by Natalie Ann
The music got louder, the closer he drew to the propped open entrance door. People spilled onto the sidewalk like ants, milling around in groups of three or four, laughing and talking and passing around cigarettes—at least he hoped they were cigarettes.
“Hey, Trace, socializing with the riff-raff?”
Trace squinted to see the owner of the familiar voice. “Liz, is that you?”
The tall blonde separated herself from the throng and waved. “It’s been a long week, time to unwind.”
Amen to that. Trace nodded. “I’m sorry about the burglary, Liz. I hadn’t heard until the other day. Did they catch the culprit?”
“Not yet.” She sighed. “I’m not holding out much hope. Mona Samuels is working on organizing a community crime watch. We’re having a meeting next week. Maybe it will help.”
He should have thought of that. It was his job as mayor to coordinate with law enforcement to solve criminal concerns. “I’m glad Mona has a handle on the issue. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do. I heard the damage to your flower shop was quite extensive.”
“Yes. Thank goodness for insurance though, right?” She smiled and embraced his arm. “Buy me a drink?”
The warm weight of her breast pressing into his arm should have spiked his interest, but for some reason he only felt uncomfortable. What was the matter with him?
“Sure,” he said, unwinding from her grasp on the pretext of holding the door for her to enter the dark bar. Mood lights were spaced out along the walls in between giant speakers blaring music from the band performing on a narrow stage at the far end of the room. Couples gyrated on the floor in a facsimile of the dance moves he’d learned in grade school. Tables and booths filled to overflowing took up the rest of the space with a long bar that ran the length of the back wall.
He looked around, but it was almost impossible to pick Jacob out of this crowd. He’d send his buddy a text after a quick cocktail with Liz. He nodded toward a table newly vacated and she smiled her agreement. A server met them as they arrived and efficiently cleared glasses and wiped the tabletop down all while holding a tray full of heavy looking bottles and drinks at shoulder height with her other hand.
“What can I get you?” she asked, making room on the tray for the dirties.
“I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap,” Trace said, admiring her balancing skills. “What about you, Liz?”
“Same thing, thanks.” She smiled at the woman, then turned her attention to the band. “They’re good,” she yelled, tapping her toes to the beat. She slid Trace a flirty glance. “Do you dance?”
“Not well,” he lied. “Go ahead though, I don’t mind.”
She laughed. “You aren’t getting rid of me that fast. So tell me, Trace Michaels, what brings you out on a Friday night?”
Good question. One he didn’t have an answer for anymore. This wasn’t his scene. He preferred quiet background music and a romantic setting for a date—not that this was one. Liz seemed like a nice woman, and maybe if he wasn’t hooked on Mona…
“Oh, oh. I know that look,” she murmured. “You’re already taken, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky lady?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
“Ah, ha, that’s what they all say, honey. You better tell her how you feel before it’s too late.” She paused and tipped her head. “Is she a local girl?”
He reluctantly nodded. Liz deserved that much from him. “We used to go out—a long time ago.”
“You did? Wait. Wait, is it… Mona?” Her voice climbed a couple of octaves, her lips curving into a pleased smirk.
Trace scrunched his shoulders and glanced around to make sure no one was listened. “Shh, I don’t need it to be a public announcement,” he muttered.
“Sorry, but after the hell that ex-wife gave you and the rumors she’s spreading, you deserve a little happiness.” Liz took a sip of the foamy beer the server dropped off on her way to the next table and nodded her satisfaction. “This is good, try it.”
He ignored her request, focused instead on her previous words. “What rumor? I haven’t heard anything.”
She swept her hair over her shoulder and gave him a look. “Not surprising. You’re kind of busy running our town, aren’t you?” She frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. You know how these things are, it’ll blow over.”
Trace reached for her hand, cool from cradling the frosted glass mug. “Tell me, Liz.”
She stared at him, then pulled her hand away, folding it into her lap. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She glanced around, then leaned over the table and lowered her voice. “Rumor is Amber is your daughter, Trace.”
***
Once they arrived home, Mona made sure Bailey wasn’t physically injured before sending her off for a warm bath while she made tea with honey and set out a plate of banana bread and oatmeal cookies. Sometimes, comfort food helped where words couldn’t.
“I’m worried about her, Mom.” Amber leaned against the kitchen counter and watched the kettle heating on the stove, her gaze pensive.
Mona stopped her needless fidgeting with the dessert plate to embrace her daughter. “I know, me too. But she’ll be okay. We’ll take good care of her now.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the Organza perfume Amber had taken to wearing and thanked the Almighty for keeping the girls safe. Bailey could have been seriously hurt tonight. As it was, the psychological effects of what she’d been through would probably weigh on her for a long time to come. They would have to talk later, after she calmed down and her father was here.
Trace. He was bound to flip a gasket when he found out. The more she thought about it, the more Mona became convinced she should tell him face-to-face. It wasn’t the sort of news she wanted to impart over the phone.
The kettle whistled and she released Amber to turn off the heat and pour the boiling water into the porcelain teapot she’d found at a yard sale one summer. “Tea’s ready. I’m going to check on Bailey and then leave you girls to it while I drive over to her dad’s house to deliver the news. Will you be okay until I get back?”
“Sure. Maybe we’ll watch a movie, or something.” Amber picked at the edge of a cookie. “Mom? Thanks for helping tonight. I wouldn’t have handled it so well on my own.”
Mona’s throat grew tight. “I think you might have surprised yourself, but I’m glad I was there. I love you, you know.”
She grinned. “Me too.”
“Brat.” Mona laughed and headed upstairs, the smile fading the closer she came to the bathroom door. She stared at it for a few seconds before knocking—trying, without success, to come up with words to heal some of the pain that poor child was going through. In the end, she decided to stay pragmatic.
“Tea and cookies in the kitchen. You have five minutes, missy.”
“Okay,” Bailey called, her voice only slightly wobbly.
Mona pressed a hand to the wood. She remembered the emotional turmoil of her own teenage years and knew time was the best remedy.
She returned downstairs, grabbed her keys from where she’d left them, and stepped outside. Stars peeked between the clouds like a beacon of hope and her traitorous heart raced at the prospect of seeing Trace.
She made the drive to his house in a quiet panic. Now that the time was near, she didn’t know how to break the news. Whatever she said, he’d be furious. Somehow, she had to convince him to calm down and think before doing anything he might regret. Bailey needed him.
The windows were dark, and his car was missing from the driveway. She hadn’t considered he might be out. Just because she had no life, didn’t mean everyone spent their Friday nights at home eating popcorn and watching old movies. What if he was on a date? She didn’t want to get caught sitting in front of his home like a peeping Susie, awkward wouldn’t begin to cover that scenario. Yet, she needed to talk to him. She pulled the cellphone from the rear pocket of her jeans, her finger hovering over th
e keypad as she stared at his home. Maybe Jacob knew something. She dialed his number and waited impatiently for her brother to pick up.
“Yeah,” he shouted into the speaker, making her jump. Music blasted the cab of her car, along with the sound of pool balls clacking together and people laughing. A bar? Jacob wasn’t really the bar type—especially after losing his wife to a drunk driver.
“Jake? Where are you?” She found herself shouting back and cringed, imagining the phone up to his ear.
“The Blue Cup,” he answered in a more normal tone, the sound muting as he moved away from the crowd. “I was supposed to meet Trace here for a beer, but this place is a madhouse tonight. I haven’t found him yet.”
“Are you sure he didn’t stand you up?” She set the phone in its cradle and started her car.
“He’s here, or at least his vehicle is. What do you need?” His voice was clear now. He must have gone outside.
“I need to talk to Trace. Bailey got into a bit of trouble tonight.” Mona pulled out and headed downtown. She hadn’t been to the new pub yet, but heard it was a popular hangout for the millennial crowd. Liz had invited her to a girls’ night out a couple of times, but she’d put it off. Maybe she should go. It sounded as though Trace got out often enough. She ignored the hot flare in her chest to make the turn onto Wharf Street. Even from a distance she could see where the bar was by the cars parked along the street.
“I’m just pulling up, wait for me.”
“Yeah, sure, but then I’m heading home. I don’t like to leave Josie and Jane alone for too long,” Jacob warned before clicking off.
If only she could meet someone like her brother, Mona reflected as she searched for a place to park. He was one in a million.
A little red sports car pulled out, and with a bit of maneuvering she managed to wrangle her beast into the stall. She shut off the engine and opened her door, then hesitated, pulling down the visor to check out her face in the compact mirror. Well, she wasn’t about to win any beauty contests, that’s for sure. She pinched her cheeks for color and bit her lips lightly, then sighed and climbed out of the car. She wasn’t here to go on a manhunt anyway.
Jacob paced the sidewalk near the front entry and looked up as she approached. “Is Bailey hurt?”
Trust her brother to zero in on the important stuff. “No, just shook up. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, after I talk to Trace. Any chance you could do a walkthrough with me?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t let you go in there alone. What do you take me for?” He turned and led the way, his wide shoulders bulldozing a path through the congested entry. “We’ll stick together,” he said over his shoulder as the noise hit them in the face. “It’s safer that way.”
She smiled her gratitude and stuck close to his back as they navigated the room, looking for a familiar blond head. They were almost to the bar when she saw him leaning over a two-seater table talking intently to a woman—Liz.
She stumbled to a halt while Jacob forged ahead, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder to break up the tête-à-tête. Trace looked annoyed until he realized who it was, then he smiled and rose to clasp Jacob’s hand. When he turned to introduce his date, he noticed Mona and froze. Funny, she couldn’t move either.
He looked good—great, really in a pair of dockers and a button-down shirt in powder blue. She’d expected him to be somewhat embarrassed, considering their past, but she didn’t expect the raw anger blazing out of his eyes.
Liz turned to see who he was staring at and a guilty expression chased across her face before she, too, rose and hurried to greet her. “Mona, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. This isn’t what it looks like,” she added in a near-whisper.
Mona forced a shrug though she felt like a glass that might shatter at any moment. “He’s a free man. He can go out with whoever he wants.”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said urgently, then went quiet as Trace came up behind her.
“Outside. Now.” He took her arm and forcibly turned her toward the door.
“Hey, what the hell, man?” Jacob yelled after them.
“Stay out of my way,” Trace ordered. “Your sister and I have some… catching up to do.”
The way he said it made Mona’s blood run cold.
He knew.
That was the only possible explanation. She didn’t know how he’d found out, but Trace knew he was Amber’s father. She’d dreaded this day for eighteen years and now that it was here a strange sort of calm—almost relief—came over her. No more hiding from the truth. She only hoped when the dust settled, she’d be able to pick up the pieces of her tattered life.
Chapter Fourteen
The betrayal cut deep. Trace had a hard time controlling the urge to shake Mona until the truth came out of her lying lips. All these years… It didn’t even bear thinking about. She’d taken his daughter away from him. How could she do that to him? To Amber?
“Trace, please. I can explain.” Mona tugged ineffectively against the grip he had on her arm. “You’re hurting me.”
He stopped walking so fast she plowed into his back. He turned on her, rage taking over like a hungry beast. “That’s rich coming from you. She’s seventeen fricking years old. Were you ever going to tell me?”
She flinched, the guilt in her eyes turning his stomach.
“You weren’t, were you?” He shook his head, a harsh laugh scratching his throat raw. “Well, at least I know where I stand with you.”
“People are looking. Can you quit shouting, please?” She made another effort to get free, and he yanked her up against his chest.
“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?” He glanced around and realized she was right, they were creating a scene. He turned back to her, staring at the woman he’d thought different from the others—someone he could see in his life. She looked as miserable as he felt.
He opened his hands and let her go. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I… I need to—” Mona rubbed her arm where he’d held her and shivered. “Wh… where do you want to go?”
He was still mad as hell, but guilt roiled around in his gut, too. He’d never hurt a woman before. It didn’t make him proud for doing it now. If only she’d told him the truth. What did she think he would have done, fought for custody? They’d been kids. He certainly hadn’t been in a place to raise a daughter—not then anyway. He’d deserved the right to know, though. And he deserved an explanation now.
“My place. Unless you’re scared?” he taunted. She aught to be.
Not his Mona. No, she raised her chin and led the way toward the parked cars. “I’m frightened of letting the ghosts of the past out,” she said. “But, I’m not afraid of you.”
Wish he could say the same. She terrified him. He should hate her for the deception, but now that he was calming down, he could maybe see why she’d done it. Not that it excused the lie, just that it made it easier to bear somehow.
“We’ll take my car.” He pointed toward his SUV. “I’ll bring you back later for yours.” She hesitated, then moved to stand by the passenger door, waiting for him to click the locks. He opened the door for her, aware of the soft rustle of her jeans as she climbed into the cab, then strode around the back to give himself a moment’s privacy to get his head on straight. This wasn’t a date, dammit, and she wasn’t the woman of his dreams. Reality had blown that fantasy apart. He’d have to see where they went from here.
She was shivering harder when he got into the car, so he turned up the heat as soon as he started the engine and reached in the back for his jacket. “Here. Wrap up in this before you catch a cold.” She was wearing one of those thin blouse things women liked so much that did nothing toward protecting the core.
“Thanks,” she whispered, gazing sideways at him with big eyes. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Good question. Because he didn’t like being a dick. He’d never found it accomplished much other than bad feelings.
&nb
sp; He leaned one arm over the steering wheel and turned to face her. She looked like a kid, wrapped up in his jacket like that. Something warm moved through his chest. Okay, so the attraction hadn’t died. Instead, of bringing joy, it just made him sad. He could never trust her again, and without trust they had nothing.
He reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. “I could have fallen hard for you,” he murmured.
She flinched and pulled away, her eyes tearing up. “I guess that means it’s too late for us, then?”
Annoyed with the entire situation, he slammed his palm on the steering wheel. “What do you expect? I can’t just hide this under the carpet and go on about my life, Mona. I want my daughter to know who I am.” A sudden horrible thought came to him. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
Mona’s eyes gleamed in the dark cab. “Of course not. Do you seriously think she would have kept quiet all these years if she did?”
He sat back and stared out the windshield. “Why not? You did.”
“I guess I deserve that.” She sighed. “Have you ever built a snowman? You start with a small, perfect ball, then you roll it and roll it until it turns into this amazing thing you’ve created with your very own hands. But sometimes, the little ball gets away from you. It careens down a hill, gathering momentum, until it smashes into a thousand pieces and there’s no way to put it back together again.” She sat up and turned to him. “That’s what happened to us, Trace. We had something special, didn’t we?”
He couldn’t deny it, he’d fallen hard for Mona. They’d spent hours together, talking and laughing and loving. Until he destroyed her trust. Guess turnabout was fair play.
“Yes,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry for my part in smashing our relationship on the rocks, as per your awful analogy.” He smiled. “But that didn’t give you the right to keep my daughter away from me. From Bailey. My daughter has a sister,” he said with a touch of wonder. As the certainty settled in his gut, his mind jumped to the future. Amber was going to college soon, it was all Bailey could talk about. He needed to find a way for the three of them to spend time as a family before she was out of their lives again—though only temporarily. He wasn’t letting this opportunity slip through his fingers.
