Chapter 14
14
A very had avoided Trace and the café as long as she could. She’d overstocked her space at Phoebe’s shop, filled and shipped her Internet orders, taken care of her lunch orders for the day, dropped off samples all over town, stocked Finley’s Market, and even held a successful focus-group tasting to help her refine her opening menu.
Now she needed to spend some time on the small jobs at the café to make sure the opening day happened as planned. And, in truth, as she drove toward the café at 10:00 a.m. after forty-eight full hours away from Trace, her stomach flipped and fluttered with anticipation.
When she saw the state of the roof, excitement joined those sensations, and a smile lifted her spirits.
She parked in front of the café and climbed from the Jeep. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked up. “Trace?”
Another man peered over the edge, and it wasn’t Cody. This man was older than Trace, with sandy hair and a couple of days’ worth of beard growth. He offered a bright-white grin and a charismatic, “Hey there, beautiful. You must be Avery.”
“JT.” Trace’s bark startled her. She stepped back and turned to Trace as he came out of the café. He was glaring up at the other man, hands on his hips. “What did we talk about?”
“Oh, right.” JT sobered, offered a polite, “Hello, ma’am, I’m JT. Good to meet you. Gotta get back to work now.” And he disappeared.
Delaney’s warnings about Avery’s schedule floated through her head.
“Did you need to hire another guy?” she asked, returning her gaze to Trace. He didn’t look quite right—a little pale and a little pained with heavy shadows under his eyes. Her concern changed directions and mounted. “Where’s Cody? Are you okay? You don’t look so great.”
“Let’s go inside.” He glanced up. “Just let me check on him. I’ll be right in.”
He walked around the side of the building, and there was no doubt his lazy, sexy saunter had been replaced with stiff, slow movement. When he disappeared around the corner, Avery went inside and found all the upper kitchen cabinets installed. All the crown molding in place. The tables and chairs for the center of the seating area had been delivered and stacked along one wall.
Her thrill returned. A smile brightened her face, and she pressed a hand to her heart, making slow circles to take in how beautiful the space looked with all the finishing touches.
The screen door closed while she was looking at the pristine white subway tile he’d installed as the backsplash. “Trace, it’s gorgeous. Oh my God, I can’t believe what a difference?—”
His arm slipped around her waist, and he turned her . Wrapping her tight, he pressed his face to her hair and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said and the way I acted.”
His unexpected, uncharacteristic apology eased her heart open. With her hands on his shoulders, her cheek against his chest, she breathed him in, and the familiar scent of Trace’s musk heated her blood. “I’m sorry, too. I haven’t exactly been an open book.”
She pulled back and felt around his chest, his abdomen. “What’s under your shirt?”
“Let’s sit down.”
Alarm snuck in again. “Where’s Cody?” she asked, sitting on one of the new chairs he brought around for her. “Who’s JT?”
He sat, too, leaning forward, elbows on knees, and covered her hands with his. “Cody fell off the roof yesterday.”
She bolted to her feet. “What?”
“He’s okay.” Trace pulled on her hands, and she sat again, but her heart hammered, and any twinkle of excitement she’d arrived with had been snuffed out. “He hurt his shoulder, and he can’t help with the roof, so I hired JT.”
“Were you on the roof with him? Were you hurt?” Panic hit her from every angle. “How bad is his shoulder? Why didn’t you call me?” She pulled her hands from his and pressed them to her hot face. “Oh my God, I have to call my insurance. Am I covered for this sort of thing?”
Her mind was jumping from one worry to the next, back to the first, then on to another.
“Avery, listen to me, and I’ll answer all your questions.” Trace’s smooth, calm voice focused her. “I didn’t call you because I’ve caused enough stress for you lately and because I had it handled. Cody’s covered by my insurance, not yours. And it’s just a sprain. He’ll only be out of work for a few weeks.”
She pressed a hand to her heart and breathed a little easier. “What about you? What do you have on under your shirt?”
“I bruised a couple of ribs. It’s a brace that makes it easier to work. It’s no big?—”
She pushed to her feet again, a hand to her stomach. “You’ve been working with bruised ribs?”
“They aren’t my first. I’m just a little sore. I’m fine with a few Advil.”
“You should have called me.”
He sighed. “Okay. Next time I’ll call you. Would that make you feel better?”
“Next time? No, that doesn’t make me feel better.” She crossed her arms. “Who’s this JT guy? I don’t know him. Is he from here?”
Trace sat back, hands loose in his lap. He looked exhausted and Avery heard Delaney saying, “He’s got a lot on his plate, trying to manage the café and his dad. You’re both balancing very precariously on high wires right now. If a gust of wind came from the wrong direction...”
“No,” Trace said, “he’s just a guy I know.”
She worked to hold back her fear and frustration. “I know you’re working really hard to get this done for me on time. And I know you’re under miserable financial constraints. I wish I could do something about that, but I can’t.”
Her mind was spinning, searching for solutions. But she saw Cody tumbling off the roof, imagined Trace almost following, and her heart skittered. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Does this JT guy know what he’s doing? Is it safe for him to be up on the roof alone? I’m not sure how we could fit it into the budget, but if we need another guy with experience to be up there with him, I’ll ask Phoebe for more money, because you’re not getting up there again.”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes and paced, suddenly overwhelmed again just when she thought she had her emotions under control. “Maybe Ethan can spare a few days. Maybe Delaney knows someone?—”
Trace’s arms closed around her from behind. His arms doubled low on her waist and pulled her back against him. And oh, God, he felt so good. His big body pressed all along her back, her thighs.
The feel of someone holding her when she was worried. Supporting her when things got tough. It was so foreign. So good.
“I’ve got it under control,” he whispered at her ear, his voice rich and confident. A voice that shivered over her skin, tightened her chest, and created pressure between her legs—like the sexual version of the Pavlovian dog.
She grasped his arms with her hands, turned her head, and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Something really bad could have happened to you.” She sounded like a typical shaky female, but she didn’t care. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.” This coming from the woman who’d lived with the threat of losing her husband for eight years. She was beginning to wonder who in the hell she was. “Please don’t cut corners on safety. If you need something to be safe, just do it or get it or buy it. I’ll find the money somewhere.”
He pressed his face to her neck and sighed. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
Her heart softened. Emotion spilled over and tears pushed at her eyes. David hadn’t told her he’d missed her in years, even when he’d been gone for months on end. Being wanted enough to be missed filled Avery with a sense of completeness she’d always craved but had never been able to fill. And even though other men had expressed interest and wanted to continue dating her, only Trace’s desire quelled the longing to be loved.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted. This was so out of control. So not what either of them had planned. So not what either of them had wanted at the outset.
He lowered his head and whispered, “Kiss me, baby.”
Without hesitation, she turned her head and lifted her mouth, searching for the reassurance of his. His lips were warm and solid and, Lord, the man made her go soft. She relaxed against him, and he tightened his arms. She opened, stroking his lip with her tongue. Trace’s soft moan drifted into her mouth as he met her touch with the slow, gentle glide of his own tongue.
This, more than any words, conveyed his regret. Spoke to how much he’d missed her over their two days apart. Avery tried to rationalize her way through the situation, even as her heart stretched to open again after being cloistered. But she’d learned that rationale and emotion often lived in parallel universes, and trying to get them to mesh when they just wouldn’t was a losing battle. Like now.
When she let the resistance go, Avery lost herself in him. And her mind had drifted to thoughts of taking him upstairs for a quick reunion when Trace suddenly, almost violently, pulled away, stealing all his heat and support.
Stunned into confusion, Avery swayed. When she’d found her balance and turned toward him, she found Trace facing the front door. He pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned his butt against a table nearby. Before she could form a question, the squeak of the screen sounded and JT stepped in.
Trace looked as relaxed as if he were on a coffee break, but Avery wasn’t quite as masterful at pulling herself together. She rubbed a hand over one hot cheek, then over her beard-roughened mouth and looked at the floor.
“Uh...sorry to interrupt,” JT said in a hesitant voice that told Avery he’d clearly seen them kissing.
“You’re not,” Trace said, voice cold. “What do you need?”
“I’ve got that appointment with my PO today. You know how they tweak out if?—”
“Go,” Trace cut him off. “And take the rest of the day.”
Avery glanced at Trace, trying to read him. She’d never seen him act this curt to anyone, and she’d seen him interact with a lot of people over the last two months. Including people he didn’t like. Unease spread through her stomach, killing all the heat he’d created.
“Sure,” JT said, but he was looking at Avery. And he was smiling in a way that made her feel dirty. “I get it. I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow.”
Silence filled the space as they watched JT stride to his old Toyota, try to start it up twice before the motor turned over, then drive away.
With a sick feeling in her stomach, Avery narrowed her eyes on Trace. “His PO? Is he talking about a parole officer?”
Trace’s jaw ticked, and he kept his gaze on the floor. “I only need him a few more days to get the roof done. The rain will be here soon. It would take me too long to find someone else. And as much as I want to do it myself, I can’t.”
Avery crossed her arms and paced to the window, anger doubling and tripling inside her. He’d brought a prison buddy into her café? That left a dark, icky feeling inside her—a little girl backed into a corner. A shadow on a dark street. Footsteps on the stairs in an empty house.
And when Trace had spent the last two months going above and beyond to make her comfortable throughout the process, she recognized that no matter how badly he needed this guy, bringing him here was out of character.
She took a breath and braced to dig into a part of his life they’d stayed well away from up until now. “What did he do for you?”
Trace’s gaze swung toward her, veiled, cool. He’d disappeared behind some kind of veneer, and Avery heard Delaney again, telling her that people with scars don’t always make the best decisions.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean I don’t believe you’d work with him, let alone bring him here just because you need help. You have other resources.”
“No, I don’t. Not if I want to keep you within your budget.”
She clenched her teeth, ready to lose her shit. “ What did he do for you?”
Shame flashed through his eyes before he looked at the floor again. His jaw muscle jumped, and it took him what felt like forever to answer.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Got between me and another inmate.” His voice was low and so dark a chill rippled down her spine. “I’d be dead if he hadn’t.”
She pulled in a sharp breath. Her eyes stung. Emotions clashed and burned. Austin’s words tried to pry their way into her head, which royally pissed her off and sent her into rebellion mode.
She closed the distance between them. He didn’t move, so Avery lifted his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. The pain and guilt and shame turned his beautiful eyes navy blue and stabbed Avery in the heart.
“You stay off the roof,” she said. “He’s gone the minute it’s done. And you keep him away from me.”
Gratitude softened his gaze. “Baby, he can’t do it himself either. I promise to get rid of him the second it’s done, and I promise to keep him away from you, but I’ve got to get up on that roof if we’re going to stay on schedule and on budget.” He lifted his hand and ran it over her hair, then squeezed the back of her neck and pulled her forehead to his. “Trust me on this.”
Her heart clenched and all its walls slid into place. She wanted to believe, wanted to trust, but experience and common sense wouldn’t let her.
She pushed back, crossed her arms and stared at his chest. “Fine.” She couldn’t control him. Couldn’t change him. Pulling in a deep breath, she forced herself to let it go and just absorb the hurt and fear. “I’m here to paint. I’m going to start upstairs, and I don’t need any help.”
Avery dropped her arms and turned toward the stairs. He reached out, catching her with a gentle hand on her forearm. She met his eyes, and the look there was raw and real and so honest, it hurt her heart.
“Thank you,” was all he said.
She didn’t know what he was thanking her for, but it didn’t matter. She slid her hand down to his, squeezed, then let go and continued upstairs.