Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (31 page)

The door cracked open and Trace tiptoed inside.

“I’m not asleep,” I grinned.

“Oh,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his damp hair.

I sat up and studied him in the dim light of the bedroom. “Are you wearing glasses?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he stuttered. “I can’t sleep in my contacts.”

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I tilted my head and smiled at him. “I like them.”

“They’re so dorky,” he groaned, sliding in beside me.

“I don’t think so,” I laid back and turned on my side to face him in the bed. The glasses were thick black-framed retro looking ones.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not lying, you look good in them. You should wear them more often,” I cupped my hands under my head.

“I didn’t know you had a fetish for glasses,” he snickered.

“You’re impossible,” I rolled over to my other side and faced away from him.

He turned out the light on his side of the bed. The sheets rustled as he wiggled around and settled beside me.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked. “Or can I hold you?”

“You can hold me,” I whispered. The bed dipped down behind me, as he scooted closer until my back was spooned to his front, and his arm was thrown across my body.

“Good. I wanted to make sure before you bit my arm off or something,” he chuckled.

“We have all night,” I warned.

“I love it when your spitfire side comes out,” he whispered.

I snorted, and closed my eyes, resolving not to reply so that I could get some sleep.

I was close to drifting asleep when Trace whispered, “Olivia?”

“Yeah,” I replied softly.

He paused. “Why did you tell me about your list?”

I had often asked myself the same thing. Why so soon? Why Trace? What made him different?

“I-I don’t know. You…made me feel…safe,” I stuttered. “A part of me didn’t want to tell you…” I paused. “I was afraid of what you would think of me. But something made me take that leap. I guess…” I searched for the right words to explain how I felt. “I guess I was tired of being the girl hiding in the shadows. I wanted you to show me the light.”

“Regardless,” he whispered huskily, his breath gusting against my ear, and the curve of my cheek, “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” I replied but the words were barely above a whisper.

I was shaking.

Why was I shaking?

“Wake up,” Trace coaxed and I felt something soft press against my lips.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Trace hovering above me. He grinned like a little boy. “I knew kissing you would do the trick, just like Cinderella.”

“You’re thinking of Sleeping Beauty,” I yawned, covering my open mouth with a hand.

“Whatever,” he rolled off of me.

“Are you always this…
chipper
in the mornings?” I groaned.

“No,” he smiled wickedly, “I’m usually horny.”

I tossed a pillow at his face. He caught it and tucked it behind his back.

“It’s not that I’m not horny this morning,” he continued much to my dismay, “I just figured you wouldn’t appreciate waking up with me between your legs.”

I moaned, and it wasn’t in irritation. His words had sent tingles of pleasure straight through me.

Damn him.

He licked his lips and leaned closer. “Based on that little moan of pleasure, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have objected.”

His hand skimmed over the side of my hip, and he nuzzled my neck, kissing it tenderly. I pushed his shoulder so he ended up sprawled across the other side of the bed. He looked excited, no doubt he was thinking I was about to hop on, and take a ride. Crazy man. “Down boy,” I warned.

“Ugh, you’re mean,” he pretended to wince.

“And you’re driving me insane,” I sighed.

“Are my ploys working?” He gazed at me with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and climbed from the bed.

“I’m going to shower,” I called as I walked away.

“You can run but you can’t hide,” he sing-songed and I heard rustling as he climbed from the bed.

“Don’t even think about joining me, bud. I know what your agenda is and it’s
not
happening,” I snapped.

“Fine,” I heard him say before I closed the bathroom door; “I’ll just take you back to my place and handcuff you to my bed. Problem solved,” he cackled.

I washed my long hair in record time, afraid that Trace was going to pop in the bathroom any second. He was driving me insane with all his innuendos, and I was close to taking him up on it, but the thought of being in his family’s house was too awkward for me to get over. Especially, since I had only met them last night.

If he kept it up though, I
would
be begging him to chain me to his bed.

What had Trace turned me into?

I dressed quickly in the same outfit I wore yesterday which I had left folded neatly on the counter.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Trace was dressed, and the bed was made.

“Hungry?” He asked. “Cecilia made breakfast.”

“Starving,” I smiled graciously.

I followed him through the maze like house and into the dining room. We were the first to arrive and Cecilia was starting to bring out different dishes of food.

“Do you guys always eat your meals in here?” I asked, looking around at the grandeur dining room.

“Yeah, Gramps likes to eat in here. He says if we’re going to have a fancy dining room we might as well use it. There’s an eat-in area in the kitchen but it’s never been used.”

“Huh,” I mused quietly. “I would think there would be a lot of unused spaces in this house.”

“Gramps, is weird,” Trace shrugged.

“Respect your elders, boy,” Warren snapped as he came hobbling into the dining room. He stopped behind Trace and smacked the back of his head with a surprising amount of strength.

“Sorry, Gramps,” Trace muttered.

“You gotta watch this one,” Warren chuckled as he sat down, and addressed me, a finger pointed at his grandson, “if he gets outta line, you’ve just got to give him a little smack.” He swatted at the air for emphasis. “That’ll straighten him right up.”

I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of the family strolled casually into the dining room.

I grabbed a bagel and slathered it in cream cheese and added two scoops of mixed fruits onto my plate.

Cecilia brought out champagne flutes filled with orange juice and a slim orange slice along the rim.

“How did you sleep?” Trace’s mom, Lily, asked me.

“Well, thank you,” I took a sip of orange juice.

“I’m glad the guestroom was to your liking,” she smiled.

“Wait, what?” I gasped.

Trace snickered beside me.

I glared over at him.

“Way to go!” Trent fist bumped Trace.

“Oh, God,” I hung my head in my hands.

“I—uh—take it you didn’t sleep in the guestroom,” Lily chuckled.

“This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she shrugged, spearing her scrambled eggs, “you’re both adults.”

“Still,” I glared at Trace. “You’re such a little liar.”

“I told you she wouldn’t care,” he shrugged.

“Ugh,” I groaned, praying a hole would open up, and swallow me.

Warren cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the head of the table. “I was able to speak with Cameron, who owns the snow removal business we use, and he said that they should be able to clear the driveway this afternoon.”

I smiled gratefully and then paled. “Oh my God!” I stood up from the table. “I forgot to let my mom and Avery know we got snowed in. They’re probably so worried,” I started to dart away from the table but Trace caught my arm.

“I talked to your mom last night, you were in the shower, and your phone rang,” he explained. “I answered and told her what had happened.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” I put a hand to my racing heart and sat back down.

Trent snickered from across the table. “Did you seriously say, ‘Thank goodness’?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied.

He laughed quietly. “Grammy says that.”

“That’s because Grammy’s cool,” Trace slung his arm across the back of my chair.

“Grammy’s not cool,” Trent snorted.

Ellie glared at her youngest grandson. “Who was it that went snowboarding with you during winter break last year?”

“You did,” Trent squeaked.

“And what did you say then?” She raised a brow, waiting for his response.

“That you were the coolest grandma ever,” he mumbled, looking down at the shiny wooden table.

Ellie smiled. “Now, that that’s settled, let’s all enjoy this lovely breakfast.”

“Okay,” I held up a finger, “so in the basement, there’s a movie theater, a game room, a basketball court, and a bowling alley. What else do you guys have?”

“Well,” Trace collapsed on the huge sectional couch in the family room, “in the backyard, there’s a pool with a diving board, slide, and waterfall. There’s a hot tub too. And if you don’t mind walking, we have a tennis court, because back in the day, Grammy played, and Gramps added that. We also have a couple of tree stands for hunting scattered around the property.”

I stood, looking around the gargantuan family room.

Trace grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him. He smoothed my hair away from my eyes and cupped my cheek. “You look like a little kid in a candy store with your mouth hanging open like that. Should I find you a lollipop?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s kinda unbelievable that you grew up here and your family is great. They’re not stuffy at all. I love your grandpa,” I thundered on, ignoring his statement about lollipops.

“I told you,” he grinned, “and they love you.”

I snuggled against his warm chest and closed my eyes. “I love them too,” I murmured, before the calming symphony of our breaths sang me to sleep.

I hugged Warren tightly. I had never met my grandparents and I found something in Warren that I connected with.

“Come back and see us,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry about being with Trace. Come anytime, ya hear?”

I pulled away and nodded. “I will.”

He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

My eyes lit upon a picture behind Warren. “Is that-”

He turned and smiled sadly. “Trace’s dad?” He supplied.

I nodded.

“It is. The resemblance is uncanny. Trey marked both of those boys. There is no doubting they’re members of the Wentworth family. Trace looks the most like him though,” Warren explained. “That boy loved his daddy something fierce. He did some bad things after Trey died in the accident. He was like a different person. Somehow, he found his way back to the light, and I’m so thankful for it,” Warren breathed. “For a while there, it was like we lost two people. Did Trace tell you that he was with his dad when he died?”

“No,” I gasped, tears automatically welling in my eyes.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it but they were out goofing around on those bikes and a semi-truck slammed into Trey. Bastard didn’t even stop. Trey was in front of Trace, so poor Trace saw everything. There were body parts scattered everywhere.”

Sobs raked my body. “Th-that’s h-h-hor-ible,” I stuttered.

I couldn’t imagine the kind of pain that one would experience from an event like that. No wonder Trace had gone off the deep end. Anyone would.