Forever Wild

by Allyson Charles

  Setting his sledge on the floor, he gulped down some water. He tramped toward Brad and cocked a hip against the workbench. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said between Gabe’s blows. Sunlight poured into the workshop from the new holes bust in the wall. “Just, I don’t know if everything’s right. Does that make sense?”

  Brad shook his head. “No, but I frequently need an interpreter with you. Any idea what he’s talking about, Gabe?”

  Gabe hefted the sledge to his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. He hooked his wrists around the ends of the wood shaft. “Nope. We’re going to need more.”

  Dax cracked his neck. This was stupid. He shouldn’t be talking to the guys when it was probably nothing.

  But what if it was something?

  “Look, things with me and Lissa are great. Really.”

  Brad and Gabe shared a look. “Uh-oh,” Brad said.

  Dax shook his head. “No, really. It’s just …”

  “Yes,” Gabe drawled.

  “One of the things I love about Liss is how open she is. She expresses everything she’s feeling, has zero boundaries.” Sagging against the bench, Dax blew out a breath. A tuft of his hair blew off his forehead, then slowly drifted down. “But this morning it was like she’d thrown up all these walls. She was polite with me. Like we were nothing more than roommates.”

  Brad shrugged. “This is a brand-new relationship for you two. I’m sure there are going to be a lot of growing pains to work out. And Lissa is high-spirited. There’s got to be some crashes from maintaining that personality once in a while. A person can’t be bubbling over with happiness all the time.”

  Couldn’t she? Even on the run from some pretty bad dudes, Lissa had never blocked him out the way she had that morning. “Isn’t that my job?” he asked. “To keep her happy?”

  Gabe hooted and Brad smiled indulgently.

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t try,” Brad said. “I try to keep Izzy happy every moment of every day. But ultimately, her state of mind is up to her.”

  “And face it,” Gabe added, “your chick is a little nuts. You’re going to have to get used to it if you want to keep dating.”

  Dax scowled. “She’s no such thing.”

  Gabe swung the sledge down and rested its metal head on the floor. He leaned his weight on the handle. “Look, she’s going to school soon. You’ve got a lot on your plate. Maybe it’s best you just let this die a natural death for now. Realistically, what were the chances for you two anyway?”

  Dax’s body tensed. Straightening, he fisted his hands on his hips. “What the hell do you know about it? I’m not going to take advice from someone who’s too chickenshit to ask Marla to marry him. You might be fine keeping it casual with a woman you love, but I’m not.”

  Gabe’s olive complexion mottled red. He let go of the sledge’s handle and stepped forward. “You don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”

  Brad got between Dax and Gabe. “Calm down, both of you. This is supposed to be a friendly conversation.”

  Dax stepped to the side. “And I want to know, all friendly like, what right Gabe has to lecture me about my future with Lissa when he obviously isn’t interested in making things permanent with his woman. When he has a relationship I respect, I’ll listen to his BS.”

  A horde of dogs chose that moment to race into the small building. The space went from testosterone and bluster to wagging butts and nose kisses in two seconds flat.

  The anger leeched out of Dax as William jumped up on him, resting his front paws on Dax’s chest. Maddie, Marla and Gabe’s black standard poodle, gave Gabe the same treatment, and Brad’s Vi, a boxer mix, rolled to her back to get a belly rub from her person.

  Dax tilted his head back to avoid a tongue to the mouth. Over William’s head, he gave Gabe a chin bob. “I’m sorry, man. This thing with Lissa has got me tense. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

  Gabe heaved a sigh. Digging in his pocket, he tossed a treat to his poodle. William abandoned Dax and pranced over to Gabe, hoping to get in on the gravy train.

  Dax shook his head. Sold out for a sausage stick.

  Breaking the snack into pieces, Gabe gave them to the other mutts. “It’s not by choice that I’m not married,” he muttered.

  This time it was Dax and Brad sharing the look.

  Brad raised an eyebrow. “What was that? Because for a second, it sounded like you might have proposed to Marla and she shot you down.”

  “I wouldn’t phrase it quite that way,” Gabe said, his jaw tight.

  “How would you phrase it?” Dax pulled a stool around and took a seat. It was much more fun listening to someone else’s relationship problems than discussing his own.

  Pacing across the small space, Gabe kicked a loose bit of plywood. “You know Marla is a couple of years older than me, right?”

  Dax and Brad nodded.

  “It’s so damn stupid.” He stopped by a splintered wall panel and ripped it from its slot. “She says she won’t marry me until she gets pregnant. She wants to make sure she can”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“‘give me the child I deserve.’ Idiot woman,” he muttered.

  Dax winced. “Is that going to be a problem for her? Has she seen a doctor?” Marla was in her forties. Dax wasn’t quite sure what age women stopped having kids, but she had to be getting close.

  Gabe found another jagged piece of wood sticking from the wall and yanked. “I’ve told her I’m happy to adopt,” he said, ignoring Dax’s question. “A kid is a kid, you know? It doesn’t matter how you get ’em. You love them just the same. But no, that’s not good enough for her. She thinks I’ll regret not have children of my own.”

  “That’s crazy.” Brad crossed his arms over his chest. “As someone who’s expecting his first biological baby, and as someone who became Ana’s dad when she was ten years old, I can tell you there isn’t a difference. Aside from the fact I regret missing out on Ana’s first decade of life, I couldn’t love her more.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Gabe threaded his fingers together and rested them on top of his head, his chest heaving. “I know that. And not that it isn’t fun trying to get Marla pregnant, but enough is enough. I’m tired of waiting.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?” Dax leaned forward, fascinated. Gabe rarely came unglued. He was grumpy, yes. High-handed and annoying, sure, all the time. But not pacing-around-the-room throwing-stuff crazy. Marla really had him off-balance.

  Gabe lowered his arms. “I’m going to have to force the issue. This bullshit ends now.”

  Brad gave a slow clap. “Solid plan. Piss off the woman you want to agree to marry you. I’m sure she’ll love your ultimatum.”

  Gabe glared at him out of the corner of his eye, his nostrils flaring.

  Dax nodded slowly. What Gabe said made sense. Not the ultimatum bit, because that really was going to piss off Marla. But the need to work out his problem sooner rather than later. Why let the issue fester? If something was bothering Lissa, Dax shouldn’t just wait around until she decided to tell him about it. He needed to be proactive in solving it.

  “So how do you get a woman to talk when she doesn’t want to?” Dax asked.

  “Wine,” Brad said at the same time Gabe said, “Sex.”

  William horked up something Dax didn’t want to identify, but he agreed with the dog’s sentiment. Neither of those approaches was right for Lissa, although he couldn’t deny the appeal of Gabe’s tactic. But Dax didn’t want to muddle whatever was wrong with Liss with sex. The sex could wait until after they’d made things right between them.

  Picking up his sledgehammer, Dax slapped the shaft into his palm. “I think I’ll just ask her what’s wrong.”

  Brad made a face. Gabe shook his head and muttered, “Sucker.”

  Dax didn’t care. He and Lissa were headi
ng to Lake Michigan that night, and no place was better to reveal all a person’s secrets than under the Milky Way.

  He swung the sledge and knocked out another section of wall with a satisfying crack. Yep, that was his plan. Straightforward. Direct. Simple. Besides, why wouldn’t Lissa want to talk to him about something that was bothering her? They talked about everything.

  He whistled as the wall disappeared beneath his sledge. Tonight, Lissa would tell him what was wrong and he’d fix it. Simple as that.

  * * * *

  The toe of Lissa’s boot caught on a half-covered root and she stumbled.

  Dax caught her about the waist, setting her upright. “Careful. I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.” The last glimmers of sunlight caught and held his grin.

  Lissa pressed her lips together. He probably would like nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder, go all macho Boy Scout on her. A delicious tingle bubbled through her lower abdomen. Okay, she might like it, too. But it wasn’t what she needed now. She needed to stay strong, keep him at arm’s length.

  She tapped him in the ribs with her elbow. “Maybe if you’d taken me on a hike on, I don’t know, a trail of some kind, I wouldn’t be at risk of a sprained ankle.” After parking his Jeep at a trailhead, Dax had led her away from the wide dirt path, seeming to delight in every bramble they had to hop over or every boulder that wanted to block their path. Out in his element, Dax was like a kid in a candy store.

  Lissa couldn’t help but fall in love with him even more.

  She’d known this hike was going to be trouble.

  “Nah, you won’t sprain an ankle.” He nudged her foot with his. “Not with the new boots I got you. You would just bust your leg.” With a wink, he loped ahead, William trotting at his heels.

  “Very reassuring,” she muttered. Hefting her backpack higher on her shoulders, she fell into step behind them. A brisk breeze whipped her hair around her, carrying with it a hint of humidity. “How much farther to Lake Michigan?” In all her travels, she’d never seen any of the Great Lakes. She quickened her pace.

  “Not far now.” He angled toward a small rise. A crack in the earth made him pause.

  Lissa came even with him and sucked in a breath. The mini canyon was only about fifteen feet deep, but it tore through the ground in a jagged pattern for roughly one hundred feet in either direction.

  Dax waggled his eyebrows. “Want to jump it? It will save us time circling around.”

  He was nuts. And endearing. And everything she wanted—after she graduated from school. She boxed up her mushy emotions and made her voice brisk.

  “That is at least six feet across.” She shook her head. “I’m not jumping it and you’re not either. Besides, William would never make it.”

  “Hmm.” Dax took her hand and led her around the north edge of the fissure. “When you’re the voice of reason, we might be in trouble.”

  His palm was warm against hers, his heat leaching into her hand. Her fingers tingled.

  She was already in trouble.

  They hiked up the rise, the earth growing increasingly soft with each step. Lissa gasped when they crested. She squeezed Dax’s hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

  Spectacular didn’t even cover it. The hill they were on was the beginning of a ridge of grass-covered sand dunes. A thicket of cypress trees bordered the dunes on their left. Mile after mile of sandy beach stretched in either direction, without a soul in sight.

  But the lake …

  She stepped to the edge of the dune before it started its descent down to the beach and plopped her behind in the sand. And stared. The expanse of water, midnight blue in the rays of the setting sun, went on forever. She knew the lakes were big, but this … This looked like an ocean. Half of the sun had already dipped below the watery horizon, turning the surrounding sky into pale lavenders and hot pinks.

  William tore down the dune and charged into the lake, splashing in the shallows. Dax settled next to her. “You like?”

  “I love.”

  They watched the sky deepen to garnet.

  “What’s going on with you?” Dax asked quietly. “You’ve been different these past two days.”

  Pulling her knees up tight to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. Crap. He’d noticed. And here she’d thought she’d been such a good actress. “I’m fine.”

  Dax dug a stone out of the dune and tossed it toward the lake. “Look, if you’re tired of me already, I get it.”

  Lissa jerked back as if she’d been slapped. He couldn’t be that stupid.

  “But I want to be sure you’re safe,” he continued, proving that yes, indeed, he was that stupid. “Stay in my apartment until you leave for school. I’ll sleep on the couch. We’ll be—” He sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll be good friends.”

  The word “friends” had never sounded more like an insult. She slapped his thigh. “Dax Cannon, I never want to hear you say that again. We’re not friends.”

  “We’re not?”

  She huffed and rested her chin back on her knees. “Well, we’re not only friends. Of course I’m not tired of you. I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “Well, if it’s not me, what is it?” He stared at her until Lissa could almost feel the heat of his gaze burning into the side of her face.

  She trailed her finger through the sand. “I got scared.”

  Dax turned his body fully to face her, her eyebrows drawn together. “Scared of what?”

  She rounded her shoulders. This wasn’t part of her new plan, to keep her distance. But it wasn’t fair to Dax to make him wonder what she was feeling either. “Of you,” she whispered.

  He flinched, and she darted out her hand to grip his knee. “Not like that. But scared of you and me. Of us. When people love each other, they’re supposed to be together. Not live across the country from each other.” She gave him a small smile. “You’re dangerous to my dreams, Dax.”

  “I would never ask you to give up Bruggard-Tayo,” he said.

  “I know you wouldn’t ask.” She squeezed his leg. “But do you want me to stay?”

  He hooked his elbows over his knees and stared out over the lake. “You know I do.”

  She sighed. “And a big part of me wants to stay, too. That’s the problem.”

  “I want you to stay, but I want what’s best for you more,” he said. “It’ll only be for eighteen months. We can make it that long. But—” He broke off.

  “But what?”

  “How long will you stay with me then?” Crossing his legs, he planted his hands into the dune and turned to face her. “Would you want to make Pineville your home?”

  A permanent home. Laying her head in the same spot each night. Having lunch with friends she’d known for more than a couple of months.

  A part of that sounded wonderful. As comforting as chicken noodle soup. The other part made her throat go tight. “I’ve always been a wanderer. Have you ever thought of making a living on the road?”

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “I may have to. Or at least find a new place to start an adventure company.” He picked up a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “But ideally, no. I like having a home base. Having friends nearby I can count on. A community. Deep down, I wonder if you wouldn’t like that, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dax tilted his head. “I looked at pictures of Bruggard-Tayo. It has a pretty campus.”

  Lissa’s mind raced, searching for clues in his words. “I know. That’s one of the reasons it called to me.”

  “And the school has one giant wall circling the campus.”

  Lissa drew her eyebrows together. “It was a convent. What’s your point?”

  He shrugged
. “It’s one giant walled garden. It’s organized chaos. Just like that hanging garden we stopped at after Memphis. I think …” He cleared his throat. “I don’t doubt you like your freedom, the beauty of wildness, but you also like the security and protection of those walls.”

  She shifted away from him. “That’s a load of nonsense. Besides, I thought you didn’t graduate from college. Now you think you have a degree in psychology?”

  He held up his hands. “Just telling you what I think. What I’ve seen of your behavior. Besides, are you going to sit there and tell me you wouldn’t be able to analyze me? We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well.”

  Well, of course she knew him. Every sweet, stubborn bit of him. Even when he was talking rubbish. She raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re stretching. I just find the campus pretty.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with appreciating community. You don’t have to wander your whole life to be a free spirit.”

  “Hmph.” She turned back to the water, catching the last rays of the sun before it disappeared from sight for the day. Dax was wrong of course. She didn’t have some secret longing to settle down into an ordinary life. If her parents had taught her anything …

  What had her parents taught her? That every time she’d made a friend, it was time to pack up and find a new town. Find new friends. That she shouldn’t ride her bike too far from their camper because her greatest fear was that one day she’d come back to their temporary spot and her parents would be gone. Leaving their unwanted daughter behind.

  Had her childhood been the glorious years-long summer vacation she wanted to remember?

  “Come on.” Dax stood and stretched out his hand. “We’d better set up camp while we still have a little bit of light.”

  She shook off her dark thoughts. The past couldn’t be changed. And if she and Dax could figure out a way to make this thing work, the future would look bright indeed. She took his hand and let him pull her up. “Where are we camping? The beach?”

  “Yep.”

  “And we can build a fire?” She stopped when they hit the shore to pet a damp William as he trotted up to her.

  “Of course.” Dax swung off his backpack and unstrapped the tent.