Connie took several deep breaths and released them slowly as she and Trace rode the elevator up to the twelfth floor of his building. The soft instrumental jazz flowing through the overhead speakers should’ve helped soothe the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades. It didn’t. This was her first time being at his place.
She fidgeted and nibbled on her thumbnail. To say she was a little nervous about sleeping at Trace’s condo was an understatement, but that wasn’t what had her on edge. Her distress had everything to do with the events of the last thirty-six hours. Had it not been for his presence on both days, she probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it together as well as she had.
Am I still interested in more than a friendship with you? Hell, yeah, and to be honest, deep down I think you want that, too.
Trace’s earlier words filtered into her mind. Their feelings were definitely mutual. Connie just wasn’t ready to admit that she wanted him in her life as much as he claimed to want her. Not simply as friends. Deep in her heart, she wanted someone she could count on. Someone she could trust. Someone who loved her unconditionally. And that someone was Trace.
But removing the wall that she had carefully erected around her heart would leave her vulnerable to another betrayal. She couldn’t deal with that again. On the other hand, if she didn’t take a chance on him, he would eventually move on. She would be left wondering what could have been.
Connie had never known Trace to have been in a serious relationship, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t had any opportunities. Even on the way to his place, someone named Sylvia had called him twice, but Trace had ignored her. Connie wasn’t naive enough to think there weren’t others who were probably trying to get his attention. Others who weren’t afraid to let him into their hearts.
She stole a glance at him as the elevator continued to climb. He hadn’t said much on the way to his place, but who could blame him? He didn’t know if she would bite his head off if he asked the wrong question. Or snap at him for offering to help her in one way or another. One of her character flaws—pushing people away for self-preservation—had reared its wicked head again. Despite that, Trace was still sticking around. And she liked that.
“Are you mad at me?” Connie asked just as the elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open.
Trace frowned. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?” He reached for her good hand as they exited. As he guided her down the long hallway, their footsteps were silent on the multicolored carpet.
“I figured you were since you’ve barely said two words to me since we left my house. I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with. If you’ve changed your mind about me staying, I’ll understand. I can call an Uber and go to my sister’s place.”
“You’re not going anywhere. I’m not letting you out of my sight until the cops find the person who ran into you.”
“Almost ran into me,” Connie corrected him. “They didn’t hit me. Thank goodness.”
“Either way, you’re stuck with me for a while. As a matter of fact, I’m not letting you out of my sight until they catch those assholes. So get used to seeing me around. You can be stubborn if you want to, but I can be just as bullheaded.”
She tsked. “I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me.”
Trace glanced down at her and a slow smile appeared, immediately setting her at ease. “The longer this day goes, the more I’m seeing your other traits.”
Connie wasn’t sure how to take that, but she hated that he’d seen her unyielding side. Even though she knew he was trying to be helpful after the parking-lot incident, she still wasn’t able to tone down her Ms. Independent persona.
“This is me,” Trace said when they stopped in front of one of the condo doors. “Welcome to my home.”
Connie knew when they’d pulled up to the building, and again when he’d introduced her to the doorman, that the place was high-end. Now that they’d entered the foyer of his condo, she could confirm it. High-end, indeed.
She slowed when the space opened up to his living area, noticing tall ceilings and the gray bamboo-wood floors. She loved the hardwood and had gotten an estimate for her own house a few months ago.
The family room was to her right. The space resembled something straight out of House Beautiful. The walls were stark white and adorned with African artwork, offsetting a large black leather sectional that screamed “bachelor pad.” Floor-to-ceiling windows took up one wall, and in the distance, she knew there were mountains, even though the darkness of night hid them from view. What really distinguished the space was the shiny baby grand piano.
“Trace, this place is gorgeous.”
Connie turned and saw a dining area and a cook’s kitchen with modern black stainless-steel appliances. An eat-at island with a marble countertop divided the two spaces. The black-and-white color scheme rolled throughout the living space, accented by splashes of purple and gray.
“I’m glad you like it. I’mma put your bag in the guest room. Make yourself at home.”
He disappeared to the back of the apartment, and Connie strolled over to the piano. She had always wanted to learn how to play, but never took the time to take lessons. Tempted to press on the keys, she stopped herself. It was late. No need disturbing the neighbors with her amateur abilities. Instead, she strolled over to the windows.
The day had started out pretty good and gone wrong later, but this had been a long night, much like the one before. If Connie didn’t know better, she’d think a dark cloud was following her around.
As her gaze settled on the scene below, more of the tension in her body slowly dissipated. She stared out at a stunning rock pool that had a magnificent waterfall, illuminated by soft green lights. The landscape included boulders, palm trees, plants and flowers, emitting a spa-like feel. The relaxing sound of gurgling water that floated up to the window reminded Connie of a babbling brook and was like a healing salve to her raw nerves.
“What a magnificent view,” she murmured.
“It is, isn’t it?”
Startled, Connie whirled around, her hand flying to her chest. “Goodness. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Trace handed her an opened bottle of water and over-the-counter pain medication, then stood next to her and gazed out into the night. “This view is what sold me on the place. I looked at a couple of condos and single-family houses not too far from here. They were nice, but this felt like home the moment I walked through the door. I’ve been here a few years and can’t see myself moving anytime soon.”
“I can see why. This would be hard to leave.”
Trace showed Connie around, telling her a story about each piece of art in every room. The more Connie saw, the more she fell in love with his place. She had only been there a few minutes and already felt at home...and safe.
Not that she was surprised. There was a protectiveness that Trace embodied that made her feel shielded and cherished. What if they became an official couple—would he continue to be that way? Yes. She knew him well enough to know that this side of him that he was showing her was real, and she liked it. She liked him. A lot.
“Your place is exquisite, Trace. I might have to visit more often,” she said teasingly, but deep down, she knew she wanted to be wherever he was.
“I’m glad you like the place, and you’re always welcome here. You’re already on the guest list with the doorman, so use your open invitation.”
Connie stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Yep. Only those closest to me make the list. So that means I want you to visit.”
Unexpected pleasure surged through her body and tugged at her heartstrings. After the way she’d been insisting they just be friends, Connie found it hard to believe that he had added her to his guest list. It might’ve been a small gesture to him, but to her it meant more than she could ever express.
She rested her hand on his arm and squeezed. “You’re...you’re amazing,” she said, her heart bursting with something akin to love, but she wasn’t ready to go there. She wanted to say so much more, but she couldn’t quite find the words to express just how much she appreciated him. Besides that, after the days that she’d been having, Connie feared she’d start boo-hooing like a baby at any minute. Instead of getting too emotional, she said, “I’ll come, but you have to promise you’ll let me use your pool. Then it’s a deal.”
His sexy grin made an appearance, and he placed a lingering kiss against her left temple. “Just say when. Now, have a seat at the table so I can take a look at your hand and wrist.”
He had already grabbed a hand towel and compression bandage from the linen closet. Now he was pulling an ice pack from the freezer. The way her hand and wrist were throbbing, Connie was game for whatever he was planning. The ibuprofen hadn’t kicked in yet; maybe the ice would help ease the aching.
Connie watched his every move. She’d been on her own for so long, it was nice having someone take care of her for a change. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Baby, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” The deep, sensual tone of his voice sent a delicious tingle scurrying over her skin.
God, this man. How the heck was she going to survive the night and keep things platonic? Part of her wanted them to dive into his bed and she have her way with him. However, the other part of her wanted to use this time to get to know him better.
Trace picked up a small remote control and pointed it at a Bluetooth speaker sitting near the coffee maker on the counter. “A Woman’s Worth,” one of Connie’s favorite songs by Alicia Keys, spilled from the speaker.
Trace pulled out the leather dining chair to her right and sat down. “It’s swollen,” he said after inspecting her hand. The gentle way he poked and prodded stirred something within Connie. He was probably trying to determine for himself that there were no broken bones. But his touch was evoking a different type of pleasure.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, putting pressure on the heel of her hand.
Connie gritted her teeth to keep from flinching. “A little,” she muttered and started pulling her hand away, but Trace held on.
Their gazes met and held, and something so magnetic passed between them. Without taking his eyes from hers, he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist. The gesture was as sweet and intimate as if he had graced her with a kiss on the lips.
Connie’s heart beat a little faster. How could one simple kiss suddenly heat her body from the inside out? Something intense had flared inside her. Charming was one thing, but this virile man oozed sex appeal and had her wanting to throw caution right out the window.
“I hate that you got hurt,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
His sultry dark eyes held so much compassion. It was like being swathed in a cashmere blanket, warm and soothing, while still seductive. This sweet, gentle giant was quickly getting under her skin, making it difficult to not fall for him even more. It was hard enough trying to stick to the rules she had set for herself. His touch, the way he looked at her as if she was a precious gift—all of it put a crack in her defenses.
Trace wrapped the ice pack with the towel and placed it on her wrist. “You scared me half to death tonight. Talking to you on the phone one minute, then hearing you scream the next freaked me the hell out. I didn’t know what to think, or what I would find when I pulled into that parking lot.”
“I’m sorry if I worried you.” Connie squeezed his thigh and felt his muscles contract under her touch. “I kinda scared myself there, too.” She gave a little laugh but sobered as she thought about how that situation could’ve turned out differently.
What if no one had been outside? What if that guy, Larry, hadn’t reacted so quickly? She could’ve been killed. Then what? Her life would’ve been over, and she wouldn’t have accomplished half the things she still wanted to experience.
Life’s too short to not live it to the fullest. The words she had spoken to Erica earlier meant even more now. Connie needed to take heed of them herself and quit letting fear rule her life. She also needed to stop being overly cautious about allowing a man to get close if she ever wanted to have a forever love.
“The small bruise on your cheek is barely noticeable, but how does the scrape on your chin feel?”
“It stings a little, but it’s not bad. I put some ointment on it before we left my place. It should be fine in a day or two.”
Trace didn’t say anything, only nodded. After fifteen minutes, he lifted the ice pack and set it aside. Connie watched in silence as he began wrapping her hand with the compression bandage. He did it with such precision, it was safe to say he must have done it before.
“Do you want something stronger than water to drink? Maybe tequila?” he asked when he was done. Connie tried wiggling her hand. The bandage was snug, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.
“Tequila is tempting, but I’d better stick with water. Especially since I took pain meds not too long ago.”
“That’s right.” Trace went to the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. “Are you in more pain than you’re letting on? Because if you are, it’s not too late to head to the hospital.”
Connie yawned loudly and quickly covered her mouth. “Oh, sorry, and no. I think the ice and the hand wrap will do the trick.”
“Well, since you’re yawning, maybe you should try and get some sleep. The sheets on the bed are clean and you know where the towels are located. Just make yourself at home.”
Connie nodded. She was tired enough to climb into bed, but she wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts.
“I looked at the picture you texted me earlier,” she said, figuring she had surprised Trace if his raised eyebrows were any indication.
He set his beer on the counter. “Was she your teller?”
“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters.”
Trace’s anxiousness when he called earlier had been palpable through the phone line. Even now, as he tapped his fingertips on the counter, he seemed restless. On edge. Connie couldn’t understand why he was still hung up on the robbery. Sure, the what-ifs still plagued her, but that was different. She had actually been there. Of course she’d still be playing it over and over in her mind.
“They don’t have a reason to seek me out, Trace. I wasn’t near the teller when the robbery took place. As a matter of fact, while I was talking to Richard, I’m sure she was helping other people. Like I said before, everyone at the bank are witnesses. The crooks have no reason to think that I can somehow lead authorities to their doorstep.”
“Yeah, but you’re the only one who admitted to being able to identify one of the robbers.”
“Not really. Just his eyes and a little of his tattoo. I’m sure there are tons of people with gray eyes in Las Vegas.”
“True, but you said his eyes were unusual and familiar. What if he’s someone you know or someone who knows you? Or maybe you’ve seen him before, but just can’t remember where. I’m willing to bet those guys aren’t taking any chances that you recall more than his eye color. Besides that, we still don’t know if the incident from earlier is connected. They might actually know where you live.”
Anything was possible. The second her gaze had connected with the man’s, Connie had experienced déjà vu. But outside of work and hanging out with her sister or Trinity, she didn’t socialize much. Especially lately, since work consumed a lot of her time.
“I honestly don’t think he’s anyone I know. I’d remember those eyes.”
“What about his tat?”
“I only saw a little of it.”
Trace huffed out a breath and pushed away from the counter. “I’m still hoping that Max can get me a copy of the sketch. Maybe it’s a prison or gang tattoo. Actually, if that’s the case, the Feds should be able to run it through one of their databases. Have you remembered anything else?”
Connie sighed. “Are you going to ask me that every day?”
Trace studied her, and his eyes softened. “Probably.”
“Well, don’t. If anything else comes to mind, I’ll tell you. Until then, let’s pretend I was never at the scene of the robbery.”