“When I suggested we play Twenty Questions, I didn’t mean that you’d be the only one to ask them,” Trace said on a laugh. “The object of the game is for you to ask me a question, then I ask you one. You’ve asked at least five back-to-back in the last ten minutes without giving me a chance to ask any.”
“Oh. Well, you need to jump in.” Connie shifted on the sofa, pulling her legs beneath her. “Each time you answered one of mine, you made me think of another one.”
Trace couldn’t have planned his visit better if he’d tried. Stopping by Connie’s place without calling ahead had been risky. Now he was glad he had taken the chance. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had such a nice evening. Working several assignments in a row for almost a month had limited his and Connie’s interactions, but tonight felt like they were making up for lost time.
More than anything, though, she seemed to be handling the day’s events better than he’d expected. Worrying about her being alone had driven him to come up with the plan of making cookies and dropping them off. Especially since he loved feeding her sweet tooth. Aside from the little freak-out moment she’d had when the power went out, she’d acted pretty normal and was handling herself well.
Do you think they found me?
Her question had taken him by surprise, but it let him know that the bank robbery wasn’t far from her mind. Though it was a reasonable question, it hadn’t been his first thought. Trace wasn’t sure how long it would take for the electricity to be restored, but he’d stick around for as long as she needed him.
As he watched her now, the flicker of flames from the candles bathed her copper skin in a combination of light and shadows. Connie was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and the fact that she didn’t appear to know it made her that much more desirable.
He played with a long strand of her hair that framed her face and twirled it around his finger. He just wanted to touch her. When he’d kissed her earlier, he thought she would’ve reprimanded him. Instead, the feathery peck he had placed on her lips seemed to calm her some. Which was the response he’d been going for. It was a risky move. Not because he thought she would get mad. No. The risky part was him wanting more from her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want a repeat of the night they had shared together.
“What’s something that no one knows about you?” Trace asked.
Her brow furrowed as she tapped her finger on her cheek. “Hmm, that’s a good question. I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.”
“Come on. There has to be something. Did you run the New York City marathon in under two hours? Can you hop around on one leg while holding a plate and eating with a fork? Do you have a weird fetish? You gotta give me something, and I’m talking something good.”
Laughing, Connie shook her head. “You are too funny. Well, I don’t have any fetishes. At least none I’m aware of, and though my balance is pretty good, I’m not sure I can do the whole hopping-and-eating trick. The only thing I can think of that most people don’t know about me is that I sleep with a Cabbage Patch doll.”
Trace stared at her, trying to determine if she was serious, and then threw back his head and burst out laughing. He almost didn’t recognize the sound. His stomach tightened, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d hooted and hollered the way he was doing right now. Pounding on the sofa, he tried to stop and catch his breath, but when he glanced at her frowning at him, his laughter started all over again.
Connie punched him in the arm. “Would you knock it off? It is not that funny.”
“I—I’m sorry, but come on. You know that’s funny,” he said, holding his stomach and struggling to pull himself together. He wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.
“I’ll admit it’s a little funny, but dang, Trace.” She chuckled. “You’re acting like you just sat through a Dave Chappelle skit. I pour my heart out to you and this is how you respond?” she said dramatically, but now began laughing herself.
“Okay. Okay, baby. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand and leaned back against the sofa, still panting. “You just caught me off guard. So, does this thing—I mean, your doll—have a name?”
“His name is Vinnie Montell,” she said proudly.
Trace lost it. He laughed so hard, he fell onto his side and rolled right off the sofa. That made him laugh even harder. Still howling, he stumbled to his feet, barely able to catch his breath.
“Ugh! I can’t believe I told you.”
He dodged the sofa pillow Connie threw across the room at him and was glad it didn’t hit one of the candles.
“If you tell anyone what I just told you, so help me. I will...I will...I will never speak to you again, and I’m serious!”
When Trace finally pulled himself together, he dropped back onto the sofa, totally winded. “I promise. I won’t tell a soul. Besides, no one would believe me, anyway.”
“Oh, shut up.”
After several long minutes, when he could finally talk again without laughing, he asked, “What made you buy a doll to sleep with?”
“I didn’t. Trinity bought it as a joke one year for my birthday, and I thought he was cute. I kept him. A few years ago, I was going through a rough patch and wasn’t sleeping.” She shrugged. “I slept with Vinnie one night and had the best sleep I’d had in months. So I kept sleeping with him.”
“Well, if you ever want to replace Vinnie with a real man, I’m your guy.”
Connie rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed, but Trace didn’t miss that she was fighting hard not to smile.
He wasn’t sure what else to say. If another woman had told him she slept with a doll, he’d probably find an excuse to leave, but this was Connie. She was one of the most put-together people he’d ever met. This info about her was a bit strange, but who was he to judge? His sister and brothers called him strange for one reason or another. He had to admit, though, sleeping with a doll as an adult was...different. Trace was just glad she hadn’t needed it the night he had stayed over. Now, that would’ve been weird. If she took a chance on him, she’d never need Vinnie Montell as a sleep mate again.
“Okay, enough about me. What about you? Same question. What’s something that no one knows about you?”
“Well, I can’t think of anything as...intriguing as your confession, but most people don’t know that I play three instruments.”
“What?” Connie leaned away and stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “How’d I not know that? What instruments?”
“Piano, guitar, and I dabble a little with the saxophone.”
“Get out! I love a man who can play the sax.”
“Good to know. I’ll start carrying it with me so that I can serenade you every chance I get.”
“I look forward to it. That explains why you usually have jazz playing on the radio whenever I ride with you... But wait. I told you something superembarrassing about myself, and that’s all you’ve got?”
Trace shrugged, trying not to fall out laughing again. “What can I say? I don’t have any unusual details to share. I guess I’m just perfect.”
Connie tsked and waved him off.
For the next few minutes, they lobbed questions back and forth. Her responses gave Trace more insight into who she was, but didn’t go as deep as he would have liked. There was so much he wanted to know, but he was careful in what he asked, not wanting her to shut down on him.
“If you could trade lives with someone, who would you choose?” Connie asked.
Trace played with a strand of her hair that had fallen out of the hair clip, twirling it around his fingers as he thought about the question. His mind took him back to a time in his life that he’d tried to bury for the last twenty-plus years. “In high school, my senior year, there was a time when I wanted to be anybody but myself. My self-confidence took a big hit after I let someone’s degrading words get into my head. It took me years to rebound from the damage this person caused.”
He would never forget that time in his life. Edward Sanderson, a man he once looked up to, treated him like he was the lowest form of human life. Like he was a nobody. All without really knowing him. What Trace wouldn’t give to show Sanderson the man he had become.
Connie placed her hand on top of his. “That sounds awful. Who was the somebody?”
Damn. He should’ve known there’d be a follow-up question. “Let’s just say it involved senior prom, a girl and her father. I’ll save the rest of that story for another day. Believe it or not, I haven’t always been as confident, good-looking and irresistible as I am now.”
“Oh, please. Arrogant much?”
Trace chuckled. He knew that response would distract her. “Hey, what can I say? I’m an amazing guy.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“It’s true, but, anyway, it’s my turn to ask a question. Why won’t you let me take you out on a real date?” There, he’d asked it. The question had been burning a hole in his mind since that night they spent together. She had given him a half-assed excuse when he’d asked back then. This time, he was hoping for more detail.
Connie pulled on the collar of her T-shirt and moved her head back and forth. “Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?”
“Yeah, it’s hot. If you want to strip out of your clothes, I wouldn’t stop you.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What? I’m serious. That’s a good way for you to cool off.”
“You are not getting me out of my clothes, Trace Halstead.”
“Then maybe I should take off mine.” It was definitely getting warm in the house since the electricity was out and the air conditioner wasn’t working.
“Don’t you dare.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I guess we’ll sweat it out. Answer the question while I open a couple of windows.” It should’ve cooled off some outside, or at least he hoped.
“I already told you why I can’t go out with you. I have a rule—I don’t date coworkers.”
“That’s what you said, but I have a feeling there’s more to that rule.”
“‘Let’s just say...’” she mocked him and smiled, but then turned serious. “It’s not just about the rule, but that’s a big part of my reason. Trace, I have, um, trust issues when it comes to men. I also haven’t made the best dating choices, which is why I’m taking a break and focusing on my career right now.”
Trace opened the last of the three windows and wondered when the electricity would be back on.
“I would never hurt you, Connie. I’m making it my personal mission to prove to you that I’m trustworthy,” he said when he returned to the sofa.
Connie didn’t say anything. She lifted her mug of hot chocolate and took a few sips.
Trace placed his hand on her back. He couldn’t help himself. His hand moved in small circles along her spine, and he was glad she didn’t pull away. Being here with her felt natural, like hanging out in the evenings together was their norm. He wanted to continue getting to know her because what he knew so far, he liked.
“I’m planning to help you forget every man who came before me. It’s time you learned we’re not all chumps.”
A smile played on Connie’s lips before she gave a little laugh. “I didn’t say they were chumps. At least not all of them. Okay, maybe most of them were, but not all of them.”
Trace wanted to be the one to keep her laughing. He didn’t know what it was going to take to earn her trust, but he was up for the challenge.
Connie held up her mug. “This hot chocolate is really good. I can taste more of the alcohol now that it has sat for a while.”
She set the mug back on the table, and it didn’t go unnoticed to Trace that she didn’t comment on his intentions. That was okay. She would soon learn that he was tenacious when he went after what he wanted, and what he wanted most was her.
Connie’s cell phone rang and she jumped, then placed her hand on her chest. “I think my nerves are shot.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine they would be after the day you’ve had,” Trace said as she hurried to the dining area, where she had left the cell phone on the table.
“Hello,” Connie said in a rush. “Yes, this is she.”
Trace could only hear her side of the conversation, but whoever it was seemed to be doing most of the talking.
Connie gasped. “Oh, no.”
Trace stood and slowly moved toward her. His body tensed with dread when her trembling hand hovered in front of her mouth.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. Who can I contact if I want to do something for his family?” she asked in a shaky voice and nodded as if the person on the other end of the call could see her. “Yes, tomorrow would be fine. Thank you.”
“What happened?” Trace asked and put his arm around her when she disconnected the call.
“Richard...he didn’t make it. He died about an hour ago.”
“Aww, man, I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
Connie pinched the bridge of her nose, and Trace watched her carefully. She leaned on the back of a chair and sighed.
“I can’t believe it. I wanted him to pull through. When I woke up this morning, I definitely didn’t see my day turning out like this. I keep asking myself how people can be so callous and take a life like it’s nothing. It just doesn’t make sense!” she snapped.
“I know.” Trace started rubbing her back again, wanting to offer some type of comfort. “As long as we live, there’ll be people in the world who do senseless crap. But I hope you’re not still blaming yourself for not being able to help him.”
She shook her head and blew out a rough breath. “I know there was nothing I could do, but it still bothers me that I cowered and did nothing.”
Trace grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look at him. “Sweetheart, you probably did more than anyone else did or could’ve done. You gave the authorities a lead. A lead that they hadn’t gotten with the other robberies. With your information and what they should be able to pull from security footage, hopefully they’ll have those assholes in custody in no time.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Trace hoped so, too, because the sooner those guys were behind bars, the less he’d worry about Connie. Until then, she was going to see a lot more of him, whether she liked it or not.