Beautifully Damaged

by Fiore, L. A.

  "Trace, we couldn't possibly."

  When his head lifted with desire and lust burning in his eyes, I knew we could and, in fact, did.

  That night I was having trouble sleeping so I lay there for a while watching the gentle rise and fall of Trace's chest and was happy that his dreams seemed to be untouched by the horrors of his childhood. After an hour of sleeplessness, I decided to make myself some warm milk, climbed from bed, pulled on Trace's t-shirt, and padded down the hall. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I saw a bottle of wine on the counter and opted to have a glass of that instead.

  I took my glass into the living room and settled on the sofa, pulling my legs under me, before looking out the window as my thoughts fired randomly in my brain.

  Trace and his sister were sexually abused as children and the thought of those two precious souls having been violated enraged me in a way that I'd never felt before. Tears filled my eyes thinking of him -- both of them -- as young, helpless children in a situation that they had no control over. In Trace's case, it explained his behavior as an adult: the plethora of single-dated women, the sex, the fighting. Everything that he did in his adult life, he controlled. Never was the control taken from his hands.

  His father got off lightly. He should have been made to suffer the pain and helplessness that he had inflicted on his children. And his mother, what the fuck was her problem? How the hell could a woman bear children and then sit back and allow harm to come to them?

  I wiped my leaking eyes but was thankful that Trace finally was able to share his hell. The fact that it was with me touched me and made me feel a connection to him that no one ever had. Maybe, having spoken of it and facing it, he really would begin to heal.

  It disturbed me that his parents died, were murdered and possibly at the hand of someone close. Was the motive to help the children or was it for personal gain? And his uncle? Was his interest in Trace really to uncover just how much he remembered from that night? We were going to need Uncle Josh after all.

  I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize that Trace had joined me until he was standing right in front of me. Thankfully, he had pulled on his boxer-briefs, though actually it was a bit more of a tease than if he had been standing there naked. My God, he was beautiful: from his wide shoulders, to his muscled chest and six-pack abs, and lower still to that delicious 'v' of muscle that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs and down to his incredible thighs and calves.

  Before I even realized what I was doing I was sitting there fanning myself while taking repeated sips of my wine trying to quench my suddenly parched throat. When I finally managed to lift my eyes to his, it was to see him grinning at me.

  "I'm sorry but you are gorgeous, Trace. Really, I could look at you all day."

  He hunched down just in front of me and reached for my glass to place on the coffee table before he rested his hands on my legs. "I like that you're looking."

  He ran his hands up my legs and under his shirt that I was wearing before lifting it slightly so his fingers could trace the tattoo on my hip. His eyes followed his movements and then locked onto mine. His voice was hoarse when he said, "You have no idea what this does to me: to know that you marked yourself, that you made me a permanent part of you, that you thought me good enough to do so."

  "Trace."

  He touched my lips with his finger before he continued, "I've never had anyone in my life treat me like I was worth anything. I was usually just an annoyance, an amusement or a piece of ass but not a man worthy of respect or love, until you."

  He knelt in front of me and framed my face with his hands before brushing his lips gently over my face in a touch that was both reverent and deeply moving. I felt his lips move against the delicate skin under my jaw when he whispered, "All that I am, Ember, this very damaged and unworthy man, is yours."

  "Trace." He moved back and met my gaze and I knew that, in mine, he could see how much I loved him. Seeing the same emotion looking back at me had tears pricking my eyes as I reached out and ran my hand down his cheek. I savored the feel of him as I silently thanked whatever higher power brought him into my life. "You see yourself through very tainted glasses, Trace, but I see you for you and you are absolutely worthy."

  His mouth covered mine stealing the last of my words as he kissed me with all the emotions burning through him. A little while later he pulled away from me but he didn't seem to want to lose all contact as his thumb reached out and rubbed over my lower lip as his eyes held mine.

  I reached for his hand and pulled him up to join me on the sofa as I shifted to curl myself into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, pressed my lips to his neck and blushed as I saw that I branded him with my love-mark. Trace noticed the color that rose on my cheeks and grinned, a big, wide happy grin.

  "You marked me, Ember, I like it."

  "You've marked me, too, you just can't see it."

  I heard the hitch in his breathing as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against him.

  "The first time I saw this and realized what it was, I was drawn to it and you," I said as I trailed my fingertips over the tattoo on his arm before I looked up to meet his heated gaze. "I know why you chose this and I wish there was a way to go back to erase that part of your past, but the man who lived what you lived through, the one who managed to pull himself from that hell and learned to control his demons instead of allowing them to control him, he's the man with whom I fell in love. I'm big on silver linings and maybe, at the risk of sounding arrogant, that could be yours."

  His palm cradled my cheek as his eyes burned with love before he whispered, "And I am profoundly thankful."

  "We need to look into your parents' deaths, Trace."

  "I know."

  "My uncle is a private investigator and he is very discreet."

  He ran his fingers through my hair and the feel of those strong fingers caressing my scalp almost had me purring.

  "I'll call your dad tomorrow. I need to speak to him anyway."

  I looked up at that. "Why?"

  His grin was positively wicked before he pressed a kiss on my nose. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

  "Really, there are ways to make you talk."

  His eyebrow lifted ever so slightly at that. "How?"

  My fingers dug into his side as I attempted to tickle him but the man wasn't at all ticklish and then he lifted me from his lap and dropped me on my back as a devilish gleam lit his eyes.

  "Oh, love, you shouldn't have done that."

  He was like a Jedi master in tickling. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't catch my breath. When he finally relented and stilled those wicked fingers, I had tears running down my cheeks from laughing so hard. He was looking down at me with a combination of humor and desire.

  "You're all flushed." He reached for the hem of my shirt and started to slowly lift it as his hungry eyes devoured each inch of bare skin he exposed.

  "You're flushed everywhere, Ember, that is so hot."

  And then he was lifting me into his arms and carrying me down the hall.

  I ran my hand over the muscles of his arm, as I batted my lashes at him, before offering rather sweetly, "My, what big muscles you have."

  He looked me right in the eyes when he replied, "That's a very appropriate reference, my dearest Ember, since I fully intend to eat you."

  My jaw dropped as I blushed to my hairline, which had him laughing out loud. His laugh was so wicked and sexy it made my stomach clench hard with desire. His lips brushed over my cheek to my ear before he added, "Until you shatter and my name is chanted like a benediction from your very beautiful mouth."

  The only words that my sexually hazed brain could form were, "Oh. My."

  Chapter Seventeen

  It had been a month since Trace and I had our heart-to-heart and I had still been living at Trent's but Trace asked me if I would move back in with him. I was hesitant but I truly believed that things were different so caution be damned.
He offered to come with me to Trent's to help me pack but I wanted to go alone so I could spend some quality time with Trent.

  "I'll be here when you get back. Call me before you leave and I'll meet you at the curb."

  "Okay, but I'm going to stay for dinner so I'll be a while."

  "I'll be here."

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead and held the cab-door for me. Once I was settled, he closed the door and took a step back from the curb. I turned in my seat as the cab pulled away and saw him still standing there watching me go. Trent was waiting for me when I arrived.

  "Hi, Ember. I can't lie, I'm a bit upset to lose you as a roommate but I'm glad things worked out with Trace."

  "Thank you, Trent, for being so great. I've really enjoyed staying here."

  He reached for my hand and pulled me up the steps towards his apartment. "Come on, let's get you packed."

  "Yeah, and order some Chinese food."

  He turned to look at me from over his shoulder as a grin tugged at his mouth. "Cool."

  Later when I was all packed Trent and I sat on the floor in the living room eating Chinese food and drinking wine -- something we tried to do at least once a week. Trent reached for another egg roll before his eyes found mine.

  "Just because you're moving out doesn't mean we can't do this any more."

  "Agreed. We should continue to make it a weekly deal with one week here and one week at Trace's. What do you say?"

  "Sounds perfect."

  I speared a piece of broccoli before I asked, "What are you going to do about Kelly?"

  "I don't know. I should just move on but I'm really kind of hooked on her. There's a part of me that is hoping she'll call."

  "She has your number?"

  "Yeah."

  "Maybe she will then."

  "How are things with Trace?"

  I placed my plate on the table and reached for my glass. "He shared so much with me, things he's never shared with another, and I understand him so much better now."

  I took a sip of my wine and savored it for a moment before I added, "There was always a part of him I couldn't reach but since he's opened up about his past there are no more walls between us. He's an incredible person and I love him to distraction."

  Trent smiled. "You saw something in him and you held on, Ember. He's lucky that you cared enough to stick."

  "I think I'm the lucky one, Trent. Knowing all that I do about him I get why he closed himself off to others; he needed to for self-preservation. That he saw something in me that made him want to reach out is humbling."

  Trent held his glass up to me as a grin touched his lips. "I'm a sucker for happy endings."

  It was close to twelve when I finally returned to Trace's. As he requested, I called him so, when the cab pulled up in front of the building, he was standing there waiting for me. He opened my door and helped me from the car before he kissed me, hard on the mouth, and then he released me to grab my bags from the cabbie. He paid, and tipped the man, before reaching for my hand and pulling me into the apartment building.

  "Did you have fun with Trent?"

  "I did. We're going to continue our Chinese take-out night once a week: here one week and there one week."

  "That sounds like fun."

  I tugged on his hand so he'd look back at me before I added, "We'd both like it if you'd join us."

  Surprise flashed over his face before he offered rather softly, "I would really like that."

  Trace pushed open the door to his apartment and waited for me to precede him before he followed, closing and locking it. We headed for the bedroom, where Trace dropped the bags by the closet before turning to me.

  "We can unpack tomorrow."

  "Agreed."

  I slipped from my clothes and pulled on one of his t-shirts before I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Trace entered a few minutes later wearing a pair of black, silk pajama-pants. I watched him in the mirror as he added toothpaste to his brush. I continued to watch as he brushed his teeth and he knew that I was watching since he was staring right back. I rinsed my mouth and returned my toothbrush to its stand before I turned to Trace who was just finishing up. He was so beautiful. My eyes were riveted on the play of his chest muscles as he finished getting ready for bed. It was when I moved my eyes up to his that I saw he was watching me with a grin. I blushed, felt as my entire body warmed, and knew the moment that Trace saw it when his grin turned wicked.

  He turned then and looked me right in the eyes.

  "Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to give you to the count of three."

  I blushed harder as I started away from him. I moved to the bedroom but Trace, being Trace, didn't wait for three before he followed after me. I was standing just in front of the bed when he entered the room. I noticed the look of confusion on his face and then I reached for my tee and pulled it up over my head before I whispered, "Three."

  Desire flashed in his eyes before he pounced. He pulled me onto the bed and covered my body with his own.

  "Welcome home, Ember."

  And then he was kissing me and all was right in my world.

  A few nights later Trace and I traveled into the Bronx but he wasn't fighting that night; we were meeting with my uncle. I loved crime dramas and, feeling a bit cloak-and-dagger, we thought it best to be discreet regarding our interests in Charles' past. Since most who attended these fights were only interested in the fighting, it seemed like the perfect place to meet with our PI.

  My Uncle Josh was my mother's brother and about three years before, he and my dad had a huge falling out. I didn't know what they argued about but the outcome of the fight was that my dad refused to see him. I still spoke to my Uncle Josh on the phone but family gatherings stopped. I knew this was hard on my dad, since he loved my Uncle Josh like a brother. He was also the only living relative of my mother's left so for my dad to refuse to speak to him meant that the cause of the fight had to have been very significant.

  Trace gripped my hand firmly in his as we made our way through the mass of people. I couldn't see through the crowds but Trace, being a giant, had no problem at all looking over the others. Before we left, I showed him a picture of my uncle so he knew who he was looking for and when I felt the light pull on my arm, I knew he had found him.

  A few minutes later we reached a clearing in the crowd to a man whose back was to us. He was tall, only a few inches shorter than Trace, with a thick head of brown hair that he wore slightly long so that it brushed the collar of his leather jacket. He was wide in the shoulders and narrow in the hips and he stood there like a man very comfortable in his surroundings. He turned to us and his face was so much like the one in the photos that my dad was forever showing me it caused tears to burn the back of my eyes. He was my uncle and I knew he was my mother's brother but seeing him and seeing her, a woman who I didn't remember but missed my whole life, I couldn't help it when tears started trailing down my cheeks.

  As soon as his blue eyes looked into mine, I found myself pulling from Trace and walking right into his embrace. He held me closely as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He spoke and I could hear the tears that he was trying to hold back.

  "You look so much like your mother."

  "So do you."

  "God, I've missed you, Ember, and that pig-headed father of yours."

  I glanced up as he looked down at me. "Later, I want to know what you fought about that was so important that it was enough to keep us all apart for as long as we've been."

  He smiled as he touched my cheek. "I can tell you that now. I told your father that he needed to move on, date, and marry again so that you would have a woman's influence. I knew he loved my sister but I didn't realize how much until he turned from me -- more interested in holding onto a ghost than truly living. At least that's what I thought at the time."

  "And now?"

  "He loved her -- still does. Having never experienced that kind of love, I don't understand it but I should have respected it."

  I could
n't help the elfin smile that I offered in response before I asked, "Am I sensing a reconciliation in the near future?"

  "Yes."

  "It's about time."

  I pulled from him but kept his hand as I turned to Trace, who was watching me affectionately.

  "Uncle Josh, this is Trace Montgomery my..." I held Trace's tender gaze as I thought of an appropriate word to describe what Trace meant to me "...everything. Trace, my Uncle Josh."

  Trace held my gaze for a moment with an affectionate one of his own before he took a step towards Uncle Josh and extended his hand.

  "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

  "Call me Josh, son. I do believe, based on the look in both of your eyes, the pleasure is mine."

  After they shook hands Uncle Josh eyed Trace for a moment before he said.

  "I've seen you fight -- lightning for hands."

  I was watching Trace and I swear it looked like he blushed. I was pretty sure my uncle saw it, too, since he quickly moved the conversation on to abate Trace's embarrassment.

  "So tell me what is it you need for me to do?"

  A few days later I was at the salon. I was not a fan of getting my hair done since I wasn't very good at the small talk that the stylists liked to engage in but my hair was growing rather shaggy so I had to bite the bullet. Pablo, my stylist, was cutting my locks and talking about his weekend in the Village.

  I only half-listened to him since my thoughts were on the meeting with my uncle. He was in Bellville, Ohio looking into the police reports on Trace's parents' deaths. I read the article in the storage unit and hadn't recognized the last name of the victims but that was because Trace had changed his last name from Stanwyck to Montgomery as another way to sever ties with his past. I feared what my uncle was going to discover and how that discovery was going to impact Trace and his sister since they'd suffered enough in their lives.

  The bell over the door jingled and when I glanced over at the newcomer it was to see as Vivian Michaels walked in. She looked exquisite in her St. John's blue-silk suit and Jimmy Choo ballerina slippers. Her blonde hair was upswept, her makeup perfectly applied and huge sapphires hung from her ears. I was curious as to why she was there since, clearly, she wasn't getting her hair done. In the next second I had my answer as her blue eyes found mine and a smile touched her lips before she walked over to me.