Chapter 9

At midnight, Trace was sitting up in bed, his back against the upholstered headboard as he flipped through TV channels. A night owl, he rarely went to bed before one or one thirty. This night was no different, except for the fact that he had company. From his vantage point, he could keep an eye on Connie sitting on the balcony that was right off his bedroom. At first, he had thought about lounging in the family room, but with his overprotective nature, Trace didn’t want to be that far from her. This way, he could give her some time alone, while still being nearby if she needed him.

The dimmed bedroom lights cast just enough illumination for Connie to not be in the dark. But not so much that would take away from the serenity of being on the balcony, listening to the calming waterfall below.

It seemed surreal to have her at his place. How many times had he imagined Connie spending time in his space or staying the night? This wasn’t exactly what Trace had in mind, but he loved having her here. She wanted him to forget about the robbery and everything attached to it, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was unsettled, knowing that Connie might easily still be a target. Those guys wouldn’t want anyone, a witness or a teller, left behind if there was a possibility that they could be identified.

Trace had talked with Trinity before heading to Connie’s place earlier that day. He’d had questions that someone with a law-enforcement background might be able to answer, like what the chances were that the robbers would try to find Connie. She thought the possibility was very slim, but when pressed, she admitted to being concerned.

Trace’s attention went to the balcony door as it eased open, and Connie tiptoed in. His gaze traveled the length of her profile. She wore a cute pajama shorts set that wasn’t necessarily sexy, but he knew what was underneath the cotton material, and her well-toned, shapely legs were another story.

“I’m not asleep,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her as she closed the door behind her.

“Oh, good. I mean, I didn’t want to wake you. I hadn’t planned on staying out there so long, but it was so relaxing.”

He smiled at the words on her short-sleeved top—Kiss me, I’m adorable. Trace wanted nothing more than to do that. However, he had decided that if anything ever happened between them again, she’d have to be the one to make the first move. He just hoped she wouldn’t make him wait too long.

“Like you, the balcony is one of my favorite spots in the house. Oh, and I’ll make sure there’s coffee ready when you get up. That way you can experience the morning out there with a strong cup of joe.”

Connie shook her head. “Trace, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. You’ve already done so much. The least I can do is fix a cup of coffee. Actually, if you have eggs, bacon or similar food items, I’ll even volunteer to make breakfast for us in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.”

Connie glanced at the television. “What are you watching?”

Trace had just switched to Netflix and was planning to watch one of his favorite stand-up comedians. He told Connie, then added, “You’re welcome to join me if you’re not too sleepy.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him. He’d been observing her for much of the night, and her tough-guy act wasn’t working on him.

No, she was too compassionate. There was no way the incident wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. Not only had she been there, but someone she knew had also been killed. She could pretend all she wanted, but she wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“Okay, maybe for a little while,” she conceded and climbed onto the king-size bed.

Trace dimmed the lights even more. Not to the point where they couldn’t make out each other’s features, but enough to help them both relax.

“I’ve never heard of this guy before, but he’s pretty funny.”

“He is. I’ve seen his show in person a few times. I’ll let you know the next time he’s in town.”

“I’d like that. Speaking of shows, I have two tickets to a Broadway musical that’s coming to Vegas in a couple of weeks. Do you want to go with me?”

Trace glanced at her, surprised by the invite. He wasn’t big on musicals, but for her, he’d sit through one. As far as he could remember, he didn’t have anything planned for that day. Even if he had a prior commitment, he’d cancel.

“I’d love to go with you.”

Once the show finished, another one came on. Connie was quiet, only laughing every now and then, and her head now rested on Trace’s shoulder. If she fell asleep, he’d just carry her into the other room. There was no sense in tempting fate by having her sleep in his bed all night...no matter how much he wanted her to.

Connie felt a peace she hadn’t experienced for a while as she lay against Trace. It was nice knowing that they could hang out in his bed and have the interaction not be sexual. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a meaningful relationship with a member of the opposite sex. One where there were no expectations. Instead, there was a friendship. Well...more than that. There was someone who wasn’t her sister or Trinity that she could call on when needed.

“Thanks again for being here for me these last couple of days,” she said.

Trace had turned the volume down on the television, and the only other sound was the subtle hum of the air conditioner.

“I’m glad I could be here for you.”

He leaned forward, forcing Connie to lift her head, adjusted the pillow behind him and scooted down until he was lying on his back. Then he opened his arm to her.

“Come here.”

Connie hesitated for only a second, then eased down and rested her head on his broad chest. Her body ached some, and the scrape on her stomach stung a little, but it felt good to be in his arms. He wore a navy blue T-shirt that hugged his muscular body and blue lounging pants. He might as well have been naked, though, because her body was on high alert being so close to him.

Man, he smells amazing. His signature scent, a woodsy, citrus fragrance that would forever remind her of him, surrounded her like a gentle breeze on a summer day.

Trace held her close to his side. “Relax, sweetheart. I can feel how tense you are. Nothing is going to happen between us unless you want it to. So try to loosen up.”

He went back to watching television while Connie did exactly what he suggested. His tenderness was like a soothing balm to her tattered nerves, working its way deep into her soul, while the steady beat of his heart comforted her in a way she hadn’t experienced in like...forever. The tension from moments ago—gone. Even though she was exhausted enough to sleep a week, Connie still couldn’t seem to shut down her brain.

“Tell me about your family,” she said suddenly.

Trace turned toward her slightly and she lifted up, but he kept her in place with a large hand on her hip.

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Nowhere. I thought maybe I was getting too heavy and you needed to move.”

His deep chuckle rattled inside his chest. “Sweetheart, as tiny as you are, no one could ever accuse you of being too heavy.”

Connie didn’t tell him that her father used to call her Tiny when she was a kid. It was funny that she hadn’t thought about that in years. She’d been a daddy’s girl until she was around eight, but then everything had changed as her parents’ relationship started deteriorating.

It didn’t take a psychologist for Connie to know that the broken bond between her and her father had a lot to do with her hesitance to trust and allow herself to depend on men. But the more time she spent with Trace, he was showing her that all men weren’t the same in that regard. Some could be trusted and counted on to be there when you needed them.

“What do you want to know about my family?” Trace asked.

“Anything you want to share. Maybe tell me how it was, growing up with so many kids in the house.”

“It’s only four of us, even though with my sister it felt more like eight. She’s three years younger than me and was always getting into something. Which was probably good because she kept my dad on his toes. After my mother died, I remember how lost he seemed. He used to say that Mom was the backbone of the family.”

“How did she die?”

“A blood clot in her lungs.”

Connie’s heart thudded against her chest. “Oh, my God. Trace, I am so sorry. That had to be awful.”

“Yeah...but it was a long time ago. I was seven when she died. Old enough to remember her, but not old enough to remember many details. Like how she wore her hair, or what her favorite color was, or what she smelled like. What I do remember is that my dad had to work a lot to keep the household going. My oldest brother pitched in with raising us, but we all had to do our part.”

Still cradled in his arm, Connie glanced up at him. She was awed by the man Trace had become, despite losing his mother at such a young age. And the fact that he was sharing something so personal about his life only added to her attraction to him.

“Since you enjoy cooking, was that one of your responsibilities?”

Trace smiled. “Actually, I do remember my mother calling me her sous-chef, even though I didn’t know what it meant back then. I always wondered if she knew that she was going to die young. She taught each of us different chores, everything from cooking to laundry. After she died, it was like we each were responsible for taking care of things in those areas. Except for my sister.” He chuckled. “She was still young, which is probably why she was a wild child growing up.”

Connie yawned, exhaustion seeping in even deeper. “You’ll have to share some of her shenanigans one day.”

“I will. Hopefully, you’ll get to meet all of them in the near future.”

“I look forward to it.” She had already met one of his brothers, Langston, the FBI agent, who had stopped by the office a few months ago to drop off something for Trace.

“Now, what about you? Tell me about your family.”

“Not much to tell. Erica and I are real tight, but we aren’t... Well, I’m not that close with my parents.”

A heaviness settled in her heart at having to admit that to him, but it was true. Her parents might’ve raised and provided for her, but them arguing all the time and then ultimately splitting up had created a wedge between them that Connie wasn’t sure how to fix.

“They divorced when I was a kid, but the last couple of years they were together weighed heavy on our family. My dad cheated on my mother, and our lives were never the same. When my sister and I were old enough to understand, he claimed he had only stepped out on my mother once. Still, my feelings about him didn’t change. He cheated, plain and simple. I never could wrap my brain around that. I’ll admit, my mother wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but still. How is it that men cheat and think nothing of it?”

“Not all men step out on their women, Connie. I hope you know that.”

In her head, she knew it, but in her heart, she always feared that a man would one day cheat on her. Which was probably why she never let a relationship get that far, except for with Quincy.

“Did someone cheat on you? Is that why you won’t give you and I a chance?”

Connie stared at the television without really watching the show. Only Erica and Trinity knew about her dating fiascoes, and Connie wasn’t proud of the way she’d handled some situations.

“No one cheated. At least as far as I know, but one did betray me in a way that I still struggle to forgive.”

“What did he do to you?”

“He stole my job.”

Trace turned fully onto his side. Connie didn’t make eye contact, but she could feel the intensity of his stare. “How?”

“I landed a job as an analyst a few years before I joined Trinity at LEPA. Quincy, the guy I was dating at the time, worked for the same company. He actually reported to me.”

“I assume this story has something to do with why you don’t date coworkers now.”

“It has everything to do with that rule. Anyway, he and I were together for almost a year before getting engaged.”

“Engaged?”

“Yep. Which was probably why his betrayal hurt so much. I was interested in the director’s position. I had experience. I had been with the company for five years, and I had a ton of ideas. Ideas that I had planned to implement if I landed the job. My supervisor told me about the position even before it had been posted.

“I shared that information with Quincy. Hell, I shared everything with him. My life dreams, work ideas, secrets—you name it, he knew every damn thing about me, including my weaknesses,” Connie said from between gritted teeth.

Trace ran his hand up and down her hip as she pulled herself together. She hadn’t realized how loud she had gotten, but every time she thought about Quincy, she wanted to scream. Or punch something.

“I was in love for the first time in my life,” Connie continued.

The sudden bout of anger simmering in her gut was quickly building up steam. She and Quincy had happened so many years ago, but discussing him was bringing back those bad memories.

“I trusted him. I never knew I was capable of trusting until he came along. I also never knew that I could hate someone as much as I hated him after what he did to me. I vowed ‘never again.’ Never would I allow myself to be that vulnerable.”

“What exactly happened?”

“Once the job was posted, I applied. I never knew Quincy was even interested in the position or that he had applied for it. At least not until he got the job.”

“Wait. You didn’t know he interviewed for the position?”

“Nope. I didn’t know anything. It worked out that I was traveling for the company and had been on the road a few weeks. I even had my interview over the telephone. Not once did Quincy mention anything about him or the position, and it wasn’t like management shared who all had applied.”

“Damn. That had to be awkward once you did find out.”

“Let’s just say that he’s probably still trying to put a new wardrobe together.”

Trace chuckled.

Connie could laugh at the situation now, but back then, she had been livid, hurt and devastated. She never knew she could get so angry or could hate someone so much. She and Quincy had been living together at the time, and she was glad the apartment had only been in his name. After destroying all his clothes and a few of his personal items, she packed her stuff and moved out.

“So because of that asshole, you won’t give another brother a chance,” Trace said. “If I ever run into the guy, I’m kickin’ his ass.”

Connie smiled at the conviction in his statement. “Don’t. It was a long time ago, and he’s not worth you ending up in jail.”

“Yeah, but it would feel good to do some damage to his face for hurting you.”

Connie yawned again and her eyes grew heavy. “And I probably wouldn’t stop you.”

It warmed her heart, knowing that Trace would come to her rescue and help fight her battles if needed. He was such a sweetheart, and Connie loved having him in her life. What if she allowed him to get closer? Would he continue being the amazing man he was proving to be? Or would he turn into another Quincy—just out to get what he could get from her?