Defending Serenty (13 page)

Shit. I have a God given talent for pissing
him off, that’s for sure.

“She’s going to be pushy,” I explain. “And
nosy. What are you gonna tell her when she asks what you do for a
living?”

He actually chuckles at that. “The same thing
I tell the IRS. I’m a mechanic and part owner of a very successful
gym.”

But can I keep the rest from my mother? He
must see my conflict.

“It will be fine, Serenity. Don’t worry so
much.”

Don’t worry so much? He’s lost his mind. I’m
always going to worry about him I realize with a sinking sensation.
Between the fights and the other stuff, I have to think about what
happens if he gets arrested or if he gets hurt or worse. Can I live
that kind of life? I don’t know. I’m not ready to walk away,
though. Not yet.

Later, we ride to the mall in Mom’s car. She
chatters all the way, mostly sharing embarrassing stories about my
childhood. Somehow I end up in the backseat and at crucial story
moments, Trace turns and grins. He is enjoying it entirely too
much. Once we’re parked, I jump out of the car, glad to escape the
closed confines and non-stop all-about-Lynn-fest. My mom is doing a
hard sale. Either she really likes Trace, or she’s decided to get
serious about her give-me-grandchildren-now plea.

At the door, the three of us split up and
agree to meet back at the car for lunch. When the Judge died, me
and Mom had found both life and Christmas shopping much easier to
handle diplomatically. We’d instituted a three gift limit. Most
years we wait until a couple of days before Christmas, hit the mall
together, and shop till we drop. It is one of the highlights of the
season for both of us.

I don’t have a long list: my secretary, Mom,
Honor and Grace, Faye and something for Trace and Walker. Years
ago, Walker and I came up with a twenty dollar rule for Christmas
presents. Thank God, he is a reader. That makes his gift easy.

I go to the bookstore first, forcing myself
to find something for him and get out before I waste the day. Next
I go to the bath store and get several gifts--one for all the women
on my list. The other two gifts for Joanne will not be so easy, and
I don’t have a clue what to get Trace. Wandering back out into the
mall, I head for one of the large department stores and run into
her. She is already loaded down with bags.

“Good grief, Mom. Who are you shopping for
this year?”

“Oh, you know,” she answers waving a hand in
the air. “Friends. Daughters. Boyfriends.”

She loops her arm through mine and we amble
on. Here it comes. The Trace interrogation.

“I like him,” Joanne says. “He’ll stick.”

I snort. “Yeah, Mom. We’ll see.”

Joanne looks over at me and arches an
eyebrow. “That boy’s loved you for years, Lynn. He isn’t going
anywhere.”

Surprised at the conviction in my mother’s
voice, I frown. “You think? And ten years of silence is proof of
his undying love, huh?”

“Yes. It is.”

I stop and pull her out of the flow of
traffic.

“Are you nuts, Mom?” My laugh is teary. “How
is that exactly? Because I’m not seeing it.”

Joanne grabs my hand and squeezes it.

“You come from very different backgrounds.
You’re a police officer. He’s a...”

“Killer?” I ask coldly.

My mother steps back and presses her lips
together. “I may have appeared to not be paying attention before
your father died, but I know exactly what happened that night.”

I sigh. It is the second mention of my father
that day. I try to ignore the reference my mother makes to the
shell, to the false façade she was forced to live with when the
Judge was still alive. Joanne is happy now, free to be herself, and
she is correct. Calling Trace a killer isn’t a fair
characterization. Is he capable of it? Sure. But it’s not like the
event was calculated murder. It was self-defense and defending me.
He’s more than paid for that act of protection.

“You’re right. That wasn’t fair,” I respond.
“But, Mom…He’s not what he seems.”

She sighs. “I know and he isn’t going to
change for you, Lynn. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you or
that he won’t take care of you.”

I can’t believe she’s being so laid back
about it. We resume walking.

“The real question is--how do
you
feel
about him?”

I press my lips together and stare straight
ahead. How do I feel about Trace? How far do I dare let myself
go?

“I don’t know,” I say softly. “Am I feeling
guilt, or lust, or what? I just don’t know right now. A
relationship with him would be damned near impossible.”

Joanne pats my arm. “The best things always
take work, honey.”

We split up and I force my concerns from my
mind. I hit the perfume counter. I pick up new scents for me and
Mom, and then wander around looking for something for Trace. I
don’t see anything that strikes me as right. When my stomach
growls, I check my watch and decide to head back to the car. Maybe
something along the way will catch my eye. I run into Trace halfway
back, and can’t help but smile. Most people give him a wide berth,
but several women crane their heads to get a better look.

“Hey,” I say falling into step beside
him.

“Hey,” he answers. He has a couple of bags
and grins when I try to sneak a look, moving them to his other
hand.

“What do you want for Christmas, Trace?” I
laugh. “I should have asked you that before we left the house.”

He grabs my hand and brings my knuckles to
his lips. His nibble sends shivers down my spine.

“I already have it,” he says simply.

“Oh.”

My voice catches in my throat. Thankfully,
I’m saved from saying anything by Mom’s arrival.

“Get everything you need?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I have some time tomorrow
to finish.”

Dinner goes smoothly and before I know it I’m
back at my house, alone with Trace. I imagine a lazy afternoon in
bed but his phone rings almost as soon as we walk inside. I know
when he hangs up he’s doing something for Hunter. Something either
illegal or skating very close to the edge of the law. I can’t do
anything to stop it based on nothing but instinct though.

“I have to go,” he says.

What can I say to stop him? Anything at all?
Looking into his eyes, I know I’m never gonna be able to change
him. This is always gonna be a part of who he is. What he is. If I
want to keep him in my life I have to accept this side of him and
pray for the best. I don’t know if I can do it, but now is probably
not the best time to have that debate. Or argument. It’s probably
going to be an argument. So I just nod and walk him to the
door.

“I won’t ask, Trace, but please be
careful.”

He wraps an arm around my waist, strokes the
side of my neck with his free hand. The touch is feather soft,
tender and his gaze searches mine. It sends a shiver through me and
I experience a burst of fear. That look… It’s like he’s trying to
memorize me. Like he might not return. Oh God. I want him to come
back. I need him to.

“You’re coming back aren’t you?”

He gives me a half smile. “Yeah, baby. I’m
coming back.”

But I’m scared and the kiss he lays on me
doesn’t make me feel better. It’s deep and soulful. Possessive and
gentle. We’re both breathing hard when he lifts his head. He
presses his lips against my forehead a minute before stepping back
and leaving the house. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? My
phone rings before I can chase off after him, which is a good
thing. He wouldn’t appreciate my interference. It’s Faye and before
I know it she’s ignored my protests and enters the house. She holds
up a bag.

“Ice cream intervention. And wine,” she
continues drolly when I spot the other bag.

I laugh and she follows me to the kitchen.
After we have a spoon, the chocolate fudge ripple is open, and a
glass she gets right to the point.

“I was expecting crying and sad eyes but
since that isn’t what I see, I’m guessing Hunter sent me here for a
different reason.”

I pause with the spoon halfway to my mouth.
“Explain that,” I order.

She shrugs. “He called and ordered me to keep
you company tonight. He didn’t elaborate so I figured you and Trace
broke it off.”

No. If anything we’re getting closer. I’m
sure Hunter is aware of that so Faye must be here for a different
reason. Is he distracting me so I don’t look into whatever Trace is
doing for him?

“I didn’t know y’all knew each other,” I
say.

She shakes her head. “I don’t really and this
came through Ryder, actually.”

She sounds annoyed when she mentions Hunter’s
right hand man and I cock an eyebrow.

“What’s that all about?”

“What?” she asks defensively.

Wow. Are we all going to fall to River City
bad boys? The idea is almost funny.

“You and Ryder, huh?”

I can see them together. If Ryder would learn
to keep his dick in his pants. He was a charmer, a player. I feel
bad for Faye if she wants him because I’m not sure he could do a
serious relationship with a woman if he was paid to.

Faye snorts. “Oh hell no. That man? I know
better. He’s smoking hot and he knows it. And is happy to share it
with anyone who asks.”

“That sucks,” I agree.

“Anyway, I wanna hear all about Trace.”

I take a sip of wine. I’m not sure I’m ready
to talk about him yet. Or my feelings for him.

“Oh, come on, Lynn,” she says softly. “I can
see you want to talk about it.”

“I have no idea what we’re doing.”

“But?”

“But I’m not walking away. It would be the
smart thing to do but I just can’t.”

“You still love him.”

I have to face this truth. I nod slowly. “I
think so, yeah.”

“And the rest? His job?”

I give her a pointed look. “You know you’re
here to distract me from that.”

She offers a small smile. “You’re letting
me.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “If I want him I have to
accept that part of him. He isn’t going to stop and if I insisted
he’d just come to resent me.”

“Has he offered to go straight?” she asks
disbelievingly.

“No. I haven’t asked and I’m not going
to.”

Mostly because I’m sure he’d say no way in
hell and then I really would be a broken hearted mess. I don’t want
to know what he’s up to tonight. Well I want to know enough to know
he’s safe, but that’s it. I think we can both live with that.
Several hours later I get to test that belief.

I haven’t slept well so I hear his car pull
up. I glance at the clock--three A.M.--before leaning over to turn
on the bedside lamp. A second later the front door closes and he
walks down the hall. I sit up and watch as he enters the room. He
comes straight to me, leans down to cup my face, and gives me a
quick kiss before stepping back.

“Why aren’t you asleep, baby?” he asks he
starts to remove his clothes.

“I was. I heard you pull into the
driveway.”

He gives me a disbelieving look. “You aren’t
that light a sleeper.”

“Guess I’ve gotten used to not sleeping
alone,” I say a little sheepishly.

He joins me and we roll to our sides to face
each other. I look him over and don’t see any new bruises or
injuries.

“You’re okay?”

“Do you want me to tell you, Serenity? It has
to stay between us.”

I actually think that over a minute before I
shake my head no. There’s a flash of disappointment in his eyes and
I wiggle closer.

“Maybe after I resign. It isn’t safe
now.”

I can’t believe I said that but I don’t want
to go through another night like tonight either. Worried out of my
mind. I make another split second decision.

“I’m going to the fights.”

His eyes widen. “Why?”

“Because it’s important to you,” I say
softly. I know my first refusal to go disappointed him. “And if
anything went wrong…I need to be close.”

“Hey,” he said, taking my face in his hands.
“Nothing is going to happen. And tonight wasn’t dangerous, I
promise.”

And then he kisses me and this is the last
thing I want to talk about. He rolls over, pressing me into the
mattress, and the comfort of his weight on top of me makes me sigh.
He’s real. He’s here with me where we’re both starting to accept we
belong.

Chapter Ten

Serenity

I step out of the bathtub and peek through
the door to see Trace still sleeping, sprawled bare-ass naked
across my bed. He’s out for a few hours, I’m sure. It was three in
the morning before he finally came back. And after we’d talked he’d
been insatiable. I feel used in a good way, a little sore and
totally satisfied. There might be an upside to this criminal life
thing. I can’t believe that thought even crosses my mind. I’m
definitely getting used to having him around. I don’t have time to
think about the ramifications now. How far I might be willing to go
for this man.

Hurriedly getting dressed, I drag a brush
through my hair and pull it back into a ponytail. Monroe has
promised me I can speak to Magee’s crew again and I need to get a
move on before they leave early for the holiday. Then I have some
last minute Christmas shopping to take care of. Alone.

I pause at my kitchen door and frown. Should
I leave him a note? Do we have that kind of relationship? I scrawl
a ‘be back in a bit’ message and stick it on the fridge with a
magnet. I’m running behind, but I stop in to see Walker first.
Jimmy Richards meets me at the door.

“He’s in the back, detective.”

I nod. “Thanks, Jimmy.”

I find Walker outside the back door spraying
off an old car. Stopping beside him, I cross my arms over my chest,
shivering a little against the winter chill.

“New car?”

He grins. “My Christmas present to myself. A
fifty-seven Bel Air. She ain’t much now, but she’ll be awesome when
she’s restored.”