Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (66 page)

I looked down at the table, overridden with guilt as I remembered what Warren had told me. He hadn’t told Trace the whole truth, but he had told me for some reason. By the time we got back from our road trip—I couldn’t even think about it.

After what Warren had confessed to me, I’d told him that I would talk Trace out of the road trip. But he hadn’t wanted that.

He’d taken me in his arms, given me a great big bear hug and said, “Don’t do that, Olivia. Trace needs this. I see it in his eyes. Go and have fun. Live for me.”

It had been hard to say goodbye to him after that, but I’d done it, because that was what he wanted.

I gazed across the table at Trace. We were both lost in thought. Slowly, his eyes met mine. The sadness that swirled in the green depths was reflected in my own.

I knew he was thinking, not only of Gramps, but of his dad and what had happened to me.

I knew it was selfish of me, but I’d never really stopped to think about how he had been affected by what happened to me. I could see in his eyes how much he had suffered watching me lie in that hospital bed and then with the slow recovery process. At the time, I’d only been able to think about how
I
was hurting. But Trace had hurt too.

The waitress set our food on the table and we both snapped back to reality. He forced a smile and pushed his glasses further up his nose since they kept slipping down.

I hated seeing him so sad. I only ever wanted him to be happy. When you love someone unconditionally, when they hurt you hurt, and right now I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stand it. From now on, I was going to make sure this road trip was only about the two of us and all the fun we could have.

I eyed the massive sandwich in front of me and smiled at him, hoping to lighten the mood. “I still don’t know how you expect me to eat this.”

“You’ll manage,” he chuckled, picking up his own sandwich and taking a massive bite. “Delicious,” he said around his mouthful of food. A dollop of coleslaw sat in the corner of his mouth. I reached across the table and wiped it away with a swipe of my thumb. His eyes dilated as I took my thumb between my lips and sucked it away.

“Woman, we’re in a restaurant and you’re purposely trying to turn me on. That is so not fair.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I laughed. “Honestly.”

“Mhmm,
suuure
,” he narrowed his eyes.

I shook my head, fighting a smile. I picked up the sandwich and attempted to take a bite without the whole thing falling apart.

“Mmm,” I moaned, “this is actually really good.”

“See?” He brightened. “Don’t doubt me.”

“When have I ever doubted you?”

“You doubt my awesomeness on a regular basis. It wounds my delicate heart,” he placed a hand over his chest.

“There’s nothing about you that’s delicate,” I snorted.

“I am delicate … like a little flower,” he joked.

I was glad that we were both able to put our earlier conversation behind. But that was one of my favorite things about Trace. He was always genuinely happy and able to make jokes. He didn’t like to dwell on bad things.

Something I had learned was the bad things don’t matter, it’s our reaction to them that does.

Darkness had fallen by the time we made it to Philadelphia. Trace found a small motel and pulled into the parking lot.

“You said you didn’t want five star. Does this suffice?” He asked.

The place definitely wasn’t the best, but it didn’t appear to be the worst either, it was perfect.

“It’s great,” I smiled.

The truth was, I didn’t need fancy hotels or cars or lots of money. I had Trace and that’s all I’d ever need. Everything else was just the … icing on the cake, as some people liked to say.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, slipping out of the car. “Lock the doors … just in case,” he warned. “This area seems a bit sketchy.”

“Sure thing,” I saluted him, causing him to chuckle.

He returned a few minutes later with the room key and I unlocked the doors, stepping outside, and stretching my sore muscles. Riding in a car practically the whole day was not the most comfortable thing.

Trace grabbed both of our duffel bags, carrying them easily. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle at the sight of him carrying my flowery bag. It was a stark contrast compared to his plain black one.

I followed him down the pathway a short ways. He stopped in front of a room that had once been labeled 3, but now half of the number was missing, its imprint still visible in the slight discoloration of paint on the door.

“Here goes nothing,” he pushed the door open.

I immediately pinched my nose closed. “Oh my gosh! Did something die in there? It smells awful!”

His lips turned down in a frown and his brows furrowed together. “The dude seriously wants to charge me a hundred dollars a night for this dump?” He asked incredulously.

“I’d rather sleep in the car,” I took a step away, gagging at the pungent smell, and too scared to glance in the room and see what it actually looked like. If it was as frightful as the smell—I shuddered at the thought.

“I think we might have to,” he closed the door. “I know you said no fancy hotels, but I refuse to sleep anywhere that smells like five people died in it.”

He put our bags back in the car and then went inside to argue with the man working there in the hopes of a refund.

I buckled my seatbelt and then double-checked to make sure I’d locked the doors. After smelling that room, Trace was right to be concerned about possible creepers.

Ten minutes later, he came outside shaking his head. I unlocked the doors and he settled himself inside. “That fucker only wanted to refund me fifty percent of what I paid.”

“Is he crazy?” I gasped. “We didn’t even go inside the room!”

“But apparently, since we opened the door housekeeping has to clean the room,” he shook his head in exasperation.

“What housekeeping?” I grumbled. “If they actually had someone to clean the rooms they wouldn’t smell like that.”

“Exactly!” He exclaimed with a small chuckle.

“Please tell me you got all your money back?”

“After threatening to call the cops and report this place he finally gave me the money back,” he put the car in reverse and drove around, looking for somewhere else to stay.

“I can’t believe they wanted to charge you a hundred dollars in the first place,” I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It really is,” he sighed, scanning the streets for another motel to stop.

Everything was either full or looked too gross to even contemplate.

Finally, when were both about to give up, we spotted a place.

Trace pulled into the parking lot and instead of sitting in the car, I followed him inside.

The place wasn’t grand, which I knew it wouldn’t be, but it was clean and didn’t smell like decaying flesh. I almost gaged at the thought of the putrid smell that the other motel had possessed.

I found a vending machine and got a packet of Skittles for Trace and M&M’s for myself.

“Hey,” he grabbed me by the waist when he spotted me. “Don’t take off like that. I thought someone took you.”

“Sure you did,” I rolled my eyes.

“If they had, I could take them,” he flexed his arm muscles. While Trace was tall and lean, he was also muscular. It was a lethal combination … especially when he whipped out his panty-dropping smile. I hadn’t stood a chance against his charms when I met him.

“I know you could,” I smiled up at him. He had already proved that he was more than capable of protecting me when Aaron attacked me and he managed to get the psycho off of me. He’d punched Aaron so hard he’d given him a concussion. The jerk deserved more than that, but he was dead now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

Trace was my hero in more ways than one. Not only did he save my life that day, but from the moment I met him he taught me how to live … and eventually how to love.

His lips brushed against my forehead and my eyes fluttered closed at the feather light touch. Even something as simple as that managed to make me feel so many different emotions.

“Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin with his words, “let’s get our stuff.”

He grabbed the duffel bags and we headed towards our room.

I crossed my fingers, praying that this one was nothing like the other one.

The door squeaked open and like a chicken I closed my eyes.

“Olivia?” Trace’s voice sounded from inside the room. “Why are you standing outside?”

I hesitantly cracked one eye open.

The room was bathed in a pale orange glow from the ugly bedside lamp. The bed covers looked like they were from the nineties, with some kind of palm leaf design on them, which made no sense seeing as we were in Pennsylvania, not Florida.

“It’s not bad,” I stepped inside, looking over the carpet and walls for mysterious unexplainable stains. Thankfully, there weren’t many, but I’d be keeping my shoes on anyway.

The place was about as nice as any motel could be, and it didn’t smell bad, which was a plus. Not even the scent of cigarettes lingered in the air.

Trace stepped behind me and closed the door, latching the deadbolt. I made sure the blinds were completely shut before stripping out of my clothes.

Trace had his back to me, completely oblivious to what I was doing.

I unclasped my bra and threw it at his back.

He turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. A grin spread across his face as he said, “My little vixen.”

At one time I would’ve blushed at his words. But I was a different, more confident, woman now.

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him into the bathroom and closing the door.

“I like where this is heading,” he smirked before lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine.

He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clasping the hair at the nape of his neck between my fingers. He shuffled towards the shower, reaching inside to turn it on. I pulled his shirt off and tossed it into the corner of the bathroom, then gently removed his glasses and set them on the counter.

He nipped at my lips and chin gently with his teeth, driving me crazy like he knew it would.

I slid down his body, unbuttoning his jeans. He grabbed a condom packet from the pocket and kicked them off.

Both still in our underwear, he pulled me into the shower.

I shrieked at the cold temperature but he silenced me with a kiss. The water began to warm … or maybe it was my internal temperature … but it didn’t matter.

Our lips moved in sync, our bodies melded together. We truly were made for each other in more ways than one.

He kissed me slowly, teasing me. His tongue slipped between my lips and I gasped in pleasure.

A part of me had thought that after all this time we might get … bored with each other or something, but honestly, we were more in love than ever.

I cupped his stubbled cheeks in my hands, deepening the kiss. “Trace,” I pleaded between breaths of air. “I need—”

“What do you need, baby?” He cut me off. “Tell me.”

“I need you,” I pleaded.

“You have me,” he kissed the sensitive skin of my neck, causing me to shiver. I had forgotten about the water beating down on us and was completely absorbed in the moment.

He tore my panties off and they landed on the bottom of the shower with a wet thud. His boxers soon followed. Then he was lifting me, pressing my back against the tile, and slipping inside me. An embarrassing moan of pleasure escaped me and he hummed in response.

My eyes met his lust filled green ones and my muscles tightened. That look in his eyes, the one that said he loved me completely, always managed to get to me. I never thought I’d have a man look at me the way Trace does. With so much love and devotion. I thought that kind of love only existed in fairytales. But it was real. I had it and everyone should get to experience it.

A breathy moan escaped my lips and I gripped his shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against the skin of my neck before peppering it with kisses.

I wanted to tell him that he was wrong.
He
was the beautiful one. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. I didn’t believe there was anyone else as kind, amazing, and pure of soul as Trace. From tidbits he’d confided in me over the years, I knew after his dad died he’d gone off the deep end, and even before that he’d been more concerned with being the rich party boy … but somehow he found himself and the person he truly was, was quite remarkable. More people should aspire to be like him.

“Trace,” I moaned, my hold on him tightening.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

He kissed me deeply and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I let go, clinging to the high, knowing he’d catch me when I came crashing back down.