Dax was the whole package.
They reached the island and Jasmine guided him to the Old Gray Barn. The house had a grand history for many families as it had been a vacation rental for probably fifty years, but it particularly had a legacy for her mother, whose family used to visit here when Leslie was a child. They loved it so much, they came back year after year. Her mom had cemented so many memories here. When her life fell apart early last summer — her husband’s affair, Jasmine going to Paris for a summer internship, and her school year ending — an endless summer of pain and loneliness awaited her, until she decided to put her fate in God’s hands and take a roadtrip. Nowhere particular in mind, just go where the Spirit led her.
The Spirit did lead her to many meaningful people and places during that roadtrip. But ultimately, it led her right here to Pawleys Island, back to the Old Gray Barn, and to a certain rugged, handsome handyman who was working on the old house between rentals. Hank.
Theirs was a fast-paced romance filled with love, prayer, and the healing of two broken hearts. God put the two of them together at that particular junction of both their lives, for a reason. It was obvious to anyone who was around the two of them and witnessed their love for one another. Jasmine couldn’t be happier for her mom. The fact that she could now live in her favorite part of the country, was icing on the cake.
“Here we are. Just pull up here, under the house.”
“Under?” Dax glanced over at her, his eyes wide. He was probably certain he’d misunderstood her.
“Yeah,” Jasmine chuckled. “See? It’s on stilts. The cars go underneath. It’s almost like a garage.”
* * *
They quickly grabbed their bags from the trunk and dashed up the wooden staircase leading to the front door. Without bothering to knock, Jasmine tried the door and finding it unlocked, she pushed her way in.
“Mom! Hank!”
They were just inside in the great room and as soon as Dax and Jasmine entered, they were on their feet, happy voices blending and melding in the room. Dax hadn’t seen anything like it. Jasmine hugging Leslie, then pulling Hank into an embrace. Dax hung back, an uneasy smile on his face. Then, Jasmine’s mom Leslie came over to him and pulled him into a hug. She leaned closer to him so he could hear her over the din of voices in the room, “Thank you so much for bringing her here safely. We’re so excited to see you both.”
He nodded and his smile grew more comfortable. “My pleasure.”
Hank approached him and held a hand out to shake. “Great to see you again. Welcome.”
“Thanks. Glad to be here. It’s a first for me.”
Jasmine came over and put her arm through his. “Can you believe Dax has never been to a beach before?”
The way she said it made him sound like an alien, but she hadn’t meant it harmfully, and neither did her parents take it that way. All they did was insist that he go out back and experience it immediately. They all sat and kicked off their shoes, headed down a rustic staircase at the back of the house, and stepped onto the beach.
The sand was cool on his bare feet, but incredibly soft. He’d seen pictures of beaches before, but he’d never given any thought to how the sand would feel on his feet. He presumed it was a little rough, but not at all. Soft, cool, comfortable sand to sink his toes into. The chill sent a shiver through him, and Jasmine reached for his hand. “I’ll keep you warm,” she whispered and he smiled. They walked through at least fifty yards of sand, straight toward the water.
“It’s too dark to walk very far, but I at least want you to get your feet wet,” she said joyfully and Dax knew that she was in her happiest state of mind when she was at the beach.
Jasmine pulled him into the ocean up to his mid-calf. The sweeping sound of the tide going in and out was calming and soothing. It filled his ears with an immensity he’d never heard before. The water was chilly, but not uncomfortably so. He looked toward the house, and saw that Hank and Leslie had stayed on the shore, and they stood together, arms around each other.
“Have you ever tasted saltwater?” Jasmine asked.
“No.”
Jasmine smiled. “Stick your finger in the water, then lick it. Don’t drink it, because it is incredibly full of salt.”
He did as she instructed and cringed when he tasted the salt on his finger. “Wow. Unbelievable.”
“Yeah, so when we go swimming tomorrow, try to avoid opening your mouth underwater.”
He laughed. She turned toward him and he reached an arm around her, pulling her close. When they shared a kiss, he could taste the intense saltiness on both their tongues. He absorbed the scents, the sounds and the movement of the ocean. “It’s too dark to see well. I can’t wait to see everything tomorrow in the light.”
“We could get up early and see the sun rise. You’ll never forget it.”
They stayed out for a while before heading back to the house. They grabbed towels in the sun porch, wiped sand off their feet and legs, then settled inside on the couches in the main room. Jasmine chattered on about anything and everything, and Dax enjoyed watching her with her parents, his eyes roaming across each face. This was what a close-knit family was like. He’d observed some. He’d made friends in junior high and high school who had families like this, where kids could talk and their parents would laugh and encourage conversation. He’d been in a few foster families like this, and he’d yearned to stay longer. Wished and hoped deep inside himself that he wouldn’t be reassigned, that he could at least pretend he was a part of it.
“So Dax,” Hank said to him now, “Jasmine tells us you’re a massage therapist. How’s that going?”
“Good. I just moved to a new salon from my last one, so I’m back to building up a clientele. But it’s work I enjoy, and it’s nice to help people.”
“You’ve got to have strong hand and arm muscles,” Leslie said. “I try to massage Hank’s shoulders when he gets home after working all day, and I can only last ten minutes, max.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it takes some building up, just like any other muscle set. I’m used to massaging for an hour at a time, usually five or six times a day.”
“Wow.”
The conversation went on till well after midnight, at which time Leslie stood up and said, “I’ve got to call it a night. Emma, Marianne and Stella will be here at nine tomorrow. We figure you’ll need to do fittings. Maybe some alterations. They’ve reserved as much time as you need them this weekend for the photos and the videos.”
“Awesome, Mom.” Jasmine stood and kissed her as she walked by. “Don’t worry about us. Just tell me what rooms you want Dax and I in.”
She turned and gestured to two bedroom doors off the great room. “Both of these are made up.”
Jasmine nodded and turned to him to explain. “Besides the master bedroom here on the ground floor, there are three other smaller bedrooms on this level, then two huge dormitory-style rooms upstairs.”
“I’m sure I’ll be comfortable wherever.”
Leslie leaned over and kissed his cheek as she walked past him, and Hank waved his goodnights to both of them on his way out.
When all was quiet, Dax said, “They are so nice. You know how lucky you are to have them, right?”
“I sure do.” She patted the seat beside her on the couch. “I also know how lucky I am to have you. Why don’t you join me over here?”
He rose to his feet and covered the few steps to the couch and lowered himself beside her. She put her hands on his face and tugged. It didn’t take much encouragement as he turned toward her and took her in his arms, landing his lips on hers. They were so soft and warm and inviting. He ran his hands up and down her back, then landed on her cheeks. His pulse was racing and he couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be right now.
Jasmine eventually pulled back, her breath coming a little heavier than usual, her chest heaving. “Whoa.”
“Yeah.” Time to take stock and get control of himself. Talk. That was probably a good th
ing to try right now. “Does your mom know about our, uh, relationship status?”
“Oh! Didn’t I tell you? Yes, I told her a few nights ago. She was very complimentary.”
“She was?” That pleased him.
“Yes. In fact, her quote was, ‘he’s a keeper.’”
He pulled her into him, not so they could start kissing again, but just because he wanted to feel her against him. He wanted to know she was his, that she was close by. “That means a lot,” he murmured.
“You’re one of the good guys, Dax.”
“Thanks.”
They sat for a nice few minutes, then Jasmine announced that they had an early morning. She pointed out his room, and the bathroom they’d share, and they called it a night.
Chapter Twelve
Morning in the Old Gray Barn started with the smell of pancakes cooking on the griddle, spreading its delicious aroma throughout the entire first floor. Dax couldn’t think of a better alarm. He got out of bed, straightened his sheets and covers and dug some clean clothes out of his bag. He walked on bare feet to the bathroom, and finding it open, he went in and took a five minute shower. He’d found himself in the unwanted position too many times of oversleeping his alarm and discovering he had fifteen minutes to get to work. A five minute shower, an apple to eat in the car, and a shortcut, and he could make it by his first appointment. Just barely.
That was something he’d need to work on. A little less hectic start to the day.
Like today. It wasn’t his work schedule making him race through his personal hygiene, it was his stomach growling at the aroma of the pancakes. He wiped a towel over his hair, leaving it to dry on its own. He had a little natural curl, and Jasmine seemed to like it that way, so he left it. He studied his chin in the mirror, found that he wasn’t quite due for a shave yet, so he left that, too. Dress quickly in shorts and a tee shirt. Good to go.
He walked into the kitchen and Leslie got a great big smile on her face, making him remember her comment to Jasmine about him. He hoped she still thought he was a keeper after getting to know him better. But it sure made his heart warm to her, knowing that she probably knew his background, and had endorsed him as her daughter’s boyfriend anyway.
“Good morning,” he said.
She left the skillet and took a few steps to him, kissing him on the cheek and patting him on the shoulder. “Good morning,” she said, returning to the pancakes. “I sure hope you’re hungry. I know Hank is, so I figured with two men in the house, along with Jasmine and I, who have both been known to put away quite a few pancakes, I better make a big batch.”
He chuckled. “Let me put it this way. The delicious smell woke me out of a sound sleep, and my stomach hasn’t stopped growling since.”
“Good to hear!”
Jasmine’s mom was a petite lady, short blonde hair, who looked happy and comfortable in every situation. By contrast, Jasmine was taller and brunette, but with the same happy outlook on life.
Just as the thought of Jasmine entered his head, Jasmine herself entered the kitchen. He gazed at her and she came straight to him and gave him a kiss. In front of her mom. Who didn’t flinch, just smiled and said, “Morning, sweetie.”
“Hi, Mom. I wanted you to see these before we start today.”
Jasmine had brought her portfolio of selected shots from his photo shoot on top of the mountain, and when she pulled them out, Leslie swooned and oohed and ahhed. It was a little weird standing there, watching the two ladies going crazy over photos of him. But of course, he reminded himself, they weren’t commenting on him; more so the clothes he was wearing, and the capability of those particular shots to impress fashion professionals enough to offer her a job. He was just sort of the middle man.
They sat and ate, and Hank joined them, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Conversation darted across the table and the pancakes lived up to his hopes of flavor.
Before the meal was done, the front door opened and a small family – mom, dad and little girl – he assumed was Marianne, Tom and Stella, came in. Like Jasmine had the night before, they didn’t wait to knock, they came in, then announced their presence.
“Hello, everyone, good morning, good morning,” began Jasmine’s stepsister, Marianne, but didn’t get half her greeting out before her little daughter – Jasmine’s step-niece, Stella – blew in with excited greetings for her family. She ran first to Hank, “Paw Paw, hi! I’m going to wear Jasmine’s clothes and she’s going to take pictures of me!”
“Yes, sweet pea, you’ll be the prettiest little model there is, won’t you?” the older man murmured to her while holding on tight.
Then she swung over to Leslie. “Grandma Leslie, will you watch the photo shoot?”
“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll both be there.”
Jasmine greeted Marianne and Tom, then grabbed Dax’s arm and pulled him over. “Everyone, this is Dax, my boyfriend.”
She said it with a beaming smile, which Marianne returned to her with a wink. Marianne welcomed him, gave him a quick hug and patted his shoulder, then Tom came over with a handshake and a few words. This family was all about affection and love, it was so obvious and inherent with all of them.
“Hello, pretty little girl,” Jasmine said, squatting down to receive the full body slam hug of her step niece.
“She could barely sleep last night, she was so excited about being your model,” Marianne said with a grin. “She hasn’t been able to talk about anything else ever since I told her.”
“Well, princess, you’re doing me a big favor modeling for me. These pictures will help me get a good job in fashion. If I end up working for a children’s clothing company, I’ll get you free clothes.”
Stella squealed.
“Come to my room and we’ll try your outfits on.”
* * *
Jasmine took Stella outside, onto the beach behind the Old Gray Barn. The rest of the family stayed on the sunporch, watching the progress of the photo shoot, but out of sight, so as not to distract Stella. Jasmine gazed through the viewfinder of her camera. These shots were going to be adorable. Stella was such a natural little beauty, and the fashions Jasmine had made for her enhanced the windswept beach look that was emerging in the frames.
Jasmine snapped a few shots as they walked to the water line. Stella wore a sundress in blue sea tones, one shade emerging seamlessly into the next in horizontal stripes from top to bottom. Placing her in front of the ocean waves, with a crystal blue skyline behind her would enhance the color scheme of the dress.
“Here you go, sweetie. For this photo shoot I don’t want you to just stand and smile at the camera. I want you to do whatever feels natural. Smiles are fine, but also other expressions. If you see something on the beach that catches your interest, lean over and pick it up, study it, whatever. I guess I want you to forget that I’m here, taking pictures of you. Don’t pose. Got it, sweetie?”
For only being five years old, and never having modeled before, she got it remarkably well. She did some “Say cheese!” poses, but then her natural curiosity got the better of her and Jasmine got some beautiful shots of her discovering shells, her airy dress blowing in the breeze, her long light brown hair falling over her face, her natural smile unhampered.
They did a few clothing changes. White pedal pushers with a blue navy style jacket. Peach shorts with a pastel multi-colored tank top. Jasmine took photos of her in front of the ocean, then turned so the beach house was in the background. For the last set of photos, she took Stella on the sunporch and took some shots with the rustic wood of the porch, and then for fun, some family shots of her with her parents and grandparents.
“How’s it going?” Marianne asked.
Jasmine lowered her camera. “Done. She did great. I have hundreds to choose from. I’d be happy to put all the good ones on a CD and give it to you so you can develop those you want.”
Marianne beamed. “I’d love that.”
“Thank you so much for loaning me your beautiful litt
le model. She did awesome.”
As the family socialized, Jasmine went into her room and pulled up the results of her shoot onto her laptop. Dax joined her and they sat cross-legged on the bed, gazing at shot after shot, full screen.
“You got some great images. You’re a very talented photographer.”
She laughed. “Photography’s not my thing. But in fashion, you need some basic skills so you can showcase your designs. No one’s going to see what you can do unless you can present them in an attractive way.”
“You’ve got so many. How do you narrow down to the best ones? You can’t send a hundred shots with your job applications, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the tough part. Picking out and presenting only the very best. Potential employers in the fashion industry are always busy and on a schedule. I have to be courteous of their time. If I send them a hundred photos, even if they were all wonderful, they’d probably cut me out of the running because I pissed them off.”
He laughed.
“When I was doing yours,” she continued, “I was ruthless with finding reasons to cut a photo out. A hair was out of place. Or a wrinkle in your pants was noticeable. Gone. On to the next.” She looked over at him and smiled. “Who am I kidding? You’re so camera-ready all the time, it was hard to find any flaws with you.”
He gazed at her, his eyes darkening from cocoa-brown to ebony. His breath caught and he leaned in and rested his lips on hers. Her heart increased its rate and she clutched his shoulders, forgetting all about photos and fashions and models. Her whole world was the warmth of his mouth on hers.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She managed a casual laugh despite the racing of her pulse and breathing. “For the kiss?”
Bridge to Fruition Page 13