Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia #1) (40 page)

“I don’t know,” I choked as the sky darkened above us with an impending summer rain shower.

“You don’t know?” He repeated. “Do you not know me at all, Olivia? I know I’m not the most open guy in the world, it’s not in my nature to confess everything about myself, but I’ve opened up to you, more than I have for almost anybody,” his eyes searched my face. “Why can’t you see that? When I’m with you, I’m
me
,” he growled angrily. “For
years
, I played the part of this happy rich party boy, but the truth is, that’s never been me. The real me,” he pointed a thumb at his chest, holding me securely against the wall with his other hand, “is the guy you’ve known from the beginning, Olivia. I’m Trace Alexander Wentworth. I’m a mechanic and I live above the garage I work at,” he wet his lips with a quick flick of his tongue. “I like plaid shirts, not tuxes. My favorite color is red…sometimes green, depending on my mood. And there’s this girl that I care about more than anything. She’s beautiful and she’s stubborn but she captured my heart from the moment she opened her mouth and started rattling about Prince Charming coming along to save her. That’s
you
Olivia and no one else.” His eyes and words were fierce.

My chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and the stone
wall was hot against my back.

“I’m sorry,” my lower lip trembled.

“You should be sorry,” his brow furrowed together as he gazed down at me with intense green eyes. “You’re
everything
to me.”

Before I could reply, he crushed his lips against mine. Our tongues tangled together as he lifted me effortlessly
, my legs wrapping around his waist. “Everything,” he whispered between our lips. “You are
everything
,” he growled the last word.

I gripped his face in my hands, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.

He gripped my thighs, pressing into me.

“Let’s get out of here,” he growled, pulling away.

I nodded, my body and brain having turned into Jell-O.

“You’re lucky you’re hard to stay mad at,” he grinned as he took my hand
, and led me to the parking garage. “It’s impossible, actually, for me to stay mad at you.”

“Why?” I asked.

He stopped walking, as we reached the car, and stared down at me.

“Because, I see the hurt in your eyes
, and I know you believe whatever crazy thing it is you’re thinking in your head, and I can’t stay mad at that,” he said firmly, opening the passenger door for me.

I
slid inside and no words were spoken between us. Glances were exchanged and small touches, but nothing more.

As we pulled into Pete’s Garage
, it began to rain. The water slid down the windshield in thick torrents.

I prepared myself to make a run for it, but Trace grabbed my arm.

“What?” I asked with wide eyes.

He grinned crookedly
. “Dance with me, Olivia,” he pleaded huskily.

A smile touched my face. “That sounds wonderful.”

I slipped from the car and the rain immediately drenched my dress and body. My wet hair clung to my forehead and when I met Trace in the middle of the parking lot, he pulled the elastic band loose that held my braid in place. He shook my hair out around me and murmured, “Beautiful.”

Rain slick
ed off his skin, dripping from his nose and chin.

He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me to him. “And now,” he smiled cockily, “we dance.”

He dipped me low and the rain pelted my exposed neck and chest. The rain felt amazing against my warm skin and the asphalt fogged around us as the rain cooled its heated temperature.

Trace spun me around and we kicked at the puddles that formed in the potholes.

I laughed and smiled and danced and lived.

Trace grabbed me around the waist and spun us in circles.

“Trace!” I squealed, holding onto his shoulders. His plaid shirt and white wife-beater clung to his skin.

He lowered me to the ground
, and dipped me again, placing a kiss on my neck.

The feel of the rain, mixed with his lips, caused me to shake.

Raising me up, he took my right hand, and used it to twirl me.

We both completely forgot about our fight and enjoyed the moment.

I licked rain off my lips as I danced around. The cool liquid tickled my tongue. I pushed my clingy wet hair off my forehead.

“This is amazing!” I cried, spreading my arms out wide.

“It’s only rain,” Trace chuckled, watching me.

“It’s beautiful,” I chimed, twirling so my wet hair fanned around me.

He grabbed me again, planting a kiss on my wet lips, and we danced together.

I’m sure we looked crazy and awkward to anyone passing by, but from my perspective, it was perfect.

Trace lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist. I gripped the short wet strands of his hair between my fingers and leaned my head back to look up at the sky. I let out a cry of joy.

I looked down at Trace and the warmth in his eyes melted me.

I moved my hands from his hair, to his cheeks, and lowered my head to kiss him.

The rain clung to our kiss, making it that much sweeter.

Those three little words desperately wanted to escape my throat but I pushed them down. Now, wasn’t the time. Not when I had acted the way I did at the restaurant.

When I finally told Trace I loved him, I wanted it to be special, and I didn’t want the confrontation with his ex to cloud the moment. I wanted it to only be about the two of us.

“Have you had enough dancing?” He asked, meeting my stare with an intensity that caused my whole body to quake.

I nodded.

“Thank God,” he crushed his lips against mine as he slowly lowered me down his rain-slicked body. We were both soaked to the bone, but I had never felt better in all my life.

Like clumsy teenagers, we made our way up to the apartment.

I found my back pressed against the door as his lips explored mine and his hands fumbled to get the key in.

Finally, he managed, and we went slipping into the apartment.

He kicked the door closed behind us and grabbed my cheeks in his large hands.

We stumbled into the bedroom and crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

We were both in a hurry and awkward in our effort to rid one another of the wet garments stuck to our bodies. His combat boots fell to floor with a clatter and he lifted my dress over the top of my head. It hit the floor with a wet thump.

He sat up and pulled his drenched shirts over his head and they joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

I reached out and undid the belt on his jeans, popping the button, and lowering the zipper. He kicked them off and covered my body with his.

His hard length pressed against me and I hesitantly ran my finger over the curve. He shuddered above me.

“God, you have no idea how good that feels,” he moaned.

I pushed the fabric of his boxers down so there was nothing separating my touch.

He pressed his face into my neck, kissing a tender spot just below my ear.

“I need you, now,” he panted.

“Then take what you need,” I breathed, meeting his smoldering gaze.

Kissing me deeply, he removed my bra and panties.

Standing up, and stepping out of his boxers, he grabbed a condom and rolled it on.

“Those,” he pointed to my heels, “stay on.”

“You really like these, don’t you?” I smirked, lifting a foot in his direction.

“You have no idea,” he
growled, sliding me up the bed so that my head rested on the pillows.

He slid into me in one hard thrust and gripped my hips.

“Oh my God,” I cried.

A long drawn out moan escaped between Trace’s perfect pouty lips. “You always feel so good, Olivia. It’s like you were made for me
, and only
me
,” he reaffirmed his words with a hard thrust.

I grabbed his forearms. “Only you,” I panted, staring into his eyes as he pound
ed into me. “I’m yours.”

“You’re mine,” he growled, lowering to seal my lips with a kiss. His tongue flicked against my lips and my mouth opened to allow him entrance.

The hard, rapid, pace had me coming sooner than normal.

My fingernails raked his back as I screamed.

“Yes,” he bit his lip, “scream for me baby. Let me hear you.”

“Ha
rder,” I panted, and he obliged, quickening his thrusts.

Sweat and rain mingled together as our bodies met.

He continued his relentless pace and my core tightened around him. We had never had sex like this before. It was hard, it was fast, it was intense, and it was passionate.

Just like us.

Trace’s eyes closed and when they opened they were full of an emotion I couldn’t describe. “I love this. I love being inside you. I love watching your face and seeing the pleasure I can give you.”

I wet my lips and ran my hands over his chest
, then lower, to where we connected.

My core was tightening again and my back bowed off the bed as my orgasm ripped through me. Trace shuddered and quaked inside me, growling as his own orgasm took hold.

Spent, he gently lowered his weight on top of me, placing kisses along my face, down my neck, and over my collarbone and breasts.

He slipped from me and disposed of the condom.

Then, he climbed back in bed, and pulled my naked body against his.

Night was far away, but for now, we needed to hold each other.

A chuckle escaped his lips and his breath stirred the wet hairs plastered against my neck.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“We dented the wall,” he chortled.

“What?” I sat up and turned to look at the wall the bed was against.

“Oh my God,” I stifled a laugh with a hand over my mouth. “We did.”

Sure enough, there was a long dent in the wall where the headboard had banged
relentlessly against it.

“It’s a good thing I don’t have neighbors,” Trace smirked, kissing my shoulder. “Wanna see if we can make it bigger?”

c h a p t e r

Thirty Three

“Hey mom,” I smiled as she slid into the backseat of Trace’s car.

“Hi, sweetie,” she patted my shoulder. “Trace,” she smiled in his direction.

“Nora,” Trace nodded and backed out of the Callahan’s driveway.

“There’s so much I need to tell you,” my mom said, buckling her seatbelt. “I feel like I haven’t had the chance to see you in so long
, and talk about things, what with both of us working and everything.”

“So, what do you want to talk about?” I peered over my shoulder at her as Trace drove to the restaurant to meet his family for lunch.

“For starters,” she smiled, “I got a promotion, and found an apartment I’ll be able to afford, with my new salary. It’s small…but clean. It will be nice to have something of my own.”

“That’s great
, mom!” I exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you!”

“That’s
awesome, Nora,” Trace piped in.

“But that’s not at all,” she smiled giddily.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“I went into the lawyer
’s office last week and filed for divorce. He sent the papers to Aaron, all he has to do is sign.” The relief on her face was obvious.

“Mom! That’s fantastic!” I grinned.

Finally, after more than twenty years, she would be completely free of Aaron Owens.

“I wanted to call and tell you
, but I felt it was better to tell you in person,” she smiled.

“I’m so happy for you
, mom,” I reached back for her hand and gave it a light squeeze.  

When we arrived at the restaurant, Trace’s family was already there.

“If it isn’t my favorite future grand-daughter-in-law,” Warren chuckled, standing shakily on his cane, hugging me tightly despite his frail state. “I’ve missed you. You need to come visit me.”

“I’ll try, I’ve been really busy,” I took the seat in-between my mom and Trace. “I got a job.”
I really had been meaning to visit Warren. I missed him.

“That’s right,” Warren nodded. “I remember Trace mentioning that. How’s the job working out for you?”

“I love it,” I smiled, picking up the menu.

The restaurant was attached to a hotel and it was surprisingly upscale with dark wood accents and tile floors. Part of the kitchen was open to the space so you could watch them cook.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Warren coughed.

“Gramps, are you okay?” Trace asked, his brow wrinkling in concern.

“Just a little cold, nothing to be worried about, these old lungs don’t work quite as well as they used to,” he shrugged, taking a sip of water.

Trace didn’t seem to be buying what Warren had said.

A waiter appeared and I ordered a chopped salad.

When
everyone’s order had been taken, I looked across the table at Trent. “How’ve you been?” I asked.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “I haven’t been doing much.”

“He’s been sulking,” Lily piped in.

“About what?” I asked Trent. “You certainly don’t have to tell me, but you can.”

“Just a girl,” he mumbled, reluctantly, squirming under everyone’s gaze. He scratched his chin, staring at the table.

Trace chortled. “Is she resisting your infamous charm?”

“Yes,” Trent groaned, rolling his eyes. “She completely ignores me and not even my dimples affect her! Girls can’t resist the dimples!” He pointed dramatically to his cheeks.

“Guess you’re going to have to try harder, little brother. Maybe, the whole ‘flirt’ thing doesn’t work for her,” Trace shrugged.

“Ya think?” Trent snapped.

“Why don’t you just be yourself around her?” I suggested. “A lot of girls aren’t attracted to the showy type.”

“Whatever,” Trent grumbled, as he unfolded his napkin, and spread it across his lap, “I don’t want to talk about this, anyway.”

The waiter brought our food out and we settled into easy conversation.

“Oh, I keep forgetting to mention that the lake house renovations are finished,” Lily explained to Trace. “You and Olivia should come up this summer. We’ll be leaving in two weeks, to spend the rest of the summer there, but you’re welcome to go beforehand by yourselves, or join us. You too, Nora,” she added.

This was the first time my mom and Lily had met. I was extremely pleased by how well they were getting along.

“That sounds nice,” I nodded at Trace. “I’ve never been to a lake house.”

“Great!” Lily clapped her hands together.
“And seriously, Nora, please join us.”

“I would love to,” my mom replied, “but since I
was recently promoted, I don’t think it would be best to go on a vacation so soon.”

“Oh, of course. I completely understand. Just know that the invitation is open and I mean that sincerely,”
she smiled pleasantly. Raising her water glass in the air, Lily said, “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” we all echoed.

★★★

“It’s a bit bare, isn’t it?” I assessed my mom’s new apartment.

It was smaller than Trace’s apartment and not as nice, but at least, like she had said, it was clean. The carpet was brand new and the walls were freshly painted. The appliances weren’t stainless steel, but they were new as well.

A single couch decorated the designated living area
, and when I poked my head inside the only bedroom, it contained a simple bed and mattress.

“It’s not like I have much,” my mom sighed. “All I brought with me was clothes. I’ll add some decorations later,” she pulled her hair off her shoulders and tied it in a ponytail. “But for now, it’s my own place
, and that’s what matters.”

“Let me know when you want to go shopping,” I replied, looking over the couch to make sure it was clean. “I’d love to help you.”

“I will,” she placed her hands on her hips over her stretchy yoga pants. “It’ll probably be a while though. I really don’t have the money right now. I had to pay the first three months rent up front and it has all but wiped out my bank account.”

“I’m sorry, mom,” I bit my lip. “I should have moved in with you.”

“No, no, that’s silly,” she shook her head. “You’re happy where you’re at and you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine on my own. I even made sure this place has a security system,” she pointed to the wall beside the door where a white panel was inserted.

“What are you going to do about a ride to work?” I asked. Since Resa didn’t work, she had been lending my mom her car, or driving her to work if she had errands to run.

“Don’t be mad,” her cheeks flushed, “but Nick will be taking me. He has a job for the summer near the hospital and he said it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“I’m sure he did say that,” I grumbled. Apparently, I was going to have to have a talk with Nick and let him know my mom was
off limits
.

“He’s a nice guy, Liv. Don’t crinkle your nose like that. He’s sweet and he helps me out,” she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom.

“He’s also a twenty-two year old man who wants to get in my mother’s pants,” I grumbled.

“Olivia!” My mom exclaimed, glaring at me with wide copper eyes, the same eyes she had given me.

“It’s true!” I countered.

She shook her head rapidly back and forth, staring at the ground. “I can’t help how old he is-”

“Oh my God,” I turned around so that she was to my back. I
couldn’t
look at her right now. “You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”

Her silence was answer enough.

“Mom!” I turned to face her.

Her face was beet red and she looked like she was choking on her own saliva. “Olivia, that’s none of your business.”

“Ew, no!” I squealed, shaking my head. “I can’t. I
can’t
,” I covered my eyes.

“Then you shouldn’t have said anything,” she defended.

“Oh my God. I think Avery’s rubbing off on me. This is bad. I wouldn’t have normally asked that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” I apologized.

“It
is
your business, Liv. You’re my daughter. But I shouldn’t have to tell you something until
I’m
ready,” she said softly.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Let’s move on and pretend this conversation never happened,” she pleaded.

“Sure,” I agreed, not meeting her eyes, because I was positive that I wouldn’t be able to pretend it never happened.

Since there was nothing left to bring in, I mumbled, “I’m going to get out of here. I have to stop by the grocery store.” I really did have to go to the grocery store, but at this point, I would’ve made any excuse to leave. The awkwardness from the Nick situation had yet to leave.

“Alright,” she seemed relieved at my imminent departure. I figured
, either Nick was expected to show up any minute,
or
she felt as awkward as I did. “Let’s do lunch next weekend, if you’re not working?”

“Sounds good,” I smiled, striding towards the door
, and
Nick
would
not
be a topic that I was ever bringing up again.

I started my
small cobalt blue Ford Focus and drove to the grocery store closest to Trace’s apartment. I still had trouble thinking of it as “ours”.

Trace was working late tonight and I wanted to make him dinner, because despite what he believed
, I
could
cook. My mom had taught me most of her recipes, and while I wasn’t the best cook, I wasn’t horrible. I wanted to surprise him with a meal and
finally
get those three important words off my chest. Several times in the past few days, they had come close to rolling off my tongue, but I kept my mouth shut.

I pushed the cart around the store, adding the ingredients I needed, and headed to the checkout.

I planned to make homemade Fettuccine Alfredo from one of my mom’s recipes.

I loaded the plastic bags into my car and drove home.

I noticed a car in my rearview mirror that appeared to be following me, and my heart rate spiked when it pulled into Pete’s parking lot. I reasoned that maybe, they were having car trouble, and it was by coincidence that they followed me home.

But…my gut didn’t believe that.

Not looking at the person, because I didn’t want to get involved in a conversation, I lifted the trunk and picked up the two bags, the keys to the apartment clutched in one hand.

Gravel crunched behind me and fear slid
like a sheet of ice down my back. Swallowing thickly, I started up the steps that led to the apartment.

A
hand pushed into my back and I fell on the wood steps. Splinters imbedded in my hands and knees.

“What the-”
I exclaimed.

Someone rolled me over, pinning my wrists to my sides.

I gasped when my eyes connected with dark ones, outlined by wire-framed glasses.

“Aaron,” I gasped.

“My name is not Aaron, to you. It’s dad,” he shook me. “I’m your dad.”

His hold on me was tight and I was surprised my bones didn’t snap.

“Let me go,” I begged, hysterics arising.

I kicked him hard in the stomach and he was forced to let me go
as he stumbled down a few steps.

Thankfully, the key was still clutched firmly in my hand
, and I ran for the door. I managed to get it open, but by the time I tried to close it, Aaron had recovered and was barging his way inside.

He slapped my face so hard that I fell to my knees. Tears clouded my vision as I clutched my stinging cheek. He towered above me, the look in his eyes anything but human. They were dead eyes. They were the eyes of someone who had lost everything and no longer cared.

“I came for your mom,” he growled, “she’s an idiot to think I’m going to give her a divorce. I’m prepared to drag her ass back home. I was driving around looking for her, when I saw you walking out of the grocery store,” he kicked my ribs.

I grunted from the impact and clutched feebly at my side.

Oh, God. It
hurt
.

“Hurting
you
,” he sneered the word like it was dirty, “will hurt your mom more than anything else.
This
,” he kicked my face and I tasted blood, “will break her. She needs to be broken. She needs to know she can’t run.” He punctuated each sentence with a kick to a different part of my body. My side. My chest. My arms. He didn’t care where he hit me; he just wanted to hurt me. “I told her there would be consequences if she ever left me. But she didn’t
listen!
”

His anger was rising from deadly calm to unchained fury.