by Fiore, L. A.
"Good night, Trace."
"Sweet dreams, Ember."
And together we drifted off into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I woke to the feeling of being squeezed to death. I was having trouble catching a breath because it felt like steel bands were slowly strangling me. It took a moment for my sleepy brain to wake and for me to realize that I was being crushed by Trace who was once again trapped in a nightmare.
I moved my head and pressed my lips to his tattoo, the one over his heart.
"Trace, love, wake up."
I ran my finger across his brow, down his nose, along his jaw and over his lips.
"Wake up, sweetheart."
I moved then as I pried his arms apart so I could sit up. I noticed my sandals were off which meant Trace must have fallen asleep after me and that thought pulled a smile. I pressed kisses all over his face which eventually had him waking from his nightmare.
"...Ember?" His voice was still hoarse with sleep.
"You were having a bad dream."
His eyes opened as he focused on me and smiled. "I like being awakened like that particularly when you are dressed so beautifully while doing so."
I looked down at myself to see that I wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing and I wasn't at all embarrassed by my nakedness. My eyes turned to his before I asked, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"Trace, you know if you ever want to talk about anything that I'm here, right?"
"I do, I know that."
"...any time, anywhere. Even if I'm working and you have the sudden urge to talk, I will leave work for you. I'm pretty tight with the boss man."
His eyes turned hot as he ran his finger over my nipple turning it into a tight peak. The sensation of what he was doing as he watched himself doing it had my stomach clenching hard with desire.
"You are so beautiful." He moved so fast switching our positions as he pinned me to the bed before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my tattoo. His eyes were wild when his head lifted and then he moved lower down my body before he lifted my legs and draped them over his shoulders. I tried to pull away from him because I was embarrassed but then his lips touched me in the most intimate of kisses which effectively had my eyes rolling up into the back of my head. I lost myself completely to him and his most excellent ministrations.
The following morning, I woke to an empty bed and as I stretched I thought about Trace's nightmare. I wondered what he was dreaming about and I wished that he would talk with me about it. After the nightmare, oh my, I was blushing but oh lordy that had been spectacular. I rolled over as I smiled, closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. Your dad and uncle are going to be here in an hour."
I peeled open my eyes to see Trace standing before me. He had showered because his hair was still wet but he hadn't finished dressing since he had only pulled on a pair of jeans.
"Ember, sweetheart, rise and shine."
"No."
He hunched down next to the bed and grinned. "It looks to me like you need a shower to help wake you up."
And without further adieu, he lifted me up into his arms and carried me to the bathroom.
"Trace, I like sleeping."
"Um," was all he said as he held me in one arm while he worked the shower and tested the water. I took a moment to appreciate the fact that he was holding up all of my weight with only one arm but then he was climbing into the shower with me, jeans and all.
"Trace, what are you doing?"
His grin was so very devilish before he replied, "I'm going to wash your back."
I sat at the kitchen table with a very clean back as a grin pulled at my mouth thinking about Trace's very thorough washing. I could tell from the wicked gleam in his eyes, when he turned to look at me from over his shoulder, that he was thinking about it, too.
"What are you making?"
"A frittata. It's similar to an omelet with meats, vegetables and cheeses blended into the egg mixture."
"That sounds delicious, Trace."
He moved to place the frittata in the oven before he turned to me, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to my neck.
"It is but not as tasty as you, sweet." He licked my neck from my shoulder up to my ear where he nibbled my lobe before he whispered, "Your taste is my most favorite in all the world."
Delicious little chills swept through me and my knees went weak. Luckily, I was already sitting and then the door bell sounded.
"Saved by the bell," he whispered as he pressed a kiss on my neck before he started from the room but my softly spoken declaration stopped him.
"You make me so happy, happier than I ever imagined possible."
He turned and moved back to me before he hunched down and rested his hands on my knees. He spoke with quiet conviction when he said, "...and you are my everything."
He started to lean in to kiss me but the doorbell sounded again. He brushed his lips over mine before he rose. "Rain check, sweetheart."
"Definitely."
He reached for my hand and pulled me up as we walked together to the front door. As soon as Trace opened the door we were greeted to the sight of two very unhappy men.
"Daddy." I whispered as I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. He was practically shaking with rage but when his arms came around me he was so very gentle.
"Emmie, girl." he whispered.
Trace shook my uncle's hand and when I turned to greet my uncle, Trace led my dad into the kitchen where the pictures were still sitting on the counter. Trace and I stood back and watched as the two studied the pictures and when my dad stepped back his reaction to them was much the same as Trace's had been.
"God, damn it."
My eyes moved from my dad to Uncle Josh. "Did you talk with Dr. Cavanaugh and Dr. Grant?"
"Yes."
We settled at the table as Trace plated the frittata and a fruit salad and as we ate my uncle filled us in.
"Obviously, Grant wasn't interested in digging up his past particularly since his actions were unethical. However, after much posturing and repeated promises from me that I didn't give a damn about his actions he admitted to giving Teresa the scripts. As far as Dr. Cavanaugh, apparently Mandy was asking questions regarding the protection of minors and the steps required to involve DHS. I called DHS after my meeting with Dr. Cavanaugh and there was a file opened but before Mandy could give them all the details, she was..."
He didn't finish the sentence but then he didn't need to. I felt the tears but I didn't let them fall because when I looked over at Trace he had that lost look burning in his eyes. My uncle spoke but my eyes stayed on Trace who had lowered his head as he listened.
"I did a little digging and discovered that Douglas, like Teresa, was a Fishtown local and, more interesting, they knew each other since they were kids. Teresa's friendship with Mandy didn't really blossom until Mandy started her nursing degree."
My eyes pulled from Trace to look at my uncle.
"You think Teresa was looking to use mom?"
"It certainly fits her pattern. I think that Teresa must have been gloating to Mandy and that's what put Mandy on the scent. I believe she went to Trace's house that day to help his mom but her focus changed after that visit; she was working to get Trace and his sister out of that house."
Trace's head came up at that and his face was just ravaged with guilt.
"The thing is, Trace, the only way that Mandy could have learned that you and your sister were in danger was from your mom."
I inhaled, almost painfully, but my eyes never left Trace as my uncle continued, "Your mom was trying to do the right thing."
"What I don't understand is if Mandy's goal was to get Trace and Chelsea to safety then why kill her? Also the thought that it was Teresa that killed Douglas and Victoria doesn't make much sense either since Teresa moved on to bigger fish and landed Charles. She got exactly what she wanted so there's no motive. Douglas coming after Teresa, I can see tha
t since Teresa moved on and left Douglas behind which could have sparked jealousy but not the other way around."
This came from my dad but I was too busy thinking about my mom as a wave of pride for her washed over me. She was trying to be Trace and Chelsea's avenging angel. She wasn't one who saw, heard and spoke no evil but tried to do the right thing and knowing that about her had me feeling an even greater love for her. Trace, though, was clearly not thinking along the same lines as he attempted to stand but my dad stayed that action with a hand on his shoulder.
"I want to say something to you, Trace, and I ask that you please hear me out."
Trace sat back down but he didn't look happy.
"Mandy was my life. What I felt for her is exactly as you feel for my daughter. We belonged to the other from the moment we set eyes on each other. When I lost her to such a senseless accident it nearly undid me but knowing that she was trying to do the right thing -- that she died as she lived with honor and an indomitable sense of right and wrong -- I don't know somehow it makes it easier to accept her death. With that being said, all that I have left of Mandy is in Ember."
"I understand, sir." Trace started to rise again but my dad stopped him.
"You don't though, Trace, please let me finish. I love Ember with all that I am; she's my life, and not just any one will do for her. As a father you'll understand when you and Ember have a daughter. How you will know that no one will ever be good enough for her and how you absolutely will not allow her to settle. Trace, look at me son."
Trace did and I saw the tears in his eyes as he listened to my father.
"What I'm trying to say to you is that when I look at you I see my wife. I see a person of incredible integrity and honor. What I don't see is the sick son of a bitch who was your father and I don't know how to make you understand that -- to make you see that you are nothing like the man who donated his sperm -- except for putting it into terms that you can understand." My dad met and held Trace's stare before he offered, "I would be honored to call you son."
My dad placed his hand on Trace's shoulder before he added, "You, Trace, are very, very worthy."
Trace just sat there, his head lowered, and then I saw the shaking of his shoulders and realized that he was crying. I stood to go to him but my dad beat me to it as he lowered to his haunches, wrapped his arms around Trace, and offered him his shoulder. When Trace -- big, hard, bad-ass Trace -- turned and wrapped his arms around my dad and really cried on my dad's shoulder, I started crying in earnest because I knew, somehow, that my dad had finally gotten through to him.
My dad and uncle left after breakfast since they wanted to follow up on a few things but my thoughts were on Trace. He was in his office, had been since the talk with my dad, so after I cleaned up breakfast I walked down the hall and knocked on the door. He didn't answer so I walked in and found him behind his desk. He was turned from me, looking out the window, but I knew he was aware of my presence since it wasn't possible for us to be in the same room and not feel the other on every imaginable level.
"My nightmares, the ones recently, they're not about my past or my dad..." He turned then and looked me right in the eye.
"...they're about losing you. For twenty-eight years I believed I was a good for nothing and was self-destructive because deep down I believed I wasn't worthy and then you came into my life. Someone who lost so much because of the depravity of my family and yet it was you, even knowing what linked us, that made me feel good about myself and gave me hope to believe that I wasn't a worthless piece of a shit."
He stood then and came around his desk so he could pull me into his arms.
"Your mom tried to rescue me but it was you who saved me, Ember. The daughter of the woman killed because of my family is the one who saved me."
"Fate, Trace."
"I never believed in Fate but I do believe that you're right." He pressed a kiss to my head before he lowered to his one knee.
"This wasn't how I planned on asking you. I intended to get up on stage and make it a grand gesture but my feelings for you run so deeply that I think this way is more appropriate."
He reached into his pocket for a small black leather box. My heart was pounding in my chest as Trace opened it to reveal a beautiful platinum, oval-cut diamond ring. The sight of it being held in his hands had tears filling my eyes.
"There are so many reasons I could list as to why I want you in my life but the three most important are I respect you, I admire you and I love you. Marry me, Ember."
My tears were spilling down my face as I lifted my shaking hand and watched, with love, as Trace slid his ring onto my finger.
"Yes, I'll marry you."
He stood and wrapped me in his arms, lifting me up and spinning me around in circles. "You won't regret it, Ember, I'll make you deliriously happy: every second of every day."
"You already do, Trace."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Later that day, my dad and I were reviewing the contract that Lucien had messengered over while Trace and my uncle went to pick up Chelsea.
"I think this is a wonderful idea, Ember." He looked at me and smiled before he asked, "Am I going to meet this mysterious Lucien Black?"
"Actually..." the door bell rang. "...yes."
I walked to the door and pulled it open for Lucien. He stepped into the apartment and lifted my hand but stopped when he saw the ring on my finger. His eyes moved to mine as a smile touched his lips.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
He brushed his lips over my knuckles and then his attention moved to behind me. I stepped back and kept Lucien's hand as I turned to my dad.
"Dad, Lucien Black, Lucien my dad Shawn Walsh."
"Hello, sir, it's very nice to meet you," Lucien said as he walked to my dad and held out his hand.
"Please, call me Shawn. It's nice to meet you. Ember and I were just reviewing the contract you had sent over. Thank you for helping her make this possible."
Lucien's eyes found mine before he said, "It's my pleasure."
My dad grinned and then he added, "I'm not a lawyer but the contract looks good to me, in fact, it seems as if it was written with Ember's interests in mind and not your own."
Lucien's reply to that was to say, "She's my friend."
"I signed it so I suppose we can setup those meetings with the contractors," I said.
"Absolutely. When are you free?"
"Any time. I'm eager to get the ball rolling."
"How about tomorrow?"
"Perfect."
"I'll come for you around eleven?"
"...sounds great."
He turned to my dad. "It was very nice meeting you, sir, I mean Shawn."
"...likewise, Lucien."
"Wait, can you stay? We're having a small celebratory dinner, stay."
"I don't want to intrude."
"...you're not, stay." I insisted.
His smile was dazzling before he said, "I'd love to."
I called Rafe, Luke and Trent so by the time Trace and my uncle returned home with Chelsea, we had five additional people in the apartment. We were all in the kitchen preparing dinner. Kelly was just going bonkers for my ring; and it was a masterpiece made even more so because it was placed on my finger by Trace. As soon as Chelsea entered the kitchen, she ran right to me and threw her arms around me.
"You're going to be my sister for real."
"Yes, I am."
"I always wanted a sister." Chelsea pulled back and her smile was breathtaking.
"Chelsea, I would like to introduce you to my dad." Chelsea's eyes moved to my dad and I saw as nervousness filled her but she walked over to him and extended her hand.
"Hello, sir."
The look on my dad's face as he looked at Chelsea almost broke my heart because I knew he was thinking about all that she had suffered. He moved to pull her into his arms and I saw her stiffen, saw as Trace reacted, and then quite suddenly her arms reached up to wrap around my dad and from t
hat moment on Chelsea became like a second daughter to him.
The following day, Lucien and I sat in our newly purchased building as four different contractors presented their visions to us. I liked them all but, McAllister Associates, was the closest to what I envisioned.
While Lucien worked out the details, I sat there thinking about the previous evening. We introduced my dad and uncle to Wii and they were addicted, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if they purchased their own Wii when they returned home. What I really liked watching was Trace and Chelsea because they had a family. The ten of us were a family and for two people who really never had the experience, it was so nice to watch them blossom because of it.
I looked around the deserted warehouse and I couldn't wait to see the transformation. I couldn't wait to sit in the front row for Trace's very first cooking lesson. The thought of him, the tattooed- fighter, teaching a bunch of people how to make pasta put a smile on my face. He'd always have the hard edge, that untouchable quality to his character because it was who he was, but to have a part in making his dream a reality, yes, I very much couldn't wait to see that.
I watched Lucien as my thoughts detoured to Trace's parents. The night that Trace begged for help, his mom was unresponsive basically forcing Trace to help his sister himself: an action that took them out of the house on the very same night that Trace's parents were killed. It was just too improbable that it was a home invasion, it was intentional and every time I ran the scenarios in my head, the only one that made any sense to me was that Victoria refused to help her children because she wanted them out of the house. She wanted them gone because she intended to take care of her husband, personally. Especially learning that she was trying to help my mom with saving her children, yes, I think Victoria killed Douglas but what I didn't know was who the hell killed Victoria and why?
I had yet to share this suspicion with Trace because he had quite enough to deal with at that time but I did pass it along to my uncle and I wasn't surprised to learn that he was thinking along the same lines. Of all the players in the game, none of them had a motive to kill Victoria, so it was more than likely that her killer was still out there, an unknown.
