Worth the Risk (Blue Falls #2)

by Stella James

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I lean up and give him a quick kiss as his arms pull me in.

  “I wanted to pick you up,” he says.

  My place isn’t far but the gesture is sweet and I decide that I like sweet Trace just as much as I like demanding, dirty talking Trace. I tell him about my talk with Olive, he’s happy for me and offers to keep me company while I bake. He’s gracious enough to sample as I create and I find that his approval means a great deal to me. Even if it’s over something as silly as a cookie.

  “So where did you learn to bake?” He asks as he swipes another one from the sheet.

  I fill the sink with soapy water and smile when I remember my gran telling me that cleaning up is the worst part about creating new things. She also told me that if you don’t make a proper mess, you’re doing it wrong.

  “I was raised mostly by my gran. I lived with her until she passed away and I was placed in my first foster home at fifteen. I never knew my dad and my mom died of a drug overdose shortly after she dumped me off at her mother’s house, I was three. I don’t have any memories of her anymore but I think about my gran every single day. She loved to spend time in the kitchen and she was always creating something new from scratch.” My memories of her are often bittersweet, but I’m happy to share them with Trace. I think my gran would have liked him.

  “We used to spend hours just messing around with old recipes. She was the one constant in my life and she always went out of her way to make me feel loved and wanted.” I know deep down I’ll always miss her but I also know that I’m fortunate to have had her in my life at all.

  “I’m sorry Sophie,” he says.

  “It’s okay, I’m glad you asked. I’ll always have the memories and being in the kitchen makes me feel close to her,” I dry my hands and begin putting away the dishes.

  He pushes back his chair and comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I lean into him and accept the comfort that such a simple gesture gives me. My gran definitely would have like him.

  Chapter 11

  Trace

  I knock on the broken door that practically hangs off its hinges and brace myself for the wave of resentment that often hits me when I visit my old man. We keep our distance most of the time but I feel obligated to check on him at least once a month to make sure he isn’t dead. There is no love lost between Hank Meyers and me. He was a mean old drunk for most of my childhood and it’s a title that he clings to even now. Sophie and I had Thanksgiving dinner at the Stone’s earlier today but I dropped her off at my place before coming here. She wanted to come with me but I wouldn’t let her. Sophie has been through enough in her life, I’m not going to subject her to Hank’s bitterness. I reminded her that she wanted to go over a few new recipes for Christmas. She was doing more than half of the baking at the café now. Olive was a smart woman and knew talent when she saw it, she had one taste of what Sophie was capable of and offered her the extra responsibility and a pay raise on the spot. It was a cheap move on my part to use her passion against her but if it meant keeping her away from this unpleasant son of a bitch, so be it. We’ve been seeing each other for over two months now and I’m smart enough to know that she’s the best damn thing that has ever happen to me. Hank’s only saving grace is the fact that he no longer shows his face in Mac’s, preferring instead to get rip roaring drunk in the privacy of his own home.

  The door creaks open to reveal a man who looks more and more withered every time I see him. He’s only in his second year of retirement from his job at the lumber yard but he looks at least a decade older than his age.

  “What the hell do you want?” He growls.

  “Just fulfilling my obligation to not let you starve to death,” I hold up the bag of leftovers that Judy insisted I take with me. How is it possible that I share blood with this man?

  He takes the bag from me and peers at its contents.

  “I see you’re still moochin’ off those stuck up snobs.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Have a good night Hank,” I turn and head back to my truck. His voice like rough gravel trails after me.

  “You think you’re better than me boy, well you’re not. You’re gonna be just like me, wait and see!”

  This isn’t the first time he’s sputtered shit like this and it won’t be the last. If this was a year ago, I’d agree with him. But now I have Sophie. She makes me believe that I am better than this. She makes me want to be better than this.

  *

  It starts to snow just as I park my truck and head inside. We’ve already gotten a couple inches and soon the town will be covered. Sophie insists on sleeping at her own place when she has to work the next day, my shift starts later than hers and she doesn’t want to trouble me she says. Now that she’s spending more time in the kitchen she works a regular morning shift which means her day starts at six a.m. I hate that she still walks to work in the morning but she’s stubborn as hell. It makes me crazy. And hard. On her days off she spends the night with me which is where she belongs.

  I ride the elevator up and can already smell whatever she’s been baking before I make it down the hallway. I open the door to find her bent over the counter with a small blow torch in her hand. She looks up at me and smiles. I’ve never been so happy to be home.

  “Hey! How did it go?” She turns off the tool and sets it on the counter before walking to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I pull her close and inhale the scent of lemon and vanilla.

  “It went about as well as it usually does,” I say.

  She leans back, her eyes fill with genuine concern. “Do you really think he’ll never get help?”

  This is a conversation we’ve had several times. I know that my dad’s addiction reminds her of her mother but I also know that Hank doesn’t give a shit about getting better. Sophie is always trying to see the good in people and wondering if she can be helpful to them, but there is nothing she can do for that man.

  “Don’t even go there babe, he’s a lost cause and has been for quite some time. I don’t know how many times Cole’s parents have tried to help him out. The only thing that man is interested in is his government check and the bottles he can buy with it.”

  “I just feel bad, that’s all. But I get what you’re saying, I suppose some people just don’t want to be better.” I know she’s thinking of her mom. She says she doesn’t remember her much but I can tell it hurts her that her mom couldn’t get her shit together. I pull her back into my arms and hold her as long as she needs me to.

  “Thank you,” she says before she turns back to the counter and begins wiping up crumbs. I point to the little cups on the counter.

  “What’s with the fire?”

  “I was toasting the meringue,” she laughs and reaches for one of the tiny desserts. “Open up.”

  I let her feed me and I’m pleasantly surprised at the taste. It’s sweet and light and melts in my mouth. Just like her. I nip her finger before she can pull her hand away. Desire flashes in her eyes and I suddenly have a craving. I dip my finger in the bowl of melted chocolate behind her and run it along the side of her neck. I use my tongue to clean it off of her creamy skin.

  “Mm Trace, what are you doing?” I untie the apron she’s wearing and pull it over her head, followed by her sweater.

  “I’m still hungry Sophie.” I unsnap the clasp of her lacy white bra and add it to the pile before I drop to my knees in front of her and pull down her little black skirt. I unwrap her slowly, like I have all the time in the world. She stands in my kitchen in nothing but a tiny black thong and black nylons that come up to her thighs. She watches as I roll her underwear over her hips and down to her feet. I pick the lace up and bring it to my nose, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Fuck. I’m done with slow. I grab her leg and throw it over my shoulder before running my tongue along the wet seam of her delicious pussy. She moans and brings her hands to the back of my head, holding me in place as I suck her clit into my mouth and push two of my finger
s deep inside her. I have her pinned against the counter, devouring every bit of her that I can reach. I’m so fucking greedy when it comes to her, I won’t be satisfied until she chants my name over and over again and begs me for my cock.

  “Ahh Trace don’t stop, don’t stop!”

  I keep working my fingers in and out of her while I run my tongue along her pink folds, waiting for the words that I need to hear. I suck her swollen clit into my mouth and nibble it gently with my teeth. Her thighs begin to clench around me as I reach one hand up and roughly massage her breast. I want to touch all of her, I want to have all of her. Every second of every day. I’m completely addicted to her taste and the way her soft skin feels under my hands.

  “I need you Trace, I need you inside me, now!”

  Her breathe is short, her hands now frantically trying to pull me up off my knees. I spin her around and bend her over the counter, not bothering to fully undress I free my cock and impale her from behind in one rough thrust. I grab her hips and fuck her hard.

  “Sophie you are fucking heaven, cum for me baby.”

  Her body tenses, her hands grip the surface in front of her while she gives me what I demand. My name is clear amidst her cries of pleasure. I let go of my control and cum hard, returning the favour by repeating her beautiful name over and over until I empty myself completely within her. I pull out and watch my cum drip down her thighs, marking her as mine. She turns around and melts into me, running her fingers along my back. Every time with Sophie is more intense than the last. She’s a siren that draws every part of me near, only she doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it.

  “Mm, I need a shower,” she says lazily against my chest.

  I pick her up gently and she buries herself into me like it’s the safest place she’s ever been as I carry her to the bathroom. I don’t know how to describe the feelings that I have for Sophie. All I know is that I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I’m terrified at the thought of ever existing without her.

  Chapter 12

  Sophie

  I’m standing in front of my closet going over possible outfits that could be worthy of a night club when Mona bursts through my bedroom door.

  “UGH I have NOTHING to wear Deb!” She wails.

  She throws her body onto my bed and sighs dramatically. Ever the damsel. The fact that I’m wearing nothing but my bra and underwear should embarrass one of us, but I learned long ago when I saw Mona in the living room naked for the first time that clothes don’t really matter around here and that she isn’t the least bit aware of boundaries.

  “What do you mean you have nothing to wear? You can’t even close your closet doors it’s so full,” I decide on a dark purple halter top and dark skinny jeans. We are halfway through December which means snow is now a deciding factor when it comes to fashion choices. I dig out my black leather boots and chuck them onto the bed next to the one woman show currently draped across it.

  “Nothing fits. NOTHING. I’ve gained ten pounds since the end of summer. I’m a whale that needs to be shoved off the beach and back into the ocean where I belong.”

  “There has to be something in there that fits you,” I laugh and try to be logical, although Mona is not a fan of logic

  She sits up and picks through the small pile of clothes on the bed.

  “You don’t get it. You with your damn super human metabolism and Kate with her damn height and long limbs and what not. If you gain ten pounds, your tits get bigger. If I gain ten pounds I look like the fat German boy in the Willy Wonka movie. Blaaaagh. I hate everything. I’m not going.”

  “Oh yes you are. This whole girls night was your idea, you can’t bail on it. Kate will be here soon and I’m sure we can find something that will make you look as fabulous as you know you are.”

  “Fine. But no more fucking baking around here,” she says.

  I think about pointing out that she could just stop eating it. But again, that pesky logic is something that Mona has zero use for.

  I’ve been spending most of my free time with Trace which Mona has deemed totally unacceptable. She wants a girls night with “no dicks unless she’s the one getting it.” Her prayers were answered when Amy at work told me about The Astoria doing a trial run on a possible nightclub. One of their conference rooms is apparently really fancy and never gets used because the rental fee is so high. They decided to turn it into a club to see if they could make money that way. As far as I know, the few towns surrounding Blue Falls are even smaller and have nothing of the sort. I imagine Walker Powell is counting on their money too, which is actually really smart. I kept that thought to myself when I told Trace where we were going. He is not a fan of girls’ night. And he definitely isn’t a fan or Mr. Powell.

  Tonight is the first official night that Ice will be open for business. The winter tourists are arriving in steady numbers daily, so the place will likely be packed. Young people in town are pretty excited about it too. Mac’s is great but the dancefloor is small and the music is generally low key country type stuff. The hotel is even offering a free car service to take people to and from the club since it’s located outside of the actual town limits. I have absolutely no complaints about my relationship with Trace but I’m looking forward to having some girl time. It’s just the three of us going tonight, Lily is in her third trimester now and said the only place she wants to be at night is in her bed. I finish getting ready just as Kate arrives. She uses her no nonsense tone to get Mona out of her funk and dressed. Those two need each other in ways that I don’t think they even realize. I call for a car and send Trace a picture before putting on my heavy winter coat. His response is quick.

  Trace: Behave.

  *

  We pull up to The Astoria and shuffle quickly up the front steps and into the main lobby. The club is secluded on the far side of the building away from the front desk and the large bank of elevators. We can hear the faint thumping of music as we get closer to the private coat check. We stand in the short line and get rid of our winter gear before heading inside. It’s already quite busy, the dance floor is full as are most of the small tables surrounding it. It isn’t a huge space, definitely more intimate than a typical night club but everything is very sleek and dark, giving it more of a city vibe than small mountain town. I spot Amy and a couple other people I know. We find a table and order a round of shots at Mona’s insistence before settling with our preferred drinks. We don’t sit long before Beyoncé calls us to the dance floor. We might be a small group but I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Kate fends off more than one set of groping hands although it doesn’t surprise me that men are so drawn to her. She’s tall, blonde, and curvy in all the right places. Her hair is usually pulled back but tonight it flows freely around her shoulders in loose waves and her typical office attire is replaced with leather pants and a tight green tank top. Complete bombshell. Since the minute I met her I haven’t been able to figure out why she is single. I know she dates once in a while but it never seems to go very far. Mona sings along with every song and welcomes the occasional dance partner, losing interest before one song ends and the next one begins. We decide to give our feet a break and head back to the table for another drink when we are stopped short by a slightly drunk, very angry Melissa and a couple of her friends. We’ve crossed paths numerous times in the last couple of months but she’s kept her distance, choosing to spread gossip about me instead. She went as far as to tell Olive that she wouldn’t be surprised if I was stealing from them. Olive told her to piss off and stay the hell out of the café. Trace wanted to confront her and set her straight, I know he feels responsible for how she behaves towards me but I choose to ignore her. People like her are always looking for a confrontation and I’m not interested. Part of me feels bad that she has feelings for Trace that he will never reciprocate but that isn’t my problem, nor is it my fault. And I suspect a rational conversation will never happen between the two of us anyways, so why even worry about it?

&
nbsp; “Oh for the love of God, must we do this now?” Mona shouts above the music.

  “You!” Melissa points at me and sways slightly on her very tall heels. “You’re nothing but a pathetic loser and as soon as Trace realizes it, he’ll be back between my legs,” she slurs.

  I really don’t want to cause a scene and I’m about to suggest we go somewhere private to talk when Mona decides to go a different route.

  “Oh fuck off Melissa. It’s been months and Trace never promised you a damn ring. You were a convenient hole and nothing more, get over that shit before the rest of us die of fucking boredom.”

  The two women with Melissa actually do look bored. I grab Mona’s hand and tug her towards our table, but apparently the conversation isn’t over yet.

  “Don’t even get me started on you, you’re nothing but trash. I’m surprised your father actually stuck around after your whore mother left.”

  Mona whips around at the last word and I swear she’s about to pounce on Melissa and unleash a hell storm of fury. She would have, I’m sure, if Kate didn’t step between the two women.

  “Why don’t we talk about your father Melissa? Last I heard he was selling off chunks of his own land to pay off your credit card debt. And what exactly gives you the authority to call Sophie a loser when you don’t even have a fucking job. Christ, if this shit isn’t clear, let me spell it out. You’re a twenty nine year old woman who lives with her parents and has no job. There’s no man within a twenty mile radius that’s willing to take on your level of crazy and your own friends look like they’d rather eat razor blades than be involved in this whole ordeal. You’re the loser Melissa. You’ve always been the loser.” Kate’s gaze remains fierce before she turns towards Mona and I and gestures to our table.

  “Yeah, well at least I’m not stuck playing the role of best friend to some guy who’d rather join the army than hang around here. Be sure and tell Asher I said hello the next time you send him one of your pathetic little letters. Hopefully he makes it home with both of his fucking legs,” she hisses.