Forever Wild. Allyson Charles
front of one of his eyes, making Dax appear even rougher. “I won’t tell you again.”
Lissa looked between the two men. Dax was tall, over six feet, and had a couple of inches on her wannabe dance partner. But the other dude had mass over Dax’s lean form. Things could get ugly, and she was standing in the middle. “Now, boys, no need to get your feathers ruffled. My dancing feet are tired anyway, and I’m going to go finish my meal.”
The man slowly eased his grip and dropped her wrist. “Shit song on now anyway.” With a chin bob to Dax that conveyed something in the language of men Lissa didn’t understand, he turned and stomped away.
“You okay?” Dax asked.
“Sure.” She lifted her shoulders. “Just another pushy guy. No biggie.”
“A man grabs you, it’s a big deal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Grandpa. Really, how old are you, Dax? That’s how people our age act. Chivalry’s been dead for many a moon.”
He ran his fingers through his thick hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “Look … You know what?” He blew out his cheeks. “It’s not my business. You can do what you want.”
“Well, what I want is to finish my dinner.” She grabbed his hand with both of hers and took a step backward. “I’ve got a table near the window. Let’s get you some food, too. My treat.”
He dug in his heels. “I already have a spot. And my own burger.” He jerked a thumb at the bar.
She drew her eyebrows together. “But … you must have known I was already here. Why didn’t you come sit with me?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I just wanted a quick bite and then I have to get back to the dogs. They might tear the room apart before I get back.”
“You didn’t want to eat with me?” She was being snubbed by a Boy Scout whose only companions were a pack of dogs? Laughter burbled out of her. “Now I know you’re an old fogie trapped in a cutie’s body.” She changed direction and tugged harder, determined to spark some life into the poor guy. He stumbled after her to the bar. She kept hold of him with one hand and picked up his plate of food with the other. “Come on, I won’t bite.”
He stared at the exposed beam above his head and muttered something under his breath.
“I’ll even buy you something sweet afterward,” she coaxed. Listening to Dax grumble was loads more entertaining than people-watching. And getting him to smile would be her own sweet treat. Besides, she wanted to know more about the man who’d saved her from Tweedledee, Tweedledum, and Tweedledumber back in New Orleans. Dax hadn’t known he was saving her, but the fact remained.
She put her weight into pulling him toward her table, and with a sigh, he picked up his mug of beer and trailed after her.
After he sat across from her, Lissa started her interrogation. “So, what’s it like being a dog rescuer?”
“A dog rescuer?” He shook his head and picked up his half-eaten burger. “I don’t think that’s a job title. Besides, working at Forever Friends, the dog shelter in Crook County I’m heading to, is only a volunteer gig. I’m an adventure guide for an eco-tourism company.”
“Really?” Now that was more like it. Dogs were great and all, but working around them all day couldn’t be exciting. “White water rafting? Zip-lining across canyons? Skydiving into the Great Lakes?”
His lips twitched. “Yes to the rafting and zip-lining, but the other one goes past adventurous into crazy territory.” He dragged a French fry through a puddle of ketchup on his plate. “Although I have taken groups to the Canadian Rockies for some heli-skiing tours.” He eyed her while he chewed. He took a swig of beer and wiped his upper lip with the back of his wrist. “What about you? What kind of art do you do?”
“I’m a painter, mainly oils, though I’ve been known to dabble in watercolors and acrylics. I’ve even sculpted a piece or two.” And been told to never get near an innocent lump of clay again. Morris hadn’t even bothered trying to sell her abstract sculptures. But he’d only been half an art dealer. The other half had been a thief, so maybe he didn’t know as much about art as she’d thought. Maybe her sculptures hadn’t been half bad.
She pursed her lips and visualized her last sculpture, a deformed bit of clay that was supposed to be a horse. No, they had been that bad. “What’s the art scene like in … uh, where did you tell me you lived? Pineville, was it? Any galleries there?”
“None that I know of.” He shrugged. “But then, the galleries for me are the lakes and woods of Michigan. If you want to see real beauty, I’ll take you to Tahquamenon Falls State Park.”
“You will?”
He grimaced. “I mean, if you’re serious about staying in Michigan, you should go see it. I can give you directions.”
Her phone buzzed in her front jeans pocket, and she pulled it out. She ignored all the missed texts and voice mails from Morris and focused on the email notification. Her heart jumped around like a rabbit when she saw the sender’s address. “Excuse me a sec,” she said as she opened the email. Her mouth went dry, and a burst of exhilaration surged through her. She pumped a fist into the air. “Yes! I’m in.”
“In where?” Dax asked. His hazel eyes went wide as she circled the table and threw her arms around his neck. His chair rocked onto two legs, and Dax windmilled his arms before righting himself. “Uh …” He patted her back awkwardly. “Okay, I guess we’re celebrating.”
She squeezed him tighter, needing the connection, someone at which to direct her happiness. The backs of her eyes burned. With joy. Relief. Hope. The thing she wanted most in the world, and it was finally hers.
He rested his hands on her lower back, and the heat from his palms cut through her thin cotton top, a comforting warmth that reached to the bottom of her shoulder blades. His hold on her was solid, dependable, like he’d have no problem catching her if she fell. Lissa longed to capture that feeling of security, stay in his arms for a while.
But even she had limits, and she’d just met the man earlier that day. Curling up like a cat on his lap would be a little weird, even by her free-wheeling standards. So, she drew back and grinned down at him. “We’re definitely celebrating. In fact,” she said, catching the eye of the bartender, “drinks on the house!”
A few cheers and whoops answered that declaration, but for the most part the diners and dancers ignored it.
“Huh. I’ve always wanted to say that, but it didn’t get the response I expected.” She shrugged and dropped back on her chair.
Dax leaned forward. “You shouldn’t joke like that.”
“Not a joke.” Their waitress strode up, and Lissa said this to her as well as Dax. “I just had some really great news and anyone who wants a drink to help me celebrate can. Put it on my bill.”
The girl nodded and made the rounds, taking orders.
Dax’s lips pressed into a white slash. “Even at a dive like this, the bill will add up. You shouldn’t have offered.”
“I can cover it.”
“You had to hitch a ride out of town.” Dax crossed his arms over his chest. “Forgive me for wondering if you can cover the bar bill for a hundred people.”
“O ye of little faith.” She pulled her bag from the back of her chair and opened the top flap. She showed him the contents, enjoying the way his eyes flared. “Like I said, I’ve got it covered.”
He shot out his hand and closed the top of the pack, looking over his shoulder. “What the hell? Did you rob a bank? What are you doing with all that cash?”
She opened another pocket on the bag and pulled out something even more precious than the cash that would pay for her dreams. She held the rolled-up