lissa squinted. The car looked familiar.

She sucked in a breath and rolled off the wall onto the ledge next to her pack. Oh. Crap. She peered over the limestone blocks. Two men climbed out of the car. One was holding his phone up to look at the screen. He pointed toward the garden, and they started walking for the entrance.

Lissa shoved her pad and pencils in her bag and clutched the pack to her stomach. The rectangular lumps of cash pressed against her thudding heart. Dax was heading back her way, leading William behind him, and Lissa jumped down from ledge to ledge until her feet hit the ground.

“Come on,” she shouted up to Dax. “Daylight’s burning. We’d better hit the road.”

“Now you’re in a hurry?” He hopped down to the highest ledge, William a step behind. “Hey, throw up the leash and collar, would you?”

Lissa found it on the ground and swung an end up into Dax’s waiting hand. “We still have a couple of hours left until Pineville, right?” She glanced over her shoulder, thankful for the huge fern hiding her from view. “Besides, I’m getting hungry.”

“Again?” Dax tightened the collar around William’s neck and led him down to the next ledge. “You just ate.”

Oh. Yeah. She hadn’t eaten her sandwich, but if she admitted that, he’d probably want to picnic right there. “Well, then, I want some dessert.” She grabbed William’s leash when they jumped to the ground. Hefting her pack higher on her shoulder, she hurried to an intersecting path and slowed to peer around the corner of a small palm tree. A black pant leg disappeared down a path heading in another direction. “Let’s go,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Why are you whispering?” Dax asked in his own whisper.

“No reason.” She darted across the head of another path and jogged toward the exit. “The garden just seems to call for a quiet voice.”

“Hmm.”

She trotted up the stairs and out of the low archway, waving goodbye to the woman in the booth. Running across the parking lot, she looked once more over her shoulder. Aside from Dax bringing up the rear, no one was coming after her. She tugged on her door handle, but it was locked.

“Let me just put the dog in the back and we’ll head out.” Dax pointed his key fob and unlocked the doors.

She pulled a side door open, and William jumped into the seat. “I think he wants to sit up front with us.” And it would get them out of there that much sooner. She climbed in behind him, prodding the dog until he made room for her. She slammed the door closed and slunk down in her seat.

Dax frowned but circled to the driver’s side. He climbed in and stared at them. “The other dogs will get jealous.”

“The other dogs don’t have the same independent spirit.” She looked from the key dangling from his fingers to the ignition and back. “Can we go now?”

“As soon as you put on your seat belt.”

Lissa muttered a curse but did as he said. “Safety first with you, right?”

Dax shrugged and put the van into gear. They bumped across the lot until they hit the smooth pavement of the road. He backtracked the way they’d come, heading for the interstate.

She checked her side mirror, but no one came tearing after them. Her muscles slowly began to unwind.

How the heck had they found her? She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Hell, she didn’t even really know where she was going. Yet Morris’s goons had tracked her. She pulled her phone from her pack and stared at it forlornly. It was the only connection to Morris she could think of. She sighed. It had taken so many beautiful pictures of her art, but all good things had to come to an end.

Rolling down the window, she nonchalantly hooked her elbow over the edge and draped her hand outside. When they hit the interstate, she uncurled her fingers. The roar of the freeway muffled any sound of its destruction. She rolled the window back up.

William circled in the middle seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. Dax ruffled his ears, his long, tapered fingers disappearing into the dog’s fur. Those fingers were so gentle with the dog but had pulled his body weight up like it was nothing. She pulled her sketch pad back out.

“Speaking of safety, scaling a wall and running along the top of it probably won’t earn you the safety merit badge. You do have great balance, though.” She sketched the outline of his hand on the wheel, focusing on the ridges of his knuckles. A white scar was etched across his index finger.

“It’s my job.” He turned the radio down a notch. “I take people rock climbing, off-trail hiking, rafting through class-five rapids. For me, it wasn’t dangerous. But for William here, it could have been.”

She smiled at his use of the dog’s new name. “He was fine.” She scratched the dog’s chin and cooed at him.

“Because we got lucky.” Dax shook his head. “But you shouldn’t have called him up to you. You can risk your own neck climbing where you don’t belong, but you shouldn’t bring an innocent animal into the situation.”

She stopped drawing. “Wait. You’re blaming me? Not that I think there was any danger, but you were the one who didn’t secure William properly. I don’t see why that was my fault.”

“Do you take any responsibility for your actions?” He glanced at the backpack at her feet. “You seem to flit through life as if there are no consequences to what you do. A person can get hurt that way.”

Resting her elbow on the window frame, she propped her head in her hand. “Who hurt you?” she asked lightly. “You’re way too young to be this serious. Life is about having fun. Exploring. Creating. If you follow all the rules, you’ll never climb out of the box society wants to keep you in.”

He gripped the wheel. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but rules exist for a reason.”

“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “But I’m not giving up on you yet. I’ll get you to let loose before it’s all over.” Dropping her head, she continued shading in the sketch of his hand.

She almost missed Dax’s muttered words. “God help us all.”

A grin spread across her face, but thinking Dax wouldn’t appreciate it, she let her hair hang down to block it from view.