Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (17 page)

“I like stories,” he shrugged his small shoulders. “You can tell me. I’m a good listener, promise.”

“I’m sure you are,” I smiled at him. “But it’s not something I like to talk about.”

“Oh,” he frowned. “That’s okay.”

The music cut off and we stopped dancing.

“
Dad
,” Jamie groaned. “We were dancing.”

“Sorry, bud,” Marcus smiled at his son, “but it’s way past your bedtime. We need to get home.”

“Fun sucker,” Jamie grumbled, heading towards his dad with a lowered head.

“What did you say?” Marcus’ voice was stern but he was fighting a smile.

“Nothing, dad,” Jamie mumbled as he climbed into the SUV.

I turned to find Trace still holding Sarah, carefully rocking her in his arms. She was holding on tightly to his neck and her eyes were closed as she breathed deeply. I think my heart stopped beating for a moment before kicking into overdrive.

He carried her to the car and strapped her in her booster seat.

“We’ll follow you,” Trace said to Marcus.

Marcus didn’t live that far from the lake, we had only driven about five minutes when we pulled into the driveway of a modest sized home.

Sarah had woken up on the ride home and when she got out of the car, she came running to Trace. He immediately bent down so that he was on her eyelevel.

“What is it princess?” He asked.

“Will you read me a story? Mommy normally reads to me, but I want you to,” she twisted her shirt between her small fingers, looking bashfully at the ground as she waited for his reply.

“Sure,” Trace smiled, “as long as that’s okay with your mommy and daddy.”

“Thank you!” She hugged him tightly.

Marcus held the front door open and Sarah went running inside.

Trace grabbed our bags, refusing to let me carry mine.

“The guestroom’s this way,” Rebecca smiled pleasantly, leading us past a homey family room and nice kitchen. Kids toys were scattered about. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she apologized. “I can never get them to put their toys away, and the minute I clean them up they drag another fifty out.” She stopped in front of a door at the back of the house and opened it. “It’s not much,” she smiled. “But it’s clean and there’s an attached bathroom.”

“Thank you so much for opening your home to us. Most people wouldn’t do that,” I hugged her.

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Looking at Trace, she added, “You don’t need to read Sarah a story. I know she can be pushy.”

“I want to,” Trace said quickly.

“Are you sure?” Rebecca asked hesitantly.

“Positive,” Trace nodded.

“Well…okay then,” she smiled, heading back towards the kitchen. “I’ll get her ready for bed. There’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the shower. Feel free to use it.”

I stepped into the bedroom and Trace closed the door. The carpet was plush under my feet and the room smelled of fresh linen, courtesy of one of those plug-in outlet things.

I couldn’t believe we’d lucked out in meeting Marcus…even if I did end up jumping off a bridge in the process.

“You can shower first,” I told him, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress was nice and soft, nothing like the rock we’d slept on last night.

“Or,” he bent down and pressed his forehead against mine, “we could shower together.”

“Nice try, but we’re in someone else’s house.”

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he coaxed.

“Mhmm, I’ll believe that when…well, never,” I smiled.

“Thanks for believing in me,” he released my cheeks and backed towards the bathroom. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”

I tossed one of the pillows from the bed at him.

“Oooh, you want a pillow fight?” He waggled his brows.

“No, I’d like for you to shower so that I can. I smell gross,” I frowned.

He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Is it
you
that I’ve been smelling?”

“Stop it,” I rolled my eyes, falling back on the bed.

He chuckled as he gathered something to change into. “It’s a legitimate question,” he started for the bathroom.

“Don’t act like you don’t smell either,” I grumbled.

“That’s my natural manly musk. Don’t diss it,” he chortled, closing the door. A moment later the shower started up.

I didn’t have anything to do so I figured I should be a nice daughter and call my mom so I could give her an update on our progress. Before we left, she’d told me to call her every day. So far, I was sucking at that.

“Liv?” She answered on the second ring.

“Hey mom,” I replied, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“You didn’t call me yesterday. I was worried, but I thought maybe I shouldn’t call you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, mom. I suck. I was so tired that I forgot,” I stifled a yawn.

“You sound like you’re tired now,” she laughed.

“I am.”

“What have you been up to?” She asked.

“Trace made me jump off a bridge,” I said nonchalantly.

“He what?!” She screamed so I had to hold the phone away from ear.

“We went bungee jumping. It was actually pretty fun,” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me.

“Geez, way to give your mom a heart attack, Liv.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think about the way that would sound,” I apologized. I didn’t need to scare my poor mother into going into labor early.

“So, besides bungee jumping, what else did you do?” Her tone was clipped and I knew she was still fretting over the bungee jumping. I shouldn’t have told her. Lesson learned.

“We went to the Heinz museum yesterday, and this morning we saw the Liberty Bell and toured Independence Hall.”

“Where are you now?”

“New York,” I adjusted one of the pillows behind my back.

“At least you’re making progress,” she commented. “I better get to bed.”

“Of course,” I looked at the time, feeling bad that I’d called her after ten. “Love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Liv.”

I had just put my phone away when the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out. Trace stood in a pair of low hanging pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

“Gotta keep it decent for the kiddos,” he winked, heading for the door. He turned back to me and swiped his thumb across my lip. “You had a little drool there. I didn’t know my plaid pajama pants would turn you on so much or I would’ve whipped these bad boys out a long time ago.”

I blushed at his words.
Curse you, traitorous cheeks!

“Now that you’re sufficiently flustered, I have a story to read,” he opened the door.

“I hate you,” I spat playfully before the door closed.

“Sure you do,” he called.

I grabbed a clean pair of pajamas and stepped into the bathroom. It was nothing like the bathroom we’d had to use at the motel yesterday. It was fairly large to be attached to a guestroom and kept tidy and clean. I turned the water on and stripped out of my clothes, more than happy to
finally
wash the lake scum off of me. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair and let it fall down my back. I stuck my hand under the spray to test the temperature and when I found that it was perfect, I stepped inside.

An embarrassing gasp of pleasure escaped my lips. I had taken for granted just how great a nice shower was.

I lathered my hair with the shampoo and scrubbed my body with the blueberry scented body wash.
Goodbye, lake scum!

I rinsed the shampoo from my hair and then slathered it with conditioner. If I didn’t use the stuff, my hair knotted into a curly ball that was impossible to tame.

When I got out of the shower and into clean pajamas I felt like a whole new person.

I wiped the condensation from the mirror and gasped at the nasty bruise around my eye. It hadn’t been pretty this morning, but it was even worse now. I hadn’t brought my makeup into the bathroom because I’d forgotten about the bruise. But I knew I had to hide it. Not just for Trace’s sake, but because if Rebecca and Marcus saw it I knew they’d assume that Trace had hit me. Which was
so
not the case.

I locked the bathroom door, just in case Trace came back, and went to work hiding the bruise. The skin around my eye was extremely tender and I found myself wincing when I applied too much pressure. Only I could fall on the floor and get a black eye from it. That took major skill.

I eyed my reflection carefully, inspecting my face to make sure none of the bruise showed. When I saw that it was completely covered up, I put the foundation bottle back in my make-up bag and zipped it up. I knew it was only a matter of time until Trace learned about the bruise, but I figured the longer I could keep it hidden, the better.

I ventured out of the bedroom, hoping to get a glass of water before I went to bed.

I stopped in the hallway outside a door when I heard Trace singing. I pushed the door open slightly with the tips of my fingers.

I bit my lip to stifle my soft sigh.

Sarah was curled on top of Trace’s chest as he ran his fingers through her soft dark hair. I didn’t know what song he was singing, it wasn’t a lullaby, but it was a slow sweet song. A book lay forgotten to the side.

He cracked his eyes open and spotted me in the doorway. He brought a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. I stood there for a moment longer, watching him sing to the sleeping girl.

I didn’t want to rifle through Marcus and Rebecca’s things so I was lucky enough to find them in the family room watching TV.

“Hey,” I said quietly and Marcus turned at the sound of my voice. “Do you mind if I grab a bottle of water or something.”

“Help yourself,” Rebecca smiled pleasantly, “you’re our guest.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, backing into the kitchen. I couldn’t believe that Marcus and Rebecca were being so kind to us. I mean, they didn’t
know
us. I guess they thought we seemed trustworthy. I know Trace had that affect on me. It was the only reason I ended up blabbing to him about my Live List. He was one of those people that upon meeting them, you knew you could trust them with anything and they’d never judge you.

I grabbed two water bottles and padded back to the guestroom. After today’s adventures, I was exhausted and the bed was calling my name.

Trace had stopped singing and I stuck my head inside Sarah’s room to find him asleep. Her small body was curled against his. I hurried to bedroom and came back with my phone, snapping a picture. Seeing Trace interact with Sarah…it was too adorable for words.

I climbed into the bed and fell asleep with a smile on my face. For the first time in a few weeks, I was genuinely happy.

“You made all of this?” I gasped as I stepped into the kitchen and saw the breakfast Rebecca had prepared.

“I don’t normally do all this,” she pointed to all the food prepared. “But I figured you could both benefit from a good home-cooked meal since you’ve been traveling,” she explained.

“Rebecca, you didn’t need to do all of this,” I shook my head. I’m pretty sure she’d made a bit of every breakfast food known to man. “Trace and I were just going to hit the road and get something to eat while we drove. We didn’t want you to go to all this trouble.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all. I love to cook, but my kids only ever want to eat Pop-Tarts so I don’t get the chance very often,” she said as she flitted around the kitchen, putting food on plates. “Grab one, help yourself,” she smiled.

“Thank you for doing this,” I smiled kindly as I took a plate and glass of orange juice she’d already poured.

“No need to thank me.”

I pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and sat down.

Trace came into the room with Sarah clinging to his back like a monkey, her giggle filling the air.

He’d never come to bed last night and when I woke up, I found him in the same spot he’d been when I went to bed. Sarah didn’t appear to have moved either. It was one of the cutest things I’d ever seen.

“What do you want to eat?” Trace asked her.

She tightened her arms around his neck. “I want that plate,” she pointed to one that had scrambled eggs with cheese on it.

“You got it, princess,” he grabbed that plate and one for himself, carrying them over to the table. He went back for orange juice and finally sat down. Sarah had released his neck, but instead of sitting in her own seat, she sat on his lap.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of the two of them.

A sleepy-eyed Jamie strolled into the kitchen. He frowned at the food. “Mom, I don’t want—”

“Here’s a Pop-Tart,” she handed him a pack before he could finish speaking.

He took it from her and scurried over to sit beside me.

“Manners, James,” Rebecca scolded. “What do you say when someone gives you something?”

“Thanks, mom,” he mumbled, ripping open the packet.

“Mmm, something smells good,” Marcus rubbed his stomach as he stepped into the kitchen. He kissed Rebecca on top of the head and her eyes closed as a small smile graced her face. “Thanks, Becks,” he took a plate from her.

They joined us at the table and Rebecca shook her head when she spotted Sarah in Trace’s lap.

“You’d never believe that she’s normally wary of strangers,” Rebecca told me. To Trace, she said, “You’re a natural.”