Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (43 page)

“Of course,” Dex bowed out of the way.

Gramps took my hands, easily picking up on the beat of the song. “I hadn’t forgotten about you,” I told him.

“I know you’d never forget about me, sweetie,” he smiled. “Regardless, I didn’t want to miss my chance to dance with you.”

My lip began to tremble with the threat of tears and I bit down on it, drawing blood. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I wanted to be happy and smiling, but it was hard when I looked at Gramps and knew his days were limited.

Forgetting that we were supposed to be dancing, I hugged him, letting him sway us to the music.

“You have the letters, right?” He whispered in my ear.

I nodded my head against his chest. “I hid them so Trace won’t find them.” I had stuffed the sealed envelopes in the bottom of the drawer of the table beside our bed. I knew he’d never look there.

“Good girl,” he hummed. “I want you to know,” his voice grew thick, “that no matter where I am, I’ll always be thinking of you and Trace. You can be sure of that. My body might be leaving this world, but never my spirit. I’ll always be close to you, Olivia.”

“Gramps,” I sniffled.

“No tears,” he rubbed my dampened cheeks. “Only smiles.”

“I don’t feel like smiling,” I mumbled.

“Silly girl, a smile and laughter can cure anything. It doesn’t benefit anyone to dwell on the sad or bad things,” he reasoned.

“But it’s hard not to,” I sighed, my grip on his shoulders tightening. Maybe if I held on tight enough he couldn’t be taken away from us.

“I know,” he nodded sadly. “Stay strong, my brave girl,” he kissed my forehead.

With that, he bled into the crowd. I wasn’t left alone for very long as Trace appeared in front of me.

Trace took my hand and pulled me off to the side.

“Are you okay?” He asked, noting my bloody lip.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m sad, but I’m fine.”

He took my face between his hands. “I don’t want you to be sad today.”

“I’m trying not to be,” I took a deep breath. “But it’s hard.”

He pressed his forehead against mine and his eyes fluttered closed. “I understand.”

He held me for a moment and his presence alone calmed me.

Around us, everyone chatted and danced, having a good time. Some of the kids ran around with sparklers, adding light to the night around us.

It was late and I was tired, but I never wanted to leave. Right now, my whole family was together for the last time.

“Olivia,” he said my name warningly.

“Sorry,” I looked up into his green eyes.

His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips and his eyes darkened like clouds when a storm was rolling in. “Tonight is about you, me, and our family. We can’t worry about what tomorrow might be bring, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed.

We were heading to a table when his mom stopped us. “It’s time to release the paper lanterns,” she clapped her hands together, smiling giddily.

“What?” My brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s the final event of the night,” she explained. “Everyone will release a lantern and then the party’s over.”

“Oh,” I gasped, not realizing how late it was.

Everyone grabbed a lantern and we began lighting the candles inside them.

One by one they lifted into the sky.

“Make a wish,” Trace whispered, watching me closely.

I closed my eyes, wishing for the impossible…that I would be strong enough for the both of us.

Once my wish was made, I let it go, watching as it lifted into the air and was carried away.

We hugged everyone goodbye, spending extra time with Gramps. I think I told him I loved him at least twenty times. He probably wanted to strangle me, but I felt it was important that he know how much he meant to me.

Trace and I didn’t bother changing out of our formal clothes. In fact he’d mentioned something about
him
being the one to get me out of my dress.

He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and opened the passenger car door for me. His mom had wanted to get us a limo, but I said that was silly and refused.

Trace slid into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“So…” He said slowly.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “Do you—uh—want to go to a hotel?”

“Trace Wentworth, are you blushing?” I giggled, poking his stubbled cheek where I swore I saw the skin stained pink.

“No,” he bashfully turned away.

“Why are you blushing?” I asked curiously. “You do realize you did me against the wall the other day, right?”

“I don’t know,” he squirmed in his seat. “It feels…different.”

I decided to put the poor guy out of his misery. “I don’t want to go to a hotel. I want to go home.”

He smiled at that. “Home sounds perfect to me.”

By the time we made it to the apartment, my stomach was turning in knots. It was silly, Trace was my husband and we’d been intimate many times, but something told me that tonight would take our relationship to a whole new level.

He opened the apartment door and before I could step inside he was lifting me up and carrying me. “The real threshold,” he winked.

He kicked the door closed behind us and carried me straight to the bed.

He lowered me down and pressed his lips softly to mine. “I’ve been turned on since I saw you in this dress,” he tugged on the side. “Who knew a fucking dress could get me so excited?”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” my fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt and my hands splayed across his heated skin.

I sat up and he took his time undoing the buttons on the back of the dress, pressing kisses against my skin. I pulled my hair out of the way, shivering at his touch. I let the dress drop to my waist and my heart beat rapidly in my chest in anticipation.

He pulled the sheets back and made sure my head was cradled on the pillow.

He tore his shirt all the way off and tossed it behind him, along with his pants. He slipped the dress off of me and it joined the rest of the garments on the floor.

I closed my eyes, my breath faltering as his lips skimmed over my chest, down my stomach, and lower.

My fingers grasped his hair as the muscles in my body tightened.

He kissed his way back up my body. His lips connected with mine, kissing me thoroughly. It was like he was devouring me, body and soul.

“I love you,” he breathed against the skin of my neck as he sank inside me.

I couldn’t reply. The only sound that escaped me was a soft moan.

I clung to his shoulders, scared that I might float away and needed him to keep me anchored here. I couldn’t seem to figure out where I ended and he began. For now, at least, we were one person, connected by our love for each other.

“Look at me,” he breathed when my eyes closed and I was reminded of our first time together. We’d come a long way in a few years.

My eyes opened and the look in his eyes, of such pure love, was my undoing.
Everyone
should be looked at that way. Like they’re special. Like they’re loved. Like the other person is incomplete without them at their side.

I raised my head and brought my lips against his. His stubble scratched the palms of my hands and my mouth opened beneath his as I gasped. He lightly nipped my bottom lip with his teeth, grabbing onto the top of the headboard. Sweat dampened his skin and I placed my hands against his muscular stomach, my eyes never leaving his. 

I wanted him.

I needed him.

I craved him.

I loved him.

And I was lucky enough to call him my husband.

“Trace,” I gasped his name, clawing at his back with my fingernails. Both of our breaths accelerated.

He peppered my face with kisses before laying claim to my mouth.

I thought I might explode from the feelings building inside me.

I found myself gasping his name again in-between kisses.

He grasped my hips, lifting mine to meet his. “Oh, God,” I moaned, fighting the urge to shut my eyes.

His teeth clenched together as he sped up his movements.

“Olivia,” my name was barely a whisper uttered from his lips. “Olivia,” he said my name a bit louder. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, no longer able to hold back.

He slipped from my body, but held me tightly in his arms, our dampened skin sticking together.

He pulled my hair away from my neck and kissed it where my pulse raced.

“Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he breathed.

“You didn’t find me. We found each other.”

I woke up groggily, something having awoken me. It took me a moment to realize it was a phone ringing.

Trace was sitting up too, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up around his head and he looked at me with sleepy eyes. “What the fuck is that?” He growled, the sheet falling to his waist.

“Phone,” I answered, looking around to see if it was his or mine. It was five in the morning and I was too exhausted to figure out why anyone would be calling us at this time.

He slipped his boxers on and searched the room for the annoying thing. He found it on the floor, under the dresser.

“Hello?” He answered, scratching the back of his head.

I watched the color drain from his face. He didn’t say anything to the person. Instead he took his phone and threw it against the wall. I watched as it shattered into pieces. He lowered his head into his hands and his sobs filled the room. I had never seen anyone look so completely and utterly broken before and I hated that it was Trace of all people. He didn’t deserve to go through this. No one did.

I slowly rose from the bed and approached him like one would a frightened animal.

“Trace,” I whispered his name so I didn’t startle him.

His chest heaved with desperate breaths and he refused to look at me. “Trace,” I repeated.

When he didn’t lower his hands, I responded by wrapping my arms around him. That got him to move. His hands left his face and he hugged me against him. My tears dampened his skin. I tried to dam the back, to be strong, but it was pointless.

“He’s dead,” Trace murmured unnecessarily. “Gramps is dead,” his voice was flat with no emotion. I knew he was processing the news and wishing it wasn’t true. His sobs increased and I didn’t know what to do to fix this. I was pretty sure there was
nothing
I could do, but that didn’t keep me from wanting to try. Trace was always so strong and never the one to get so emotional. I had never seen him quite like this…so broken and helpless. It tore me apart. I loved him and wanted to heal everything that hurt. But I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I was clueless.

So, I held him.

And he held me.

Maybe, somehow, we could keep each other together.

“Fuck this!” Trace yelled from the bedroom.

I came running into the room to see what the problem was. He stood in front of the mirror and the tie he’d been trying to put on had been thrown on the ground. It lay there in a heap looking sad and pathetic…sort of how I’d looked ever since we’d gotten the call about Gramps.

I picked the tie up off the floor and smoothed it out.

“Here, let me help you,” I forced a smile, draping the tie around his neck.