Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (69 page)

“Museums are fun!” He defended. “But no, we’re not just visiting museums. After this, I don’t know which way the wind might blow us.”

“Except north,” I stated. “You keep saying we’re heading north.”

He looked like deer caught in headlights for a moment, but he shook his head and the look was gone. “Yeah, uh, I want us to go to the lake house. Remember?” He stood, pulling on his shirts.

“Mhmm,” I muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” he replied a bit too quickly, “nothing at all.”

“Trace,” I said his name warningly. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, grabbing our bags.

He grabbed the room key as well as his car keys, picked up our bags, and breezed out of the room. I knew avoidance when I saw it, and that’s exactly what he was doing. What the hell was he up to? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

I scanned the room several times and even looked under the bed to make sure we weren’t leaving anything behind. When I was sure we had all our belongings I headed out to the car. Trace already had the car started and his sunglasses on. He was fiddling with his phone as I slid inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I made a playlist for our road trip,” he mumbled, pushing a button on his phone. The sounds of Lifehouse’s Gotta Be Tonight blared from the speakers. For an old car it had one heck of a sound system. For all I knew Trace had upgraded it. I knew absolutely nothing about cars.

Trace seemed to know where he was going and since I didn’t want to be the annoying, nagging girlfriend—fiancé—I kept my mouth shut.

Maybe in a few days I would finally realize that we were engaged. It was still so new that I kept forgetting.

“Alright,” Trace parked the car, “we should be able to walk to the Liberty Bell from here as well as the museums.”

“Walking’s fine with me. Especially since I’m going to be cooped up in the car with you for a couple of weeks,” I laughed.

He frowned, removing his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know why you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’m awesome to be around. You should be happy that you’re being rewarded with my presence twenty-four seven. Not many get that pleasure.”

“You’re too much to handle sometimes,” I shook my head.

“And yet,” he smirked, tapping my nose with his finger like I was a small child, “you’re still here.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” I taunted, getting out of the car before he could say anything else.

A light breeze swirled around me, ruffling my hair. It was only ten in the morning but I knew it was going to be scorcher. I’d need to find some sunscreen so I didn’t end up looking like a lobster.

“Which way should we head first?” Trace asked from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder at him, squinting from the sun. “Does it matter?” I asked, shading my eyes.

“I guess not,” he said, shrugging out of his plaid shirt and tossing it in the car, leaving him in only a wife-beater. “Geez it’s hot out,” he grumbled. “You’d think it was Florida or something.”

“It’s not
that
hot,” I laughed.

“Maybe not,” he locked the car, “but it’s still pretty hot.”

“It is,” I admitted. Sweat was already dampening my skin and we’d only been outside for a few minutes. Hopefully it would get cooler as we headed north. Scorching hot temperatures weren’t my thing.

“I think Independence Hall is this way,” he pointed. “I already got tickets before we left,” he pulled two pieces of paper from his back pocket.

I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m beginning to think you’ve had this whole trip planned before you even asked me.”

I was only joking, but his posture stiffened and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “That’s just silly,” he chuckled, trying to play it off.

“Huh,” I muttered to myself. What was going on with him?

“Come on, this way,” he grabbed my hand, pulling me after him.

There was a line to get into the tour but Trace bypassed it, flashing something I couldn’t see. I gave him a peculiar look and he explained, “Sometimes having money comes in handy.”

I hated to admit it, but the tour was actually pretty interesting. It made you feel so small to be surrounded by so much history. It blew my mind to think about all the important decisions that had been made in that building … in this city. It was crazy. Those people were long gone but I was sure if they knew the state we were in now, they’d think we were all a bunch of screw-ups.

As we left the old brick building Trace grabbed my arm, halting my progress.

“What?”

“I want a picture,” he explained, holding out his phone and taking a few pictures of us. He’d done the same yesterday at the Heinz museum. I think he was determined to document every moment of this trip.

We headed to the Liberty Bell next.

Tickets weren’t necessary so we strolled straight on through the gates.

I gazed at the bell for a few minutes in awe and read the plaque located in front of it that explained its history.

“‘Proclaim liberty throughout all the Land unto all the inhabitants thereof,’” I read off of the plaque in a whisper. I looked up at Trace and said, “Those words must have meant so much to them at that time.”

He didn’t hear a word I said though, he was still staring at the bell. He tilted his head from side to side. “You know, I thought it would be bigger.”

I laughed. “It looks plenty big to me.”

“That’s because,” he hugged me to his front, “you’re small … like a little doll.”

I snorted. “Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

“What? It’s true,” his lips brushed against the top of my head, “you’re short and tiny. You do have a nice chest and ass though. I especially love your ass,” he reached down and grabbed it.

“Trace!” I squealed, darting away from him. “There are
people
here,” I looked around at the different families. One husband and wife was staring at us with a look of contempt. I half expected them to pull out a Bible and throw it at us.

“What? It’s true!” He raised his hands in surrender grinning like an idiot.

“You are impossible,” I growled over my shoulder, striding towards the exit. “You need a muzzle and a leash.”

“I didn’t know you were so kinky,” he chuckled behind me. When I turned around to glare at him his laugh turned into a fake cough. “You know,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I wasn’t quite done back there.”

“Then go back,” I shooed him away with my hand. “I’ll be here.”

He narrowed his eyes and before I knew what was happening he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder. “Trace!” I shrieked as my stomach dropped out from under me. “Put me down!” I beat at his back but he was completely unfazed. People were staring and heat infused my cheeks … or maybe my face only felt so hot since all the blood was currently rushing to my head.

He didn’t put me down until he was standing in front of the Liberty Bell again, and even then he held on tightly to me. Before I could run away, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of us.

He chuckled at the screen. “I’m sending this one to my mom.” He was already typing madly on his phone.

“Let me see,” I stood on my tiptoes to peer at his phone. When I saw the picture I gasped. “Don’t you dare send that to your mom!”

“Too late,” he grinned boyishly, shoving the phone in his pocket.

“I’m glaring at you in the picture like I want to kick you … or worse.”

“Exactly, she’ll think it’s hilarious. Give her about five minutes and I’m sure she’ll call me and ask what I did to you,” he laughed.

“Yeah, right—” I was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing.

He pulled it out and smirked at the caller ID. “Told you,” he showed me the name lighting up the screen. “Hey mom,” he answered. “Why do you assume I did something? Oh, really? I only picked her up and carried her back to the bell so I could get a picture.” He was quiet for a moment and then said, “I am being a very good boy, mom,” he grinned at me. “Love you, too. Bye.” He hung up his phone and smiled. “That went better than I thought it would.”

“And how did you think it would go?” I asked, walking out of the gate once more. I found a bench and sat down.

“I figured she’d chew me out for at least thirty minutes. But I guess by now she knows I am who I am and there’s no changing me,” he took the spot on the bench beside me.

“If I’ve figured that out in the three years since I’ve met you, then I think your mom is bound to have figured it out in twenty-five,” I snickered, tapping my shoes against the ground in a random beat.

“
Almost
twenty-five,” he amended. “Don’t go making me older than I am, woman.”

“Whatever,” I laughed, “and it’s not like twenty-five is old.”

“Easy for you to say,” his nose wrinkled as he tried to pretend to be mad.

I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you’ll be forty and still acting like you’re fifteen.”

“True,” he laughed. “I don’t see the point in acting my age. I want to have fun,” he shrugged, “so I do.”

No longer irritated with him I took his hand in mine. I frowned down at his reddened knuckles. “Trace,” I breathed, “you hurt your hand.” I looked up at him with worry in my eyes as he snatched his hand from my grasp.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, looking at a spot over my head.

“It looks like it hurts,” I grabbed his hand again, inspecting it. “Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?”

He forced a smile. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t realize I punched the guy
that
hard,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You don’t need to act so macho all the time,” I scolded him, running my finger lightly over his injured knuckles. “I’m not going to love you any less.”

“Honestly,” he smiled, “I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out. I was too concerned about you.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly as he played with a piece of my hair. That was the kind of person Trace was, though. He was always concerned about everyone else, not about himself.

I opened my eyes and found him staring curiously at me. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he whispered, shaking his head. Standing, he reached for my hands and hauled me up. “Let’s get out of here.”

I woke with a start as the car jerked to a stop. I turned groggy eyes Trace’s way. “What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“Just something I want us to do,” he grinned mischievously, unbuckling his seatbelt.

I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I glanced at the clock as I massaged the back of my neck. I’d been asleep about an hour. It was one in the afternoon and the sun shined through the windows.

I looked around at the bridge we were parked on and at the group of people up ahead in—was that a harness?

“What. The. Hell?” I gasped, scrambling out of the car just as one of the guys from the group jumped off the freakin’ bridge. His cries of joy echoed around us. I wanted to scream in terror. I peered over the bridge railing as the guy was released from the cord and dropped into the water. “I-I-I-no way,” I shook my head, putting the puzzle pieces together. Trace would’ve only stopped if he wanted us to do this. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but if Trace thought I was going to jump off a bridge, he had another thing coming for him.

“Adventures, remember?” Trace grinned crookedly, pinching my hip.

“Adventures, yes. Falling to my death? No.”

“It’ll be fun,” he coaxed, looking at me with wide green eyes. “We’ll do it together. You fall, I fall. Always.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me,” I pushed his shoulder. “It’s not going to work.”

“Oh, it’ll work,” he skated a finger over my collarbone. “Just give it a second. My powers of persuasion are too much for you to resist.”

I looked over my shoulder at the group of people on the bridge. Most of them were men but there were a few women too.

I’d never thought about bungee jumping before … but it could be fun … maybe … if I didn’t throw up from fear.

“Fine,” I met his gaze once more, “but we’re doing it together. There’s no way I’m jumping by myself.”

He grabbed my cheeks and lowered his head, kissing me passionately. He pulled away, breathing heavily and rested his forehead against mine. “I love my little spitfire.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I groaned, “let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”

“You got it,” he grinned, kissing me quickly, and striding towards the group. “Hi, I’m Trace,” he held his hand out to shake the man’s hand that seemed to be in charge. “This is my fiancé, Olivia.” My heart did a little happy dance at that. “Are you Marcus?”

“That’s me,” the man smiled. He was probably in his thirties, tall and lanky, with black hair and kind brown eyes. “You ready to jump?” He addressed me, not Trace.

I nodded, hoping I didn’t look like a big eyed frightened rabbit.

The guy clapped me on the shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared, that makes the fall even better.”

He meant his words to be comforting, but they weren’t.

“Mhmm,” I mumbled, letting him guide me over the equipment scattered around. A few cars passed us, completely oblivious to the jumpers. I figured this was a regular occurrence around here. Wherever ‘here’ was. Marcus helped me into the gear, explaining what each piece was for to calm my nerves, while another guy helped Trace. “How did you know about this?” I asked him.