by Paula Cox
She stopped. Remembered. Dax was not here alone. He’d brought his own date, another pale ring-girl type who no man with a pulse would spurn in order to dance with a fatty in a garbage bag. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. See? There she was, and there he was: the ring girl and Dax Easterling, already chatting away like besties. A few smooth moves and he’d have her out of that dress in his hotel room so he could give her the ride of her life. And that was how things went in this world—the world of MMA and professional sports and celebrities—a world she’d been around but had never really been a part of.
The danger, the risk, the casual sex: what the hell had she been missing all this time? She’d only ever had the one man, but how many women had he had while she’d played at Little Miss Monogamous? Seeing him gyrating like Patrick Swayze—or rather a wooden Ray Harryhausen version of Patrick Swayze—with that Victoria’s Secret wannabe, it was enough to get Tiana Section-Eighted alongside him.
He made her sick! She made herself fucking sick.
Tiana turned away in disgust, ready to storm out and never look back. As she did, her heel gave way and she slipped onto her ass. It didn’t really hurt, but the shock of it (and the shame of it, at such a wide-open moment) made her cry. A few men helped her up and she limped away, dying a little with each step.
Suddenly the future was terrifying, because it was so blank. The dance music dimmed and the voices disappeared. She found herself alone in the foyer, staring at the senior prom photo of Sergeant Devlin and Private Gasparilla. It broke her heart, seeing those two young people so happy and so innocent. Knowing the hardships they would have to endure to reach their “happily ever after” made her even more emotional. She felt herself about to burst into heavy sobs. It was welling, and she had no more resistance to it. This had been the worst evening of her life, bar none.
“Tiana? Are you okay?”
She composed herself instinctively, took her time before turning to face the speaker. To her genuine surprise, Dax Easterling stood before her, and he was alone.
Had he followed her out?
“You fell hard back there. You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Me? No, no, I just…needed to get some air. It was getting…oppressive in there.” She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “Won’t your date being wondering where you are?”
“My date? You mean my niece, Lacey. She made me promise to bring her. These special guests—” He motioned his champagne glass at the senior prom photo, “—they’re her heroes. She’s doing some kind of college project on them. I think she’s hoping for an interview.”
“College, huh?”
“Yeah. A freshman. Amazing. Seems only yesterday I helped take the stabilizers off her bike. Now she’s ten times smarter than me and knows all the tricks to get around me, or at least she thinks she does.”
Tiana laughed, more with relief than anything. He wasn’t dating anyone after all. At least no one here tonight. “Maybe I should get her to show me a few of those tricks,” she said. Definitely the champagne speaking, but now that she was out on a limb, she might as well test its limit.
“Well, the first one is easy,” he replied. “I’m a sucker for a woman who tells the truth.”
“Really? About what?”
“About everything.”
“For instance…?”
He downed the last of his bubbly and set the flute down on top of the brass cordon post. “For instance, why are you really out here?”
“I told you, I…” Tiana sighed, let her head bow in shame. “The truth? I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“The crowd?”
“Everyone having a good time like that. That’s not what I want to see right now. I want every motherfucker in there to be as miserable as me.”
He gazed at her, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “Why are you miserable? Is it Thad Hollis? Has he done something to you?” Dax stepped toward her. His face tightened, and she saw the rage just under the surface. Maybe it was there at all times, and he could summon it at will, whenever something offended him.
She stopped him right there. No way was she going to be the cause of another cockfight. “He hasn’t touched me…this time. But he made me come here tonight, even though he said we’re finished.”
“You two have split up?”
She nodded. Saying the words was still too painful. “He’s been screwing around, and when I caught him making a call to his whore, he didn’t even deny it. Bastard was proud of it. Then he tried to turn it all on me! I can’t even begin to get my head around that part. I swear he’s making this shit up as he goes along. It’s just…too much. Then when I saw him dancing with that slut in there, after he’d forced me to come here with him, it was as if he wanted me to see it. He brought me here to punish me.” She swallowed hard. “It’s not me, is it? I feel like I’m losing it. Tell me I’m not losing it.”
“You’re not losing it, Tiana. He is. He’s either a delusional asshole or just an asshole. Either way, you’re better off without him.”
“There was a second part to that truth,” she said, “about why I had to get out of there.”
“Go on.”
“There was this guy I’m kind of sweet on. I hoped he’d be here tonight. But the truth is, when I saw him, he was with another girl. It made me feel…jealous.”
“How jealous?”
“Jealous enough to want to drop-kick her.” Tiana cleared her throat, sensing she’d gone too far. “Of course, I’d never touch a college freshman.”
With the corner of his mouth, Dax flashed her a very brief but telling smile. “You might not have gotten that far. I taught her a few moves when she was younger.”
“Who said I was talking about your niece?”
“You weren’t?”
“What do you think?”
Dax took another step toward her, close enough for her to smell his delicious cologne. “I think you’ve been admirably honest until now. I like my women honest.”
“You’ve said that already.”
“Yeah, but here’s something I haven’t said yet: I was jealous tonight as well.”
“You were?”
“Past tense,” he said. “He’s gone and blown it for himself, so rather than drop-kicking him, I should probably thank him.”
Tiana didn’t know what to say. Had the champagne caught up with her, making her hear only what she wanted to hear? Was this guy playing with her? Drawing her out, only to throw it back in her stupid face when she’d made a complete ass of herself? Something told her no. Maybe because of his selfless stunt at the fight the other week, risking everything to save a guy he didn’t even like. Or maybe because he just looked so damn hot in a tux, and the smoldering look he was giving her…
“Are you for real?” she asked.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On how real you want me.”
She cozied up to him, running a flat palm over the breast of his jacket. Then she pressed her cheek to his chest. His arms curled round her, and she felt so safe, so unusually safe, his firm but tender touch took her breath away.
“I think I like you just the way you are,” she said.
“I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad night.”
“Me too. But it wasn’t your fault. And it’s not anymore—not bad, that is. I don’t hate this night anymore.”
“If you wanted, we could improve it some more.”
“How?” Her question came out at an excited whisper.
“I think I know a way.”
“Does it involve us leaving here?”
“Uh-huh.”
Tiana began to tremble—a wonderfully nervous tremble. “What about your niece?”
“What about her?”
“How will she get home?”
“Oh, she’s a smart girl,” he replied. “When she saw me come out after you and when I don’t return, she’ll have put two and two together.”
“Did anyone else see you follow me?” A scary thought right
there.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. All that matters is that we turn this night around, right? No one who looks as good as you should have to end tonight in tears.”
“Something’s telling me I won’t.”
He kissed the top of her head, then lifted her free. “Shall we?”
“Uh-huh.” As they left the foyer, Tiana glanced over her shoulder at the veterans’ senior prom photo. She threw it a wink.
Chapter Seven
It was quite cool out and Tiana wished she could remember what she’d done with her wrap. She hugged herself instead. Seeing her discomfort, Dax took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her as soon as they’d crossed the street. “Thanks,” she said, then hiccupped. And again. Too much champagne had left her muddle-headed, but even through the wacky where-am-I she knew she’d lucked out in a big way here. The last thing she wanted was to blow it by irritating him with her notoriously loud and persistent hiccups. She sucked in a deep breath and held it.
Please God, let this work.
Tiana saw a cab approaching; the center light on its roof was lit. She scurried off the curb to flag it down.
“No need,” he called after her. “I’m parked just round the next corner.”
Still holding her breath—it was her only shot at relieving her hiccups under the circumstances—she waved the cab on. The Arab driver gesticulated angrily and threw a serious tantrum when the car behind honked its horn at him. He jabbed his finger at Tiana. She flipped him off and gave him X-rated directions at the top of her voice. The following driver yelled something at her as well. She treated him to a double flip-off.
“Assholes, every one of them,” she explained to Dax. “God, I hate L.A. drivers.”
“Impressive.” He eyed her from top to toe and back up again. “You, ah, always that assertive?”
“Are you kidding? I’m never that assertive.” But she found her own outburst really kind of thrilling, as if the pressure had been mounting inside her for a while now, and that was just the first taste of what she could erupt, given the chance. Sure, the champagne had uncorked her, but the passion spewing out was all hers.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “We could always go get a coffee somewhere. Have a talk.”
“I’ve had enough of talking,” she replied. “I’ve talked myself into staying with a guy who doesn’t love me for far too long. I don’t want to hear myself talk. Not now. I want to be with you, but not for talking.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.” He offered her his arm, which she took. They passed umpteen couples before they reached his car, and none them gave her and Dax a second glance. That pleased her. She wanted to be invisible right now, anonymous to everyone but Dax Easterling. If she could pull this off, spend the night with him without screwing it all up with her neurotic, insecure bullshit, there might just be hope for Tiana Crowe after all…
***
He drove a gas-guzzling Jeep Grand Cherokee, black and mint; it was really comfortable inside. He played a Jim Morrison CD. Several times he checked her out, a different part of her each time, his gaze hungry and in no way coy. He’d already made it clear what he wanted without saying it outright like a sleaze ball would. Tiana liked that, even more so when the bubbly began to wear off and the full impact of where she was, whom she was with, and where he was taking her really rattled her nerves with a zeal she couldn’t get enough of. She slid in and out of Holy shit!-mode and loved every shiver of realization.
I am going home with him. With Dax Easterling.
She blushed when he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and again when they stopped at a red light and he secretly mouthed the word Wow whilst checking out her tits. Hoping to give as good as she got tonight, Tiana mentally undressed him several times. She’d already seen his upper body in all its ripped, tattooed glory, and his massive arms that could break a man in half or hold her right where he wanted her. But what about the rest of him? A former Marine and a high-ranking fighter, at the same time? Could he be any more of a stud? Not that she’d sampled a variety of men in her life. Thad, her one and only conquest, had given her pleasure but, looking back, he’d taken a lot more pleasure from her than he’d given. Were all men like that? Or was there something she’d been missing out on all this time?
Her breath hitched when she realized that the answer to that question was close. Dax was pulling into a driveway.
His driveway.
***
“Sure you don’t want a coffee or something?” He peeled his jacket off her.
“No thanks. I’m just about right.”
“True.” He flicked her a wink, then disappeared into the back. “Give me a minute. I need to say hi to Annelise.”
She was about to ask him why he hadn’t told her he had a daughter—or why he’d even brought Tiana here like this, for shame—when an excited bark from the yard answered it for her. She heaved a sigh. Kicked off her shoes, then snatched them up and placed them on the sideboard. Annelise might be one of those dogs that instinctively chewed any alien object left within reach. Cute name for a dog though. She’d always liked dogs—especially when they came with smoking hot Marine MMA fighter owners.
Dax’s home was smaller than Thad’s, more modest: a three bedroom detached house in the English Tudor style, with a slightly gothic black and white motif. Inside, it was fairly sparse. Pictures of extreme sports covered some of the walls, while an antique pistol and a harpoon gun hung over the mantel.
He returned carrying Annelise in his arms. She was a really cute black-and-tan Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, quite a bit bigger than others of that breed that she’d seen but equally as gorgeous. Her tail wagged like crazy, and she was straining to leap out of his arms and lick Tiana’s face.
“Oh my gosh! She’s beautiful.” Annelise loved being rubbed behind her floppy ears. Mouth open, tongue hanging, those big eyes bright and staring, she was in ecstasy. “How old is she?”
“Three,” he replied. “She used to belong to a buddy of mine, but when his wife split, he…ah, needed help looking after this little lady. So she’s staying here till he’s on his feet again. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” He flipped Annelise over and gave her the sweetest tummy rub Tiana had ever seen.
“Aw, but you’ll be sorry to give her up.”
“I know. I’m having second thoughts. Lacey thinks the world of her, too. She comes over to walk her and feed her while I’m away.”
“She’s so not the dog I imagined for a Semper Fi Marine, never mind a hardcore cage fighter.”
Dax laughed. “Tell me about it. The good news is she loves running. The bad news is…okay, there is no bad news. Screw what anyone else thinks, right? Let them have their pit bulls. I’ll take her anytime.”
“Yep. Good for you.”
“Okay, sweetheart, let’s put you back in your home for now. You can come in here later.” He carried her outside, where she had a pretty big kennel with what looked like under-floor heating. When he came back in, he’d removed his bowtie and unbuttoned his collar. “All right, where were we?” he asked.
Tiana shrugged coyly, then set her purse down on the sideboard. She glanced around the living room, looking for clues of his background, his tastes, what made him tick. “You don’t have any framed photos,” she observed, “except this one.” It was a group photo of his Marine combat unit in full desert gear out in the sticks, maybe Afghanistan. She picked him out right away, not the tallest or the heftiest, but easily the most handsome. He looked happy in that picture, younger, proud. He was high-fiving the guy next to him, a goofy-looking blond guy who was a little shorter than Dax and from his overall look and build had to be either a Viking or a surfer. Maybe a Viking surfer.
“You keep in touch with any of these guys from your unit?”
“Some,” he replied, pouring himself a scotch. “Most of ‘em are still overseas. I try to catch up with ‘em when they’re on leave, but we’re spread all over the country. It’s not al
ways doable.”
“Any live around here? The ones who aren’t still overseas?”
“Yeah.” He paused to take a long sip. “The guy next to me in the photo lives over in Glassell Park. That’s how I’ve got Annelise…when his wife left him. She just split—no warning, no word, just…like that.”
“Harsh. So he’s not much of a dog person, I take it?” It had sounded more amusing in her head, but now she remembered what Dax had said about his buddy “needing help” looking after the dog. It suddenly had graver connotations, for an ex-military guy.
Dax hesitated. “Let’s just say he’s having some problems. Monte’s a good guy, but his wife leaving him like that…it wasn’t exactly unprovoked. An easy way out maybe. But everyone has his or her limits, right? I don’t have to tell you.”