All He Feels - Dax & Ginny(2)

By: Melanie Shawn


All of these girls had wanted him and he should have wanted them. But all he’d felt was nothing. No interest. No spark. No desire. The only person that he had any interest in, the only person he felt any spark with, the only person that inspired any desire in him was the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about…and it was starting to seriously fuck with his head.

“This is getting out of hand.” Shaking his head he forced himself to face reality. “I’ve gotta move on. Put her and that night in the rearview, right?”

When Dax’s question was met with silence he turned his head to the side and saw two very unimpressed brown eyes staring back at him.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Dax defended, “You don’t understand because you got more action than I did that night. She couldn’t keep her hands of off you.”

“Arf!” Al Capone, Dax’s white English bulldog, responded with a deep, proud bark.

“Oh, now you have something to say.” Dax wanted to believe that his loyal companion wasn’t rubbing his face in the fact that he’d spent the night snuggled up with Ginny, getting petted, getting kissed, getting to be in her lap, while Dax had sat on the other end of the couch wishing he was the one snuggled up against her getting showered with attention.

Dax went back to his lifting, hoping he could, at the very least, lose himself in the repetitive task. It didn’t work but he knocked out two more sets before sitting up and taking a swig from his water bottle. His muscles screamed from the punishment they’d taken as a result of him trying to exorcise his demons with exercise. He stood and crossed the cement floor of his basement gym that boasted a weight bench, punching bag, treadmill and a couch that he’d had since college. It wasn’t fancy, but it worked for him.

Before heading upstairs he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror that had already been on the wall when he purchased the house six months ago.

When he’d hit puberty, in what seemed like an overnight transition, he’d gone from a tall and lanky kid to having a lean, athletic frame. Playing football in high school, doing two-a-days and hitting the weights had built mass on his naturally athletic frame. Joining the Marines and undergoing their Special Forces training had taken his fitness to the next level; he’d bulked up and put on a good forty pounds of muscle.

But the man whose reflection he saw now was a chiseled, cut version of the man he was in the Corps. He was in the best shape of his life now that he was spending every free minute he had in his home gym in an effort to free himself of the memory of Ginny’s angel face and sin-worthy body.

It didn’t help that Ginny, or Virginia Valentine as she was known to millions, was a country singer whose face was plastered on the front of every gossip magazine alongside her boyfriend, Hollywood bad boy Derek St. Vincent. Every time he saw another shot of the two of them, he wanted to punch something. Hard.

The night that Ginny had come home with Dax after she’d performed for a private birthday party at the restaurant/bar he co-owned with Riley Sloan and Ace Elliot, she’d explained that her relationship with Derek was for publicity only. The two celebrities never confirmed nor denied their status on record, which only fueled the press. It was a mutually agreed upon, mutually beneficial arrangement. They appeared at events and in public together in order to raise both of their profiles. She’d said it was standard practice in the business, but the look in her eye had told him that she wasn’t happy about it.

At the time, he wanted to ask her more about it, but he hadn’t. He wanted her to open up to him when she was ready. He’d honestly believed that the night they were sharing was the first of many. He’d been wrong.

The alarm sounded on his phone and he motioned for Cap to go in front of him. The dog lumbered up, slobbering and panting the whole way. When they reached the top, Dax was hit with a stink bomb. The air was thick and smelled of rotten eggs. If this were a cartoon, there would be green wavy lines of fumes surrounding him.

He gagged as he covered his mouth with his towel. “Damn, Cap. Did you get into the trash?”

His bulldog had a habit of eating “people food” and then having gas so bad they could seriously have used it as a lethal weapon when he was in the Corps. Cap could clear a village with his toxic ass.

“Come on. Let’s go,” he instructed firmly as he detoured to the back door.

Thankfully Cap did his business quickly and they both headed back inside.

Dax was due at The Plate, the restaurant and bar he co-owned, for their quarterly meeting in twenty minutes and then he had to head to Elite Security, where he worked as a private security specialist. He was due there for debriefing on his assignment that ended last week and also to do a risk assessment on his new assignment. He was going to be on a three-man team with Nate, a tech specialist, and Riley, who would be splitting executive protection duties with him for a politician that was going to be campaigning in the area.