Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia #3) (21 page)

Read Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia #3) Online

Authors: Micalea Smeltzer

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia #3)
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“This place is so amazing,” I gasped, turning around and aro
und to take in everything.

“I like it here,” Trent shrugged. “The city vibe has always suited me, but I’d have a hard time leaving home. It’s nice to have this place to get away
to, though.”

“How many other places do you have like this?” I questioned as we waited for an elevator.

“A few,” he answered vaguely.

“Something tells me it’s more than a few,”
I laughed, stepping into the elevator.

He pulled out the key again, inserting it in the slot and twisting. “So maybe it is more than a few,” he shrugged casually. “I can’t tell you what they are, because I have to have something to keep you interested.”

“You know I don’t care about your money, Trent,” I said seriously, “or how many cars and houses you own. None of that matters to me.”

“I know,” he cupped my cheek, lowering his mouth to mine. “It’s one of the reasons why I—”

The elevator doors opened into the penthouse and I grabbed his hand, pulling him after me. “About that shower?” I smiled seductively, and what he had been about to say was forgotten.




There was a library in the penthouse. Every wall was covered with shelves filled with books of every genre.
On one wall there was a window with a built-in bench seat covered in a fluffy white cushion and pillows. I had grabbed a blanket from the family room and I draped it over my legs as I looked out the window, brushing the wet strands of my hair.

Trent was making us dinner. I’d offered to help, but he’d declined, telling me to relax.

Since I hadn’t gotten much of a tour yesterday, I had taken it upon myself to look around the penthouse. When I’d come across this room, I’d been delighted. I’d always found comfort in a library. It made me sad to know I wasn’t going to be working at the library anymore. I probably wouldn’t be welcome there to study either. It looked like I’d be stuck studying at the University’s library. I’d have to come up with something creative to tell Tatum as to why I was fired. She was my friend, but I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to tell her the truth.

Luckily, I’d gotten a few days of work in at Trace’s car shop before Trent and I left. It certainly wasn’t the library, but it was nice. He was easy to work for and he paid well, so I had nothing to complain about. The guys that worked for him in the shop could get a little rowdy, but he was quick to shut them down and order them back to work. For being so young, Trace was handling being a business owner very well.

I tapped my fingers on top of my knees and laid the hairbrush aside, letting the long damp strands hang down my back.

I was overcome by a sudden sadness, knowing that in a matter of days we’d have to return home and this bubble surroun
ding me would burst. Being here alone with Trent made it all too easy for me to hope for a future with him—a future that I knew could never be. I vowed that when we got back home I’d end things. I’d walk away before it got messy. When he dropped me off, I’d lie and tell him that this week with him had shown me that my interest wasn’t there. I’d lie, because it was easier. They always say the truth can set you free. In my case, the truth was my prison.

O
ne day, when I was older and wiser, I would find him and explain to him why we would’ve never worked out.

It wasn’t that day yet though, and for now, I’d enjoy myself.

A patter on the open library door had me looking up. Trent stood in the doorway, his dark hair had dried from our shower and he was shirtless, just those same low hanging sweatpants on his hips.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” He grinned crookedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door.

“I like this room,” I forced a smile, wrapping my arms around my knees. “It’s…peaceful. I find it so easy to seek comfort in books,” I murmured, looking around at the packed shelves, “the books…they can’t hurt me, not the way people can.”

Trent frowned at my words. “Rowan,” he whispered my name as he took a step into the room, “I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me.” He crouched in front of me, looking into my eyes. “
I understand what it’s like not to want to talk about certain things, so I’ve respected your space, but I want you to know that I’m here anytime you need to talk to someone.”

“I know.”

There was so much that I did want to tell Trent, but I knew once I opened up I’d have to tell him everything, and I couldn’t tell him all my dirty secrets yet.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, and I was thankful for the change of subject. I knew Trent was curious about the demons that haunted me, but he respected me enough not to force my secrets o
ut of me. That right there showed me how much he cared for me—more than I wanted to believe he did.

“I’m not very hungry,” I muttered, laying my head on my knees.

“You need to eat,” he looked at me with worried eyes. “Are you getting sick?”

No, not unless you could grow sick from lies. “I feel fine,” I assured him. “Just tired.”

He frowned. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He stood, holding out a hand for me. “Eat some dinner and go to bed. Please?”

I nodded, placing my hand in his outstretched palm. There was no reason to argue with him. He grabbed the blanket, draping it over his arm.

Out in the open living and kitchen area I saw that he had dimmed the lights and set the table. He’d even lit candles. It was beautiful.

He didn’t take me to the table though. He guided me to the couch and told me to sit. He draped the blanket over my lower half and pushed a button on a remote, which ignited a roaring fire. I hadn’t noticed the fireplace yesterday. It made the room seem cozy.

He pushed another button, which closed the large blackout curtains.

He blew out the candles and brought our plates of food and glasses of wine to the couch.

He raised his glass for a toast, so I mimicked.

“To us,” he smiled.

“To us,” I echoed.

To our demise
, I thought.




“Trent, where are you taking me?” I groaned as he held onto my hand, running down the street.
He grabbed a door, pulling me into a fancy upscale store.

“Shopping,” he grinned like a
small boy, a little bit of his excitement rubbing off on me.

My mouth fell open as I got a look at the clothes.

“No,” I wrenched my hand from Trenton’s. “This place is too expensive, I don’t even want to
look
at anything for fun.”

“Rowan,” Trent said my name in a calming tone,
“I want to buy you a dress.”

“A dress? Why do you want to buy me a dress?” I asked, my eyes shifting around me, taking in all the people dressed in fancy clothes. I didn’t belong here in my leggings and gray sweater. I looked like a hobo, and Trent wanted to buy me a dress? Was he crazy?

“Remember the New Year’s Eve party I mentioned?” When I nodded, he continued, “Well, it’s formal, so you need a dress.”

“I have a dress,” I mumbled, even though I
so
didn’t have a formal gown. I hadn’t even gone to prom.

“Rowan,” he warned, “I’m buying you a dress, a new dress, and you’re not going to say anything about it.”

“You’re so bossy,” I grumbled.

“It’s the only way I can get anything done with you,” he chuckled. “Now, please don’t make this difficult.”

I frowned. I didn’t want Trent spending his money on me, but I knew that determined glint in his eye all too well, and there was no way I was getting out of this.

“Fine,” I reluctantly agreed.

He grinned, pleased to have gotten his way. He didn’t take my hand, probably scared I’d slap it away, and nodded for me to follow him.

It was obvious Trent had been here many times before. He led me to the ladies section, or did they call it something else in fancy stores like this?

A woman greeted him and they shook hands. “Row, this is Sherri. Sherri, this is my girlfriend, Rowan, and she needs a dress for a party.”

Sherri shook my hand
, her eyes starting at my feet and roaming up my body as she sized me up. “Hmm,” she grunted. I took it she didn’t think I was good enough for Trenton. That made two of us.

“What kind of party?” She asked Trent. Her voice was oddly nasal sounding, like she had a cold.

“A New Year’s Eve party. My family has one every year and it’s very formal.”

Sherri tapped her chin in thought.

She was a petite woman with fiery red hair that was in no way natural and aqua colored glasses. Her lips were plump and shimmered with a cherry red gloss. Her clothes were nice and probably cost more than what I paid for rent in six months, and she
worked
here.

“I think I have some things that might work.”

It didn’t escape my notice that she addressed Trent, not me, like I was nothing.

She turned briskly on her heel, flicking her hand over her shoulder for us to follow.

“I don’t think she likes me,” I muttered under my breath to Trent.

“I’m not sure she likes anyone,” he replied with a shrug.

“She likes
you!
” I exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

“I can’t help it that I’m so charming,” he winked, his eyes scanning the racks of clothing warily. “I know this was my idea, but I hope this doesn’t take long. Shopping is not my thing.”

“It’s not my thing either,” I assured him.

“Wait here,” Sherri pointed to a fancy couch that was covered in amethyst colored velvet.

Trent and I took a seat while she went to pull some dresses.

I looked up, noticing an intricate crystal chandelier hanging above us. I wasn’t sure what store he’d dragged me into, and looking around at all the fancy finishing’s and clothing, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know. My stomach was already churning at the thought of what this dress would cost, and I’d
have
to let him buy it. I certainly wasn’t spending the money in my savings account on a dress—that money was going to be used to get me and the kids away from my mom and step-dad.

Sherri returned with a rack of dresses. They were all in different styles and lengths, but most were shiny.

She crooked a finger at me and I stood to inspect the dresses she had pulled.

“Do you see any you like?” She asked, her voice full of false sweetness. Someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

I reached for a long black evening dress that was strapless. It had jeweled detailing on the top and the bottom was plain. “I like this one,” I said.

“Alright then, try it on,” she led me down a hall and opened a door into a dressing room.

She closed the door so she was left in the small room with me. “Uh…” I eyed her warily. “I don’t need any help. I’m fine on my own.”

“Okay,” she nodded, leaving me to myself.

I stripped out of my clothes and shimmied into the black dress. Once it was on I decided I didn’t like it as much as I had on the hanger, but I knew Trent would want to see. So, I forced myself to leave behind the comfort of the dressing room and venture out to the waiting area.

Trent sat up straighter when he saw me.

“I don’t like it,” I declared quickly, “but I knew you’d want to see.” I turned, brushing my hair over my shoulder so he could see the dress at all angles.

“It’s pretty, but not you,” he commented.

“Try this one,” Sherri pulled a dress off the rack and handed it to me. She didn’t even look at it, maybe she knew what she’d pulled that well, or maybe she didn’t care to help me. Regardless, I really didn’t like the woman.

I held the new dress in one hand, and lifted the hem of the one I was wearing in the other.

I didn’t like this dress either. It was skin tight and silver. It wasn’t me at all. When I showed Trent he was quick to shake his head in disapproval.

I skimmed through the dresses Sherri had chosen, lingering on
a short champagne colored dress. It was covered in sequins, which wouldn’t normally be something I’d like, but it worked. I also liked that the neck came up higher and it had three-quarter sleeves, so despite the short length I wouldn’t feel like I was naked.

I took the dress back with me and as soon as I looked at my reflection I knew I had found the one. It was tight, but not glued to me like the other dress had been, and I felt comfortable in it, not like a little girl playing dress up.

When Trent saw, he sat back, a grin lighting his face. “That’s the one.”

“I love it,” I said, unable to keep the slightly giddy tone from my voice.

Trent stood, his hands falling to my waist. “It’s perfect.”

I smiled, pleased that he liked it as much as I did.

“We’ll take it,” he told Sherri, not even bothering to look in her direction. “While you’re at it, get her some shoes to match.”

Sherri asked me what size I wore and I told her. “I’ll change and then we can get out of here,” I said to Trent. “I’m ready for lunch.”

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