Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (33 page)

Before I could respond, he was kissing me. His tongue pressed against my lips and my mouth opened in response. My body curled against his and my hands pressed against his toned stomach. He didn’t seem to mind that he was getting wet. His hands left my cheeks and he grasped my waist, lifting me up so that I could wrap my legs around his waist. I clutched his stubbled cheeks between my hands and deepened the kiss. Salt from the ocean water clung to my lips, mingling with our kiss. I lightly nipped his bottom lip with my teeth and he growled low in his throat. The sound sent warmth straight to my belly. He gently lowered me down his body and kissed the end of my nose as he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. His chest heaved with labored breaths.

“Woman,” he whispered, “you’ll be my undoing.”

“I think I could say the same for you,” my voice was as breathless as his. “That was some kiss.”

“I’m
very
skilled,” he murmured huskily, lowering his head to press his lips against my neck. My pulse jumped in response. He chuckled and bit the skin there.

“Ow!” I jumped, grabbing my neck. “That hurt!” I smacked his solid muscular chest. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Oh, baby,” he gazed at me with lust-filled green eyes, “the moment isn’t over. It’s only beginning.”

With that, he tossed me over his shoulder once more and carried me into the house and into the bedroom.

I guessed I’d get the grand tour later…and I was perfectly okay with that.

I padded into the state-of-the-art kitchen and opened the refrigerator doors. My mouth dropped open as I marveled at all the food. It was fully stocked with anything you could possibly want.

“Trace!” I called. “Are you hungry?”

“Um, yeah,” he called back from the laundry room, “you helped me work up quite the appetite, woman.”

“I don’t know what to make,” I responded.

A moment later he stepped into the kitchen with a puzzled expression. “Is the fridge not stocked? It’s supposed to be.”

“Oh, it is,” I assured him. “There’s a lot to choose from.”

He peered into the refrigerator and pointed to a packet of hotdogs. “I’ll grill those. Why don’t you make some mac n’ cheese?”

“Sure, I can do that…do you mind telling me where everything is?” I motioned to the large kitchen. “If you leave me on my own it might take me a while.”

He chuckled, striding across the room and opening a door. “Macaroni will be in here and—” he opened a cabinet and pulled out a small pot, “—here’s this. Think you can find the sink?”

“You’re such an ass!” While my words weren’t very nice, I couldn’t keep the laugh from my voice.

Chuckling, he said, “You know you love me. I’ll finish with the laundry and start the grill.”

I stared at the industrial grade stovetop, wondering why anyone needed something so fancy in a vacation home. In fact, everything in this kitchen was a chef’s dream.

Shaking my head, I grabbed the pot and filled it with hot water, placing it on the stovetop I turned the knob and the blue flames sparked to life.

Trace came back a few minutes later and grabbed an apron, tying it around his body.

“Man Bib?” I read the slogan printed on the apron in red letters. “Really, Trace?” I arched a brow, trying not to snicker at the ridiculous piece of fabric.

“Yes, really. I thought I’d go for the less offensive one. There’s another one,” he pointed to the back of the pantry door where more aprons hung, “that says, ‘”It’s all fun and games until someone burns their wiener’…On second thought,” he removed the apron he’d put on, “that one is much more appropriate.”

Grinning, he grabbed the hotdogs, a plate and fork, and sauntered outside onto the deck.

The water started boiling and I dumped the macaroni noodles into it. I realized that I had a problem in the fact that I hadn’t asked Trace where bowls were.

I looked around at all the cabinets, knowing it would take a while to find them.

By the time I found a large enough bowl to stir the macaroni in, it was ready.

Luckily, in my search for a bowl I’d also found a strainer.

I drained the water and dumped the noodles in the bowl, adding butter, the powdered cheese, and a splash of milk. It took another minute, but I found a spoon to stir it with.

When it was ready, I carried the bowl outside, along with forks, and placed it on the table.

Trace was already taking the hotdogs off the grill. With a smile, he set them on the table and headed inside. He returned with two plates, hotdog buns, as well as ketchup and mustard.

The grill was part of an outdoor kitchen, complete with a refrigerator, which Trace grabbed two bottles of water from.

“Eat up,” he smirked, pulling out a chair to sit down.

“You don’t need to be so bossy,” I smiled, fixing my hotdog, and sliding the ketchup bottle over to him.

“Oh,” he eyed me, “I think you like it when I get bossy.”

“Puh-lease,” I rolled my eyes, scooping some macaroni onto my plate.

He propped his elbows on the table, raising a dark brow as he watched me closely. “What?” I asked when he continued to stare. “Is there something on my face? My hair?” I looked down to see if I dropped something on myself, it really wouldn’t surprise me, but there was nothing there.

“No,” he murmured, “just looking at my wife.” A slow smile spread across his face and he repeated, “My wife. You have no idea how much I love the sound of that.”

“I hope you still like the sound of it ten years from now,” I laughed, spearing some macaroni. For some reason, I’d always hated eating it with a spoon.

“Ten. Twenty. Fifty years from now, it doesn’t matter,” he spread his arms wide. “I will always be happy to call you my wife.”

“Good.”

“Will you be happy to call me your husband that many years from now?”

“Do you even need to ask?” I raised a brow.

He chuckled, scratching his chin. “No, I guess not. How could you ever get sick of me? I’m the coolest person ever.”

By the time we finished eating and cleaned up, Trace had given me very detailed reasons why he was the ‘coolest person ever,’ some of which made me blush.

After everything was cleaned up, and darkness was beginning to fall, I found myself mesmerized by all the fireflies in the yard.

I had never seen so many at one time before and I watched in awe as their lights blinked on and off, illuminating the sky like little fireworks.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathed.

“That’s one of my favorite things about this place.” Trace stood beside me, his hands in his jeans pockets. “When I’m here, it’s like I’m a part of nature. The animals aren’t scared of us and they’re free to roam around undisturbed. Do you know,” he turned to me, “one time I was standing right here,” he pointed to the spot where he stood on the deck, “and a bear walked right by, stopped and looked at me, then went on its way.”

“A bear?” I squeaked, looking around in fright. “There are bears in these woods?”

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course there are bears. Those are woods, and that’s typically where they live.”

“Still,” I shuddered, “I don’t want to encounter a bear.”

“Live a little,” he reached for my hand, guiding me down the deck steps.

“Where are we going? You’re not going to dunk me in the ocean again are you?” I tried to pry my hand from his.

“No,” he chuckled. “Nothing like that.”

He stopped in the middle of the yard, and surrounded by all the fireflies and the chirping of the crickets, he pulled me against him and began to sway us to the music of nature.

I closed my eyes and laid my head against his chest, breathing in the moment.

The salty ocean air swirled around us, and the fireflies blinked cheerily.

I smiled to myself as his warmth soaked into me and I knew that I’d be enjoying many more moments like this for the rest of my life.

“Mmm,” I hummed, stretching my legs and arms, but keeping my eyes closed. I didn’t want to wake up.

“Wake up,” Trace coaxed and his lips skimmed over my bare stomach where my t-shirt had ridden up. “I have somewhere I want us to go.”

“I don’t wanna,” I tried to roll away from him, grasping onto the pillow.

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.”

“What time is it?” I mumbled.

“Early,” he chuckled, his breath skimming against my bare skin and I shivered.

Slowly, I cracked open one eye and peered at the sexy man hovering above me. “How early?”

“That’s not important,” he grinned.

“It is,” I threw an arm over my eyes. “I want to sleep.”

He swirled a finger around my belly button and my back arched off the bed as a small moan escaped my lips.

“Quit it,” I warned.

“Nope,” he jostled the bed as he climbed off.

I rolled over, thinking I had won, and curled my body against the other pillow.

But my victory was short lived.

Trace threw the covers off, grabbed one of my ankles, and pulled me from the bed.

I shrieked, thinking I was about to fall from the bed onto my face, but he caught me.

“You jerk!” I smacked his chest and pried myself from his arms.

He laughed heartily, clutching his stomach. “I know I’ve made you mad when you start calling me names.”

“Yeah, well,” I smoothed my shirt down, “I want to sleep.”

“And I told you that I want to show you something. We have to hurry or we’ll miss it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to see it,” I grumbled, heading back to the bed.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed my arm, halting my steps. “Get dressed and be downstairs in five minutes. I mean it,” he pointed at me sternly like a father scolding a child. “Put a bathing suit on under your clothes and be sure to wear sneakers.”

“I hate you so much right now,” I stared longingly at the plush king-sized bed where I’d been dreaming so peacefully a few minutes before.

“You won’t be saying that soon,” he grinned, releasing me as he backed towards the door. “Remember, five minutes,” he held up a hand, wiggling his fingers.

I glared at him as he left the room. A part of me was tempted to climb in the bed and go back to sleep, but I knew Trace would only wake me up again so it was pointless.

I scurried into the bathroom, brushing my hair and braiding it to the side. I brushed my teeth but didn’t bother with any makeup since I was running short on time. I changed into my bikini. It was pale blue with a floral design and the bottoms had ruffles on the side. I’d been looking to buy a one piece but Avery had talked me into this one and I was actually happy I’d gotten it instead.

I pulled shorts on over the bottoms and grabbed a plain t-shirt, figuring the morning air would be cool.

Trace was starting back up the steps when I rounded the corner.

“Coming to get me?”

“I thought you fell asleep standing up,” he smiled, waiting for me on the second to last step.

“No,” I shook my head. “You might have spanked me if I did.”

“Any excuse to touch your ass,” he smirked, reaching for my butt. With a screech, I lurched away from his clawing hand.

“Nice try,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“There’s always later,” he winked.

“Now,” I looked around, “what was so important that I had to get up while it’s still dark?” I pointed to the window where the sky was black and stars still twinkled.

“Come on now, I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.” He opened the doors that led to the deck and waved me over.

“Outside?” I asked. “With the bears?”

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes. “And the moose, squirrels, deer…shall I continue?”

I marched forward and out the door. He jogged down the steps and waved for me to follow him. Shaking my head, and grumbling unintelligibly under my breath, I reluctantly followed him.

He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and turned it on.

“We need a flashlight because?” I prompted.

“We’re going into the woods.” He quickly grabbed my hand so that I couldn’t make a run for it.

“The woods? In the
dark?
Are you crazy?”

“No,” he stopped, looking at me seriously, “I’m a boy scout.”

I stared at him a moment before laughter burst out of my throat. “You can’t be serious?!” I cried, wiping away tears.