Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (57 page)

Applause echoed around us and I smiled.

Nick took my mom’s hand and they walked back down the aisle as the minister declared them, “Mr. and Mrs. Nickolas Callahan.”

I took a huge sigh of relief as the wedding party began to disperse, heading to the tent set up for the reception.

When I was sure no one was looking my way, I scratched the itchy spot on my back, sighing in relief.

“Hey beautiful,” Trace, my boyfriend, grinned, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around. My strapless lavender dress fanned around me. “You looked good up there,” he kissed my cheek.

I rolled my eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen me moaning in pleasure from
finally
scratching my back. Damn itchy dress. “You’re such a liar. I know I looked terrified, I was scared to death I’d do something wrong.”

“How could you possibly do something wrong?” He questioned, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “You stand there and look pretty.”

“Knowing me, there’s a number of things I could do wrong,” I grumbled as we walked towards the large white tent. My heels kept getting stuck in the soft ground and Trace had to lift me up.

“You
are
clumsy,” he chuckled, just as he had to grab me around the waist to keep me from toppling face first into the ground.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

He chuckled. “It’s not a problem.”

We made it to the tent, where a dance floor, a stage, and tables were set up.

Paper flowers hung from the roof of the tent and soft music played. Everything was very simple and understated, just the way my mom and Nick wanted it.

This was the first wedding I had ever been to and I was at a loss as to what I was supposed to do.

Trace gave my waist a slight squeeze. “Stop chewing on your lip, Olivia. You’re going to make it bleed.”

“Sorry,” I let my lip go with a pop. I was a nervous ball of energy.

More people began to trickle into the tent and I felt more at ease. Some started dancing, while others took a seat at one of the tables scattered under the tent.

I saw my mom and Nick come into the tent, and he pulled her onto the dance floor, one hand was at her waist, while his other hovered protectively over her small round stomach.

“Are you okay?” Trace whispered, his lips skimming my ear, and sending a shiver down my spine.

Even after two years, I was still affected by him. I think I always would be. After the man I’d grown up believing was my father nearly killed me, our bond grew even closer.

Trace had been there for me through the good, the bad, and the in-between. He was my rock. We had some hard times over the last two years but we stuck it out. Trace saw me at my worst after my near death experience … I said some not very nice things to him—to everyone, for that matter. But it never fazed him.

Eventually, I grew strong enough to let go of my past with his help.

Those first few months we were together, he taught me how to be wild and spontaneous, how to make mistakes, and most importantly, he taught me how to
live
. And that’s what I’d been doing ever since.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, rubbing my neck.

“You,” I answered.

He smirked. “Are you thinking about the three orgasms I gave you this morning?”

I smacked his side. “
Trace
,” I groaned, my cheeks coloring.

“What? You looked like you were really enjoying them,” he wet his lips. “At one point I thought you passed out.”

“Shut up,” I pleaded with him.

“Fine, no more orgasms for you,” he chuckled.

“Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?” I squirmed in his arms. “Someone could hear you.”

“Eh,” he waved a hand, “I don’t care.”

“But
I
do,” I hissed. I’d been with Trace long enough to know and respect the fact that he had no filter. But when he started saying certain things in very public places it became a bit difficult for me to handle.

“Ah, there it is,” he grinned.

“What?” I asked.

“Your ears are turning red,” he chortled, gazing down at me. Someone bumped into me, pushing me further into his body.

“Are not,” I groaned, self-consciously reaching up to touch my ears. Sure enough I could feel the heat infusing them.

Trace chuckled in reply. Shaking his head he stepped in front of me, holding out a hand as he bowed dramatically. “May I have this dance?”

I let my hands drop from my ears and placed one in his. “You should know by now that you don’t need to ask.”

He wet his lips. “I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman always asks for permission,” he winked, leading me out onto the dance floor.

I wrapped one arm around his lean shoulders while he held my other hand. We swayed back and forth to the romantic music, while my mom and Nick danced nearby along with other couples.

“In case I haven’t told you today, you look beautiful, Olivia,” he whispered huskily in my ear and my stomach rolled. God, how was it still possible for him to turn me on with a few words?

“You’ve mentioned it a few times already,” I smiled up at him.

He bent down so his lips were beside my ear. “Olivia,” he whispered, “you deserve to be told your beautiful every second, of every day, because it’s true.”

I blushed, leaning my face against his chest where his heart beat proudly. “You’re such a flatterer.”

“I’m no such thing,” he murmured. “I’m honest.”

My eyes flutter closed. “I love you.” Three words had never been more true. I loved Trace Wentworth with every fiber of my being.

“I love you too,” his chest rumbled beneath my ear with his words, “so much.”

I knew he did. He told me and showed me every single day how much he loved me. I often wondered how I got so lucky finding Trace … or maybe he found me. Regardless, Trace was it for me. I hadn’t had to suffer through tear-filled breakups. It had only ever been Trace and that’s all it ever would be.

He gently grabbed my right arm and pulled it away from his shoulder, placing a light kiss on the tattoo that emblazoned my wrist. It was a fairly new tattoo and spelled out his name.

“You really like my tattoo, don’t you?” I laughed.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “I
love
it. It lets all the other guys know you’re taken.”

I rolled my eyes. “You sound like a dog marking his territory.”

He chuckled. “I have your name close to my junk, so you’ve taken my man-hood,” he reasoned.

“
You’re
the one that wanted it there,” I glared.

“But your name looks so good there, peeking out of the top of my pants,” his eyes were playful, holding back laughter.

“You-you-ugh!” I stuttered.

He continued, “This way, guys know you’re taken, girls know I’m off the market and that my—”

“Trace! We’re at a wedding!” I cut him off.

“—cock belongs to you,” he smirked.

“You just
love
embarrassing me,” I buried my face against his chest, willing the blush staining my cheeks to leave.

“You’d think by now you’d be used to the things I say,” I felt him shrug.

I shook my head and looked up into his green eyes. “I am,” I grumbled. “But when you start saying certain things in public—” I trailed off, lifting my shoulders in a small shrug.

He chuckled, his lips lifting up into a smile. “I like to keep you on your toes …” He paused, “… actually, I prefer to keep you underneath me but that’s a different story.”

“You are on a roll today,” I shook my head rapidly back and forth, praying that the people around us couldn’t hear our conversation.

He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my face up. “I promise, from now on … or at least until we get home, I’ll be on my best behavior.” He grinned cheekily.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I can be good!” He exclaimed. I eyed him. “Okay,” he paused, “I can be good if I try
really, really, really
, hard.”

“Stop talking and dance,” I shook my head, unable to hide my smile, and glanced down at my feet to make sure they didn’t get tangled in his.

“So bossy,” he chuckled, “I like it.”

I bit down on my lip to hold back my retort.

“Hey,” Nick appeared behind Trace and tapped his shoulder.

Trace and I stopped dancing, and he wrapped an arm protectively around my waist.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nick smiled sheepishly, sweeping his blonde hair from his eyes, “but I was hoping to dance with Olivia.”

Trace glanced down at me and I nodded that I was okay with that.

“Sure,” Trace released me and placed my hand in Nick’s.

“Nora, would you like to dance?” Trace asked my mom.

She smiled and accepted his offer.

I watched them sway onto the dance floor before I tilted my head back to look at Nick. God, he was a giant. I felt like a midget standing next to him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Nick whispered, glancing around to make sure my mom and Trace were out of earshot.

“I figured,” I muttered, trying to keep the bite out of my voice. Nick
was
a nice guy, so I needed to stop acting like he wasn’t. He and my mom deserved to be happy.

His hand flexed where it rested above my waist. We swayed awkwardly to the music, almost a foot of space between us.

“I know … that this has been …”

“Difficult?” I supplied with a raised brow.

He took a breath. “I know this has been
difficult
for you, Olivia. But I really do love your mom with all my heart and I’m ecstatic to be her husband. I can’t wait to bring our son or daughter into this world and become a father. Nora’s told me everything about Aaron and Derek.” I flinched at the mention of Aaron’s name. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through so much, Olivia. I really am. But I want you to know that I’m
nothing
like—”

“I know that,” I interrupted him before he could say that name again.

“Good,” he swallowed.

In the beginning, when I first learned of Nick and my mom’s relationship, I’d wondered why she was so quick to jump into dating after
finally
getting away from her abusive husband. But now, I understood. There’s a part of all of us that no matter what, never stops believing in the power of love. Love, makes us human. It’s what drives us.

The song changed but we continued with our awkward dance. I felt like he was waiting for me to say something, so I opened my mouth and let the words tumble out. “I truly am happy for the both of you. I can see how much you love my mom and how much she loves you, I’d be an idiot not to. I think it’s great that she’s found someone to love and she’s moving on with her life … I’m sorry that I haven’t been the most supportive person of your relationship … it’s just … awkward … I mean … you’re—” I floundered for a better way to explain but came up empty.

“I get it,” Nick smiled and his dimple appeared in his cheek. “I could be your brother.”

“Exactly!” I agreed.

Nick
was
my best friend’s brother, which made this whole thing even weirder.

Nick chuckled. “I don’t want you to ever think that you’re not … welcome, or anything like that, Olivia. Just because your mom and I are married now, and the baby will be here in a few months, it doesn’t mean you’re not still her daughter.”

“I know,” I mumbled.

“Do you?” He questioned.

I sighed. “It’s weird,” I admitted reluctantly. I felt like my mom was replacing me … like I wasn’t good enough. I knew in my heart that wasn’t true, but it didn’t stop me from thinking it.

“I don’t want you to feel weird about this, Olivia,” Nick’s eyes narrowed.

“How could I
not
feel weird?” I countered. “What if the situation was reversed? How would you feel if your mom was marrying your best friend’s brother and having his baby?”

He shrugged. “When you put it that way … I get it. I do.”

“I’m a big girl, Nick,” I told him jokingly. “Seriously, don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to be okay with me and your mom being together,” he whispered.

It was kinda too late for that. But I didn’t tell him that. “Nick,” I eyed him, “you love my mom and that’s what matters the most. I’m
okay
.”

He stared down at me for a moment, not believing me.

“Really,” I added.

“Alright,” he sighed, his eyes zeroing in on something across the room. “I better get you back to your boyfriend before he bites my arm off or something.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Trace standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, glaring at Nick. My mom was speaking to Resa, Nick’s mom.

I shook my head and smiled at Nick. “Did he miss the wedding or something? I’m pretty sure you just said ‘I do’ and it wasn’t to me.”

Nick chuckled. “Yeah, he must have missed that part.”

The song ended and Nick released me. “Thanks for talking with me, Olivia.” With a smile, he disappeared off the dance floor, in search of my mom.

“Somebody was a Chatty Kathy,” Trace appeared at my side.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty table. “He wanted to talk,” I told Trace, sitting down beside him. “So, we talked. There was no need for you to glare at him like that. He
is
my step-dad.” Ew. That word seemed too strange to comprehend.

“Sorry,” Trace mumbled, bowing his head. “I know that. I’m just very overprotective of you.”

I swallowed thickly, feeling like he’d punched me in the gut. Trace had always been protective of me, but after I was nearly murdered he gave that word a whole new meaning.

“I highly doubt Nick’s going to kill me,” my voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Trace repeated, “I can’t help but freak out a bit when it comes to you.”

“It’s been two years, Trace. I’ve moved on,”
somewhat
, “and you should too.”

His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.

“I wish that bastard hadn’t killed himself. He deserved to rot in prison for what he did to you,” Trace seethed, his teeth gritted.

“At least, he can never hurt anyone else now,” I whispered, feeling very small. For some reason, whenever the conversation turned to Aaron, I always felt like a small child and wanted to curl into a ball.