Chapter 10

As they drove to the sandwich shop near the office the next day, Connie couldn’t help but smile. It was Saturday afternoon, and she and Trace had spent the morning continuing to get to know each other. As promised, she prepared a huge breakfast, and they’d played Twenty Questions again.

She had never been good at sharing personal information, but Trace had a way of making her want to tell him everything about her. Despite the ice-cream-shop incident, this was turning out to be one of the best weekends she’d had in a long time, bruises and all.

Trace pulled into the parking lot. “Are you still okay with us getting food to go?”

Heavenly Sandwich Shop’s name was fitting. Usually, on Saturdays, the day’s special included barbecued meat. Whether ribs, chicken or brisket, it always smelled heavenly when you stepped into the building, as if prepared by angels from above.

“Carryout works for me,” she said.

They planned to binge-watch a Mafia show on Netflix, then later hang out by the pool once it cooled off outside. Connie had been surprised when Trace had suggested they go shopping for a swimsuit for her. He’d told her that she might as well test out the pool while she was visiting.

At first, she’d been hesitant to agree to spending time at his pool. Not because she was shy or harbored any issues about her body. No, she was very comfortable in her skin. Her uncertainty had everything to do with Trace. She was already struggling to control the potent desire to repeat the night of passion they’d shared a few months ago. And now, imagining him in swim trunks, her body was already heating up at the prospect of seeing his wide chest, broad shoulders and corded muscles on full display. Him practically naked would test the willpower of even the strongest woman. Then again, a little eye candy never hurt anyone.

She glanced at Trace as he shut off the car, wondering why he wasn’t making a move to get out. Instead, he turned to her, propping his right arm on the back of her seat.

“What?” she said. He just sat there and stared at her. His gaze volleyed from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes again.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do from the moment you woke up with bedhead,” he said, his tone serious, but Connie burst out laughing.

She’d ended up falling asleep in his bed and had the best sleep she’d had in a long time. Maybe she should’ve been embarrassed to wake up to him looking at her, messy hair and all. Instead, that moment felt right. It felt natural. During breakfast, he told her that he had planned to carry her to the guest bedroom after she fell asleep but hadn’t because he liked having her in his bed. And she loved being there snuggled up next to him and wrapped in his strong embrace.

“If this is you trying to sweet-talk or seduce me,” she finally said, “you’re off to a horrible start.” That got a smile out of him, and her stomach fluttered. Fighting her attraction to him was getting harder by the minute.

Without another word, he placed his hand at the back of her head and pulled her closer. “Don’t be mad, but I can’t help myself.”

Not giving her a chance to respond, Trace covered her mouth with his. This wasn’t a sweet and innocent kiss like the one from the other night. No, this was serious. This was a you’re-mine-and-I’m-yours type of tongue action going on, and Connie was loving every minute of it.

Her arm went around his neck, pulling him even closer and deepening their contact. Her heart thundered with each lap of his tongue as their moans mingled. Boy, could this man kiss. Trace was reminding her of what she’d been missing. Reminded her how good he made her feel, how good they were together.

Why had she put herself on hiatus from dating, or set the stupid rule about dating a coworker or subordinate? Trust issues? Yeah, those might’ve still been a part of her, and Connie couldn’t exactly quantify just how much he meant to her, but he was also quickly becoming more than a friend.

Trace slowly eased his mouth from hers, but neither of them released each other as they stared into each other’s eyes. Connie wanted to kiss him again, and again, and yet again. Hell, she wanted way more than a kiss, but now was not the time. Not just because they were camped out in his car. No, it also had to do with her coming to grips with whether she was ready for all that he was offering. Once she crossed that line with him again, there would be no turning back.

“I’m not apologizing for that,” he said with finality.

“Good, because I’m not sorry, either.”

“Cool. Then we’re on the same page. Sit tight.”

Trace climbed out of the car, and Connie couldn’t help but smile as he walked around the front of the vehicle. That kiss, though... Clearly, they’d both wanted that to happen, and she was glad he hadn’t waited for her to make the first move.

“Thank you,” she said when he opened the passenger door.

Trace flashed that sexy grin when he grasped her hand to help her out of the car. “My pleasure.”

Connie didn’t think she’d ever get used to the tingles that shot through her body each time he touched her. During breakfast that morning, he had asked that she spend the weekend with him, and she’d agreed. It was hard not to when he constantly showered her with attention and catered to her every need. More than anything, though, she was enjoying his company, and it was going to be hard to go back to business as usual come Monday.

Trace held on to her good hand, threaded his fingers with hers as they headed to one of the entrances. Since last night, she’d been doing a good job at icing her hand when it wasn’t wrapped. There was still a dull ache whenever she moved it a certain way, which was why it was currently wrapped. But it felt a lot better than it had the night before. She could move her fingers just fine, and the swelling had also gone down.

Connie inhaled deeply the moment they stepped into the restaurant. The savory aromas of herbs, spices and wood smoke greeted her at the door. Some people preferred fancy restaurants with great views, but give her finger-licking barbecue and any type of fries, and she was in heaven.

They stood in the shortest line and glanced up at the menu listed on several large boards that hung on the wall behind the registers. Normally, during the week, she ordered a garden salad and a shrimp po’boy or some other sandwich. Today would be anything barbecued.

“What are you getting?” she asked Trace, who was still perusing the menu.

“I’m thinking about the big-boy brisket sandwich with coleslaw and fries. After following you around the mall for the last few hours, I’ve worked up an appetite.”

She laughed and swatted his arm. “Whatever. You know good and well that you were the one pulling me from store to store.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “What can I say? I wanted you to have the perfect swimsuit.”

She actually found two—a yellow two-piece and a baby blue one-piece with a plunging neckline and cutouts on the sides. They were sexier than she usually went for, but she loved how she looked in them...and imagined Trace staring at her while she tried them on.

“What are you getting?” he asked.

Before Connie could answer, his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his jeans front pocket and glanced at the screen.

“I need to take this. Can you order for me?”

“Of course, and it’ll be my treat,” she said, but Trace slipped money into her hands and gave her a quick kiss before he strolled away.

He was proving to be one of those men who liked to take care of a woman. They’d have to talk about that later. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that he had to; she didn’t mind covering the tab sometimes.

She watched him maneuver around people who were waiting for their order, and she wasn’t the only one checking him out. There was a table, near the exit, that was occupied by four women, and all were watching Trace with interest.

Connie wanted to puff out her chest and say Yeah, he’s mine. You can look, but don’t even think about touching.

One of them, the one with a short bob and too much blue eye shadow, glanced at her. The woman smiled, lifted her coffee mug and nodded in acknowledgment. A grin tugged up the corners of Connie’s lips. Yep, she wasn’t the only one who appreciated the view that Trace provided. Masculine beauty at its best.

The line moved, and before long, Connie placed their order. She couldn’t wait to eat. Knowing that the food would be good added to the anticipation.

She stepped to the pick-up counter. While she waited, she pulled out her phone to check her social-media accounts, realizing she hadn’t done that since leaving work on Friday. That was unlike her.

“Connie?” the owner’s son, Nathan, called. “Connie!” he repeated.

“Right here.” She lifted her hand and maneuvered around a woman with two small children.

“Oh, hey, Ms. Shaw,” Nathan said. “I didn’t know your name was Connie.”

“It is, and that’s what you can call me instead of Ms. Shaw. How are you? How’s your mother?”

“I’m well, and Mom is doing great. She’s in back, probably bossing someone around.” He gave a little chuckle and handed Connie a large bag of food.

“Thanks, and tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

Connie stepped to the side and grabbed napkins that she stuffed into the bag, plus a few condiment packets. After double-checking that she had everything, she turned to leave, then groaned when her purse knocked over the container of straws, sending every one of them tumbling to the tiled floor.

“Oh, that’s just great.”

She set the bag of food on the cabinet, then bent down to pick up the wrapped straws.

“Whoops. You missed a few,” a deep voice to her right said as he handed her more straws.

“Thank you.” Connie stuffed them all into the container and repositioned her purse on her shoulder before standing. “I appreciate your...” The rest of her words stalled in her throat when her gaze collided with the owner of the deep, throaty voice. Familiar gray eyes stared back at her.

Oh. My. God.

Those are the eyes.

The eyes that had looked so familiar days ago.

“Always nice to help a pretty lady,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”

Connie’s pulse climbed higher, and her hands trembled when she set the straw container on the counter. “Uh, n-n-no,” she stammered, trying to pull herself together before making a complete fool of herself. She wasn’t sure what to say or do.

“You look familiar,” Gray Eyes said. “Maybe I’ve seen you here before.”

“Maybe,” Connie said, her tone noncommittal. She discreetly glanced at the door that Trace had walked out of, hoping he would hurry back. What the heck was taking him so long? He’d know what to do.

When she turned back to Mr. Gray Eyes, he was gone.

“Oh, no.”

Connie frantically looked around as anxiousness clawed through her body. He wasn’t in line. He wasn’t sitting at any of the tables or standing in the hallway that led to the restrooms. She started down that hall, thinking that maybe he had slipped into the men’s room, but another man exited the single-person restroom, confirming that Mr. Gray Eyes hadn’t gone that way.

How had he disappeared so fast?

With a tight grip on the bag of food, Connie hurried to the exit that led to the front of the building.

“Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me,” she said as she skirted around people, hoping to get to the guy before he got too far. After pushing open the front door, she glanced left and right, looking past people strolling down the sidewalk. “Where’d he go?” She jogged to the corner and looked both ways.

Gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Connie?”

She whirled around when she heard Trace’s voice. She wasn’t sure what he saw on her face, but his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he said in a rush and took the bag from her and wrapped his other arm around her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Trace, I saw him. The guy. The guy with the eyes.”

“What?”

Trace pulled her closer and glanced around. “Why would you come out here by yourself? Do you know how dangerous that could’ve been?”

“I know. I know. I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“I—I think so.” Connie searched her mind, trying to remember anything else about him. “I’m pretty sure. He had the same eyes. I remember those eyes. He also had a scar across his cheek and a five o’clock shadow. Tall, but not as tall as you. Maybe six feet, and lean.”

“What about the tattoo on his neck? Did you notice it?”

Connie sucked in a shaky breath, willing herself to calm down and think. She closed her eyes, trying to recall if the guy had a tattoo. When she opened her eyes again, Trace was watching her intently, worry in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Dammit. I don’t remember seeing a tattoo. Maybe he had one, but I was so shocked to see him, I’m not positive.”

“Did it seem like he recognized you? What did he say?”

She told him about the straws and how he had helped her pick them up. “He said it was nice to help a pretty lady. All I could do was stare at him. Then he asked if we’d ever met, and that I looked familiar. I glanced away for a second, and when I turned back, he was gone.”

“But you think it was the same guy?”

“I—I think so. Maybe. Oh, no. I’m not sure.” She dropped her forehead to Trace’s chest and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I’m just not sure. I don’t remember seeing a tattoo.”

Trace wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “It’s all right. Let’s see if Nancy is here,” he said of the restaurant owner. “There are a couple of cameras inside. Maybe she’ll let us take a look at the footage.”

They headed back down the street toward the restaurant. All Connie could think about was that she might’ve just let a killer walk away. Why couldn’t she have done something? At least she could’ve kept him talking until Trace returned.

Then again, all she’d really noticed at the bank were his eyes. What if this person wasn’t him? What if he just looked like the robber? The last thing she wanted to do was accuse an innocent man of something he didn’t do.

But what if he really is the man who killed Richard?

The way her heart was fiercely pounding had her thinking that he was.

An hour later, they entered the condo. Frustration drummed through Trace as he set the bag of food on the counter. Their lunch was definitely cold and he was starving, but he couldn’t eat until he got his head on straight. Seeing the mysterious, gray-eyed man again had definitely spooked Connie.

Before they’d left the sandwich shop, Nancy had let them watch the security footage. Unfortunately, it hadn’t done much good. There was a shot of the guy picking up straws and helping Connie, but all they could see was his back. The only thing that made Trace think that something was up with the man, aside from Connie’s observations, was the way he kept glancing around the restaurant. Like he was up to something and was checking to make sure he wasn’t being watched. Unfortunately, he never turned to the camera. Trace wasn’t sure if that was intentional or if it was by chance. Nancy mentioned that she had seen him in the restaurant a few times before.

“Considering I work for a security firm, you’d think I’d be more observant,” Connie said, sounding dejected as she slid onto one of the bar stools at his kitchen counter. “How is it that I can’t remember if this guy had a tattoo? His neck should’ve been at eye level.”

“Babe, you’re being too hard on yourself. He caught you off guard. Anyone would’ve freaked. Besides, maybe you didn’t notice a tattoo today because he didn’t have one.”

“But I’ll never forget those eyes. They were the same as the guy at the bank’s. I know I sound crazy right now, but, Trace, I’m sure.” She slammed her elbows on the counter and gripped the side of her head as if frustrated. “I’m pretty sure.”

Trace was at a loss over how to comfort her. She’d basically said the same thing throughout the ride back to his condo. He hated that he hadn’t been in the restaurant with her, but if he had been, he was sure the guy wouldn’t have approached her.

The telephone call Trace had received while at the sandwich shop was regarding the hit-and-run at the ice-cream parlor. The cops found the driver, a drunk man who had ended up in an accident that wrecked his car, as well as two others. Thankfully, there were only minor injuries to those involved. Knowing the jerk had been inebriated when he’d almost plowed into Connie made Trace doubly thankful that Larry had pushed her out of the way. It was also good to know that the parking-lot incident didn’t appear to be connected to the bank robbery. But now that Connie thought she’d seen the robber again, Trace’s concern for her safety was at an all-time high.

“Maybe you should stay with me for a few more days,” he said and put her food in the microwave.

Connie started shaking her head before speaking. “No. I’ve inconvenienced you enough. Despite what happened at the restaurant, it’s been fun hanging out with you. I’ll never forget how you came through for me, but I’m going home tomorrow night.”

“Fine. Then I’m going with you.” He couldn’t stop her from leaving, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep an eye on her.