by Lindsey Hart
“That he definitely is. See, Jay, I told you karma is a thing. I’ve been a nice person all my life. Being nice is way better than being attractive, which you think is the only thing that counts. I definitely thought Trace was hot. I mean, I have eyes. That wasn’t the only reason I messaged him. Despite the fact that he did have an amazing profile name and the fact that he really does look like he’d be a good villain, there are other aspects of attraction. He’s smart and funny. He’s kind and selfless. He wasn’t feeling well, but he still came tonight, and he didn’t even tell me. I had to pry it out of him. He probably let you win half those games we played earlier-”
“No, I really didn’t,” Trace interrupted. He didn’t just feel it, he knew he was flushed. And he’d never, ever, blushed before. Not that he could remember, at any rate.
Ash went right on ahead, ignoring him. “You might have had a lot of dates, Jay. Women might find you attractive, but when was the last time one of them came back for dinner? I bet you probably don’t even think to ask because that’s beyond you right now. That’s okay, for the time being, but one day, you’ll want something more and you’ll realize that being good looking or being uh- skilled in- well- you know- will only get you so far. An actual real woman wants a guy who will have her back no matter what. And even endure a family dinner with an obnoxious brother.”
Silence. Dead utter silence filled up the room.
Finally, Ash’s dad cleared his throat. “On that note, I think I’ll excuse myself. I have some reading to get back to.”
Jason shrugged, pushed his plate forward, and asked for a second helping of pie. Ash settled in beside him and gripped his hand like she wasn’t ever going to let go. And for some really crazy reason, that was just fine with him. Her mother gave Jason a second piece of pie then went into full on mother mode, offering him a container of frozen homemade chicken noodle soup or any one of the medicines in the kitchen cupboard. She buzzed around making him a care package to take with him.
Which was just about the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.
He sat through it all, Ash beside him, her fingers entangled in his in silent support, wishing it was real.
Wishing that he was really her boyfriend. If he had a say in it- and he planned on it- he was going to convince her that they could do this. That they could be something real. He wasn’t going to let her get away.
When Ash’s mother presented him with a huge baggie of food, including that chicken soup after Ash started mumbling about having to get back home and get some sleep before the reunion, Trace accepted it gratefully.
He was glad that after a round of hugs, which included not just another handshake but a real bro hug from Jason, he was thankful she had her back to him as she walked to the car.
He may have had something in his eye that he needed to take care of. And no, it wasn’t dust.
It was official. He’d just handed in his man card.
And damn, it felt good.
CHAPTER 13
Ash
“Thank god, we got through it.” Ash allowed a small smile to play over her lips. She turned to Trace, who looked more than a little exhausted in the passenger seat beside her.
“It wasn’t that bad,” he protested, and she had the strange notion that he wasn’t just trying to be a good sport. That he really meant it.
“So…” she pulled up in front of her apartment. Trace’s sports car was parked on the street. She’d protested against taking it to her parent’s, because she didn’t want them to ask questions. She knew for a fact her dad and probably her mom would lecture her about getting into what they termed a death trap. It was just easier to take her old, ugly, family sedan. “Do you want to come in for a bit? I know that you’re not feeling well, so it’s alright if you don’t.” At Trace’s sidelong look, she quickly tacked on, “it’s not for sexual favors. I just wanted to talk a little about the reunion tomorrow.”
“Right. Of course.” Trace opened the door and unfurled himself out of the car. It was still easier to get out of than his low ass sports car. He waited until they were standing in front of her door to lean in. “Are you sure we can’t just skip the talk and go for the sexual favors after all?”
Ash’s body reacted like it always did to Trace. As her brother pointed out, asshole that he was, Trace was gorgeous. He was sexy in a way that she couldn’t even explain. On a whole different level than any man she’d met before. Probably because, like she’d also told her brother, he was sweet. He was genuinely a good person. He didn’t have to, but he made an effort for her. Like they were actually in a real relationship and he cared about her. Like he wasn’t just trying to give her a boost of confidence for the reunion by sleeping with her and awakening her inner goddess. Inner goddess- his words, not mine.
Ash fumbled with the key and eventually got the lock to turn. She thrust open the door, body tingling and on fire, panties long past being soaked, breathing sharp and fast, heart pummeling her ribs, and all that good stuff that she’d come to acquaint with Trace and his proximity and his dirty words and his mouth and his hands...
“Uh- no.” She had to remain firm. She took the plastic bag her mom packed and put it into the fridge. “Definitely not. For starters, you’re not feeling well.”
“I feel well enough.”
“Nope. No way. You got through dinner with my family. I think that’s enough of a selfless act for one night.”
Trace rolled his eyes. “You just don’t want to be distracted. You want to have that talk about the reunion, even though you’re going to be amazing.”
Ash shook her head. “Nope. Not having this conversation. Now, get into bed. We can talk about it in there so you can finally lay down and take a break.”
“Oh. Bed. Maybe you do want to discuss sexual favors after all.”
She grumbled under her breath, but she couldn’t help but smile. I could get used to this. That was the scary part. Trace wasn’t permanent. He’d agreed to help her because he was a nice guy. A good guy. Maybe even because for some crazy reason, he found her attractive and liked having sex with her. What they were doing wasn’t a real relationship and it wasn’t permanent.
She had no idea what an actual relationship meant. She didn’t even know if she wanted to. She had a life. She had her writing. She had her romance to keep her busy. She had a job. She had her family. She was happy before she met Trace and she’d be happy after.
Still, as she followed him into her bedroom, watched him greet Slappy, who didn’t bother to unfurl out of his tight little cat ball, pull back the blankets and slide into her bed, a sharp pang hit her right in the chest. She’d say right in the feels, but that saying always sounded so stupid. She did reach up and rub the spot, right over her heart, where the pain emanated from. Go figure, it didn’t exactly diminish.
Trace stared up at her. “You look like you’re thinking too hard.” He patted the spot beside him on the bed. “Come on. Slide in here and let me make you feel good. You’re wound up so tight it looks like you’re literally going to come undone at the seams.”
“No way. Not like that.”
“Well, we can cuddle, can’t we? I promise not to get too close and spread my disease all over you. It would be a shame if you were too sick to go to your reunion tomorrow.”
She rolled her eyes as she pulled back the sheets. “Yeah. A real shame. Maybe I should get you a paper bag and you should breathe into it and then I’ll inhale it all. Maybe we should have a really long make out session where we swap enough spit to drown a small country.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“I was kidding. And not because I want to get sick.” She slid in beside him. As she leaned in, threw her arm over him and rested her head against the solid wall of his chest right above his heartbeat, her tongue felt too thick for words.
Trace waited patiently while Ash tried to gather enough of her scattered wits to actually form language. Right when she opened her mouth, he smoothed his hand over her
hair. He dug in at the end, pulling her elastic free and spilling her long hair out of the bun she’d worked it into. He made a noise low in his throat, something smoky and sensual and deep, while he caressed her hair. He dug his fingers in at the end, massaging her scalp gently. She nearly whimpered, it felt so good.
“I had a good time tonight.”
Lord, was there anything more sexy than a guy saying he had a good time enduring her family? Especially Jason? He was just the worst. She knew he’d bug her unmercifully, but poor Trace had to sit through it.
“Really? You don’t have to say that. I would totally understand if you told me that my family was nuts and that your faith in humanity was severely rocked by meeting them.”
He laughed, that deep rumble that she loved so much. His chest vibrated beneath her cheek. “No, they were nice. Your dad is funny. He tries anything he can do to keep the peace. I think he’s embarrassed by how you guys talk to each other, but he gives you space, since you are adults and he obviously loves you and thinks the world of you and gets that you’re brother and sister and you’re going to have that sibling rivalry your whole life because you’re close to each other. Your mom is amazing. She’s nice. Even if she harps on you to be with someone, she’s probably just worried about you being lonely. She obviously cares. And she sent me home with a get better soon package. That’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. Your brother is- well- he’s your brother. Why do brothers exist if not to drive their sisters crazy? I’ve asked my sister this a hundred times myself, so I get it. Although, I would never bug her like that in front of anyone.”
Ash had to giggle. “Yeah, I know. Jason is crazy. He does it on purpose. He’s always been crude like that. It’s our brand of humor. He only turns it on thick when we’re with our parents. If we were out by yourselves it probably would have been different. Although, maybe not. He knows it drives my mom crazy.”
“It sounds like you enjoy it a little bit too.”
Ash flushed. “I do. I can’t help myself. Sometimes it’s just nice to unwind and be extremely politically incorrect. I’m actually surprised Jason said you did another workout in the evening at your home gym when he was talking about a day in the life of Trace.” She grinned against the soft cotton of Trace’s shirt. “I could tell what he actually wanted to say was that you get your workout in with me. I can’t believe he didn’t go there. I thought for sure he was going to do it.”
“He must have seen your dad melting on the spot and taken pity on him.”
“Probably. My dad is so mild mannered. He’s nice. He loves us a lot. We were his whole life when we were growing up. I mean, my mom too. They actually still love each other. Even though they’ve been married for like, thirty-two years now, they still make it work. And I know they don’t just tolerate each other. I can tell by the way they look at each other that they’re still in love.”
There was a pause and Ash realized what she’d said. She wished she could take it back, in a way. Another part of her wasn’t sorry at all.
“Do you believe in love? I mean, love like that?” Trace smoothed his fingers through her hair again. She should be talking about their plan for the reunion tomorrow, but she couldn’t bring herself to start. It just felt so good, what Trace was doing with her hair. They were fully clothed, yet what they were doing was somehow far more intimate than anything they’d done so far.
Ash wanted to answer, but it was hard for her to force words past her jammed up throat. Sudden tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I…” she’d never had so much trouble just trying to form words. “I- I don’t know,” she finally said. Thankfully, her tongue unglued. “I write romances and stuff, but I don’t know about real life. It’s different. It’s more complicated. A romance is just a snapshot in time. It has a plot. We don’t get to see any more than that and we just hope for the best after. I- my parents made it work, but I think that’s pretty rare now.”
“Yeah.” Trace’s voice sounded so much further away than the mere inches his mouth was from her ear. “I know. Honestly, if I could, I’d buy my own island and take my love to grow old there. It would be like one of your romances. That’s probably wishful thinking, though, since it’s hard to imagine people actually growing old together. It’s a nice sentiment.”
“A nice sentiment,” Ash breathed. “I like that. Maybe I’ll write that into one of my own books.”
“I still haven’t looked one up and read it yet. Although, I should. Has your brother?”
“Please don’t! I’d make you promise you wouldn’t read it, but that sounds too extreme and I know it will probably just have the opposite effect. And my brother… oh my god I hope not. He says he’d never read anything I wrote, especially about romance, because it’s too disgusting. I really hope that he meant it.” The thought honestly made her want to panic. She remembered her family’s horror when she published her first book. They’d quickly grown accustomed to the fact that she wrote explicit romance and just got over and on with it. It wasn’t like she was famous or anything.
“I bet even if your brother hasn’t read it, since it’s probably not his thing, but I am willing to put my money on him using it to get with someone else. I’m sure he’s dropped your name a couple times. Men probably don’t know who you are, but women- that’s entirely possible.”
Ash shivered. “Oh gross. I don’t want to think about my brother using me to get laid in any capacity.” She made a gagging noise. “Totally gross.”
“I think it’s hot that you write romance. I think it’s hot that you’re a writer period. I especially think it’s hot that you work at a comic book store and that you and your brother are complete nerd ass kicking geeks when it comes to board games.”
“If you think that’s good, you should see us when it comes to trivia.”
Trace laughed softly and her head moved up and down with the rumble. Ash smiled to herself. It felt so good to have Trace’s hand in her hair, massaging her scalp, the warmth of his body pressed into her, solid and comforting and real, that she’d forgotten all about the stupid reunion.
“One day. You’ll have to take me to your next trivia night or whatever.”
Ash closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about there not being a whatever or a whenever. Her chest filled up with that painful twisting again. For one more night, she wouldn’t go there. She didn’t want to ruin what she felt at the moment, which was, crazy enough, perfectly at peace, so she shut her mouth and pushed the yawning void of doubt off into a not so distant future. There was plenty of time for worrying.
At the moment, Trace’s hand just felt really, really, amazing in her hair and the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear was absolute enchanting perfection. She had no reason to open her eyes, so she kept them closed for just a minute more.
Just one more minute like that, with him, at peace, and she’d be ready to let the real world in again. Just one more minute… just one…
CHAPTER 14
Trace
The first early rays of dawn were just starting to filter into the bedroom when Trace cracked an eye. He realized, first, that he wasn’t at his house. It was obvious, since the hairy body of a cat was currently perched on the pillow. That big, warm, fuzzy body overflowed onto his forehead and the purring was probably what woke him up.
Okay, so someone probably wants their breakfast.
He remembered Ash falling asleep last night. She must have been exhausted. She looked so peaceful there in his arms that when she drifted off, he didn’t wake her. Beyond worn out himself, body aching and his heart doing all sorts of crazy things, going to war with his mind and what was supposed to be common sense, he’d closed his eyes and that was it. Lights out.
Ash was still draped over him, her arm flung out, her head on his chest right above his heart. She slept soundly, her shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath. She was beautiful, her flawless skin hued golden by the sun’s rays. Her dark hair spilled out over him and the b
ed and her lips were pushed up into a sexy sleepy pout.
He could tell that it was early. He wasn’t in a panic to wake her, even though they hadn’t discussed their game plan for the reunion. He knew Ash would be fine. She just had to have faith in herself. All that easy confidence from the night before, when she was comfortable with her family, and the courage she’d shown in messaging him, the force that she was, a woman who chose to live her life on her terms and was proud of it, she just needed to channel all of that.
If not, he’d be there to kick whosever ass he had to kick.
That was the game plan.
He smiled like a fool. It didn’t even occur to him that after the reunion she’d really have no need of him. She might have sent him a message about a plea for a fake boyfriend, but there was nothing fake about his desire to be with her.
His arm tightened around Ash’s dainty shoulders and held her closer. She didn’t stir. She was his. He’d known it from the second he walked into that coffee shop and saw her sitting there, with two paper cups, because she’d ordered for him. Hell, he probably knew it right after he’d read her message. It just got better. Every single minute that he spent with her just reinforced in his mind how much he didn’t want to let her go.
Trace savored the time he had with her, those stolen minutes. He promised himself that he’d remember them forever, no matter what came after the reunion, and he didn’t care one bit that it sounded cheesy as fuck, even in his own head.
As the sun’s rays grew stronger and warmer, he knew he had to wake her.
She’d asked him the night before if he believed in a love like her parents’ had. He hadn’t before. He’d very much doubted that he’d ever find someone who could see him for himself. Then he met Ash, and right from the start, he was just Trace. She’d given him her friendship, her unguarded moments, her care, her worry, her family. She gave him everything he wanted and didn’t know was possible and didn’t dare hope for.
