Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia #1) (25 page)

“Me too,” I replied but the words were barely above a whisper.

★★★

I was shaking.

Why was I shaking?

“Wake up,” Trace coaxed and I felt something soft press against my lips.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Trace hovering above me. He grinned like a little boy. “I knew kissing you would do the trick, just like Cinderella.”

“You’re thinking of Sleeping Beauty,” I yawned, covering my open mouth with a hand.

“Whatever,” he rolled off of me.

“Are you always this…
chipper
in the mornings?” I groaned.

“No,” he smiled wickedly, “
I’m usually horny.”

I tossed a pillow at his face. He caught it and tucked it behind his back.

“It’s not that I’m not horny this morning,” he continued much to my dismay, “I just figured you wouldn’t appreciate waking up with me between your legs.”

I moaned, and it wasn’t in irritation. His words had sent
tingles of pleasure straight through me.

Damn him.

He licked his lips and leaned closer. “Based on that little moan of pleasure, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have objected.”

His hand skimmed over the side of my hip, and he nuzzled my neck, kissing it tenderly. I pushed his shoulder so he ended up sprawled across the other side of the bed. He looked excited, no doubt he was thinking I was about to hop on, and take a ride. Crazy man. “Down boy,” I warned.

“Ugh, you’re mean,” he pretended to wince.

“And you’re driving me insane,” I sighed.

“Are my
ploys working?” He gazed at me with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and climbed from the bed.

“I’m going to shower,” I called as I walked away.

“You can run but you can’t hide,” he sing-songed and I heard rustling as he climbed from the bed.

“Don’t even think about joining me, bud. I know what your agenda is and it’s
not
happening,” I snapped.

“Fine,” I hea
rd him say before I closed the bathroom door; “I’ll just take you back to my place and handcuff you to my bed. Problem solved,” he cackled.

I washed my long hair in record time, afraid that Trace was going to pop in the bathroom any second. He was driving me insane with all his innuendos
, and I was close to taking him up on it, but the thought of being in his family’s house was too awkward for me to get over. Especially, since I had only met them last night.

If he kept it up though, I
would
be begging him to chain me to his bed.

What had Trace turned me into?

I dressed quickly in the same outfit I wore yesterday which I had left folded neatly on the counter.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Trace was dressed, and the bed was made.

“Hungry?” He asked. “Cecilia made breakfast.”

“Starving,” I smiled graciously.

I followed him through the maze like house and into the dining room. We were the first to arrive and Cecilia was starting to bring out different dishes of food.

“Do you guys always eat your meals in here?” I asked, looking around at the grandeur
dining room. 

“Yeah, Gramps likes to eat in here. He says if we’re going to have a fancy dining room we might as well use it. There’s an eat-in area in the kitchen but it’s never been used.”

“Huh,” I mused quietly. “I would think there would be a lot of unused spaces in this house.”

“Gramps, is weird,” Trace shrugged.

“Respect your elders, boy,” Warren snapped as he came hobbling into the dining room. He stopped behind Trace and smacked the back of his head with a surprising amount of strength.

“Sorry, Gramps,” Trace muttered.

“You gotta watch this one,” Warren chuckled as he sat down, and addressed me, a finger pointed at his grandson, “if he gets outta line, you’ve just got to give him a little smack.” He swatted at the air for emphasis. “That’ll straighten him right up.”

I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of the family strolled casually into the dining room.

I grabbed a bagel and slathered it in cream cheese and added two scoops of mixed fruits onto my plate.

Cecilia brought out champagne flutes filled with orange juice and a slim orange slice along the rim.

“How did you sleep?” Trace’s mom, Lily, asked me.

“Well, thank you,” I took a sip of orange juice.

“I’m glad the guest
room was to your liking,” she smiled.

“Wait, what?” I gasped.

Trace snickered beside me.

I glared over at him.

“Way to go!” Trent fist bumped Trace.

“Oh, God,” I hung my head in my hands.

“I—uh—take it you didn’t sleep in the guestroom,” Lily chuckled.

“This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she shrugged, spearing her scrambled eggs, “you’re both adults.”

“Still,” I glared at Trace. “You’re such a little liar.”

“I told you she wouldn’t care,” he shrugged.

“Ugh,” I groaned, praying a hole would open up
, and swallow me.

Warren cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the head of the table. “I was able to speak with Cameron, who owns the snow removal business we use, and he said that they should be able to clear the driveway this afternoon.”

I smiled gratefully and then paled. “Oh my God!” I stood up from the table. “I forgot to let my mom and Avery know we got snowed in. They’re probably so worried,” I started to dart away from the table but Trace caught my arm.

“I talked to your mom las
t night, you were in the shower, and your phone rang,” he explained. “I answered and told her what had happened.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” I put a hand to my racing heart and sat back down.

Trent snickered from across the table. “Did you seriously say, ‘Thank goodness’?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied.

He laughed quietly. “Grammy says that.”

“That’s because Grammy’s cool,” Trace slung his arm across the back of my chair.

“Grammy’s not cool,” Trent snorted.

Ellie glared at her youngest grandson. “Who was it that went snowboarding with you during winter break
last year?”

“You did,” Trent squeaked.

“And what did you say then?” She raised a brow, waiting for his response.

“That you were the coolest grandma ever,” he mumbled, looking down at the shiny wood
en table.

Ellie smiled. “Now
, that that’s settled, let’s all enjoy this lovely breakfast.”

★★★

“Okay,” I held up a finger, “so in the basement, there’s a movie theater, a game room, a basketball court, and a bowling alley. What else do you guys have?”

“Well,” Trace collapsed on the huge sectional couch in the family room, “in the backyard
, there’s a pool with a diving board, slide, and waterfall. There’s a hot tub too. And if you don’t mind walking, we have a tennis court, because back in the day, Grammy played, and Gramps added that. We also have a couple of tree stands for hunting scattered around the property.”

I stood, looking around the gargantuan family room.

Trace grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him. He smoothed my hair
away from my eyes and cupped my cheek. “You look like a little kid in a candy store with your mouth hanging open like that. Should I find you a lollipop?”

I rolled my eyes.
“It’s kinda unbelievable that you grew up here and your family is great. They’re not stuffy at all. I love your grandpa,” I thundered on, ignoring his statement about lollipops.

“I told you,” he grinned, “and they love you.”

I snuggled against his warm chest and closed my eyes. “I love them too,” I murmured, before the calming symphony of our breaths sang me to sleep.

c h a p t e r

Twenty One

I hugged Warren tightly. I had never met my grandparents and I found something in Warren that I connected with.

“Come back and see us,” he whispered in
my ear. “Don’t worry about being with Trace. Come anytime, ya hear?”

I pulled away and nodded. “I will.”

He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

My eyes lit upon a picture behind Warren. “Is that-”

He turned and smiled sadly. “Trace’s dad?” He supplied.

I nodded.

“It is. The resemblance is uncanny. Trey marked both of those boys. There is no doubting they’re members of the Wentworth family. Trace looks the most like him though,” Warren explained. “That boy loved his daddy something fierce. He did some bad things after Trey died in the accident. He was like a different person. Somehow, he found his way back to the light, and I’m so thankful for it,” Warren breathed. “For a while there, it was like we lost two people. Did Trace tell you that he was with his dad when he died?”

“No,” I gasped, tears automatically welling in my eyes.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it but they were out goofing around on those bikes and a semi-truck slammed into Trey. Bastard didn’t even stop. Trey was in front of Trace, so poor Trace saw everything. There were body parts scattered everywhere.”

Sobs raked my body. “Th-that’s h-h-hor-ible,” I stuttered.

I couldn’t imagine the kind of pain that one would experience from an event like that. No wonder Trace had gone off the deep end. Anyone would.

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Warren hugged me to his robust chest. His hand rubbed up and down my back soothingly. “I didn’t tell ya to make ya cry. I just wanted to help you understand my grandson better. He pushed everyone away after his dad died and I don’t want to see him do the same thing to you, because Olivia, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time,” he swallowed thickly. “If he grows distant
, you’re going to have to push him, don’t let him retreat into that dark hole he disappears to inside himself.”

“I won’t,” I vowed, remembering the first time Trace kissed me, and how he walked away from me. I understood now
why he did. When you lose someone you care about that much, it’s hard to connect with someone, for the fear of getting hurt again.

Warren continued to hold me until all my tears had been shed.

“Better?” He asked, as I swiped underneath my eyes.

“Yeah,” I nodded, my voice a little shaky, “I’m glad you told me
. It was just a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” he replied as the others joined us in the foyer.

“Why are you crying?” Concerned, Trace ran to my side, and began looking me over.

“I’m fine,” I squirmed under his gaze.

“No, you’re not. You’re crying, and in my book, crying never means someone’s fine or okay. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he pleaded.

I looked at Warren pleadingly
, for him to come up with an excuse.

“I was just telling Olivia,” Warren started, “that I may not know her well but I consider
her as much my granddaughter as you are my grandson and that she’s welcome here anytime. She just got emotional, that’s all. Women cry for no reason sometimes, boy, get used to it,” he clapped Trace on the shoulder before disappearing behind a door I had been told led to his home office.

“You see, I never had grandparents,” I shrugged, trying to explain away my tears further. I didn’t think Trace would take too kindly to the fact that his grandpa had told me how his dad died.

“Oh,” he nodded, absorbing my words. “Okay.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I said my goodbye’s to the rest of Trace’s family and followed him out through the garage.

The snow had been completely cleared. I only hoped the actual road was as snow free as the driveway.

Luckily, no one seemed brave enough to be out driving, so we practically had the road to ourselves, which was nice. I didn’t have to worry about us hitting a spot of ice and slamming into another car.

Trace pulled into Avery’s driveway.

“I’m sorry we got snowed in,” he said softly.

“I’m not. It gave me more time to get to know them,” I smiled.

He reached for my hand. “They all love you. You were great.”

“I’m happy I didn’t throw up on myself,” I laughed. “I was really nervous.”

Trace chuckled. “I think Gramps wishes he could replace
, Trent and me, with you.”

“I doubt that,” I rolled my eyes. “I better get in there,” I pointed to the door. In fact, I was kind of surprised that Avery hadn’t come running out to assault me with questions.

“Alright,” he leaned over to kiss me deeply.

“On second thought,” I breathed
, cupping his chin in my hand, “I can stay.”

“Nice try,” he smiled, running his thumb over my lower lip.

He pecked my lips once more and I slipped out of the car. He waited for me to enter the garage code and go inside. It didn’t escape my attention that there was a new car in the garage. I wondered if Avery’s parents had arrived home or if another one of her brothers was here.

I opened the door that led into the mudroom and was greeted by a flustered Avery. “Olivia! There you are!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the kitchen. “My parents are here,” she hissed in my ear warningly. “Mom, dad,” she called to the two people standing at the center island with their backs to us. “This is Olivia.”

They turned around slowly. I was expecting glares and orders to get out of their house. Instead, Avery’s redhead mother came striding towards me with open arms. “It’s so nice to meet you, Olivia. I’m so sorry about what happened with your dad. You and your mom are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I mean that,” she insisted, holding me at arm’s length. Avery looked like a younger version of her mom but with plumper cheeks and lips. Her mom was very thin and tall. Tall enough that I was sure she could have been a model. “Oh, and I’m Theresa, but just call me Resa. And this-” she motioned to the man beside her, “is my husband, Galen.”

“Hi,” I waved awkwardly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he replied. His blonde hair was cut short and styled to perfection. His light blue eyes seemed to miss nothing. “Avery speaks highly of you,” he added, peering down at me over his thin aristocratic nose, which appeared to be the only thing his daughter had inherited from him.

“Okay, great,” Avery grabbed my arm again, “now th
at introductions have been made, I really need to talk to my best friend.”

Before her parents had a chance to respond, she pulled me out of the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at them apologetically.

Avery led me upstairs, and into her room, closing the door behind us.

“Spill girl,” she demanded. “How’d it go?”

“It went good,” I shrugged.

“Good?” She perched on the end of her bed and I collapsed into a green beanbag chair. “I need more details than that.”

“I really liked them and I managed to not do anything stupid,” I answered. “His grandpa is great.”

“So, what kind of house did they live in?” She asked, twirling a lock of red hair.

“They didn’t exactly live in a—uh—house,” I muttered.

Her brows furrowed together. “So, where’d they live? A trailer?”

“Um, not quite,” I nervously chewed on a hangnail, and wiggled, causing the balls in the beanbag chair to make a funny swishing sound.

“You’re being vague, Olivia. Speak,” she commanded.

“You see—well—I don’t know where to begin,” I stuttered, still biting on that stubborn hangnail.

“Here’s a wild idea,” she snapped sarcastically, “start at the beginning.”

“It’s a mansion, Avery,” I finally managed to find the words, “and when I say a mansion, I mean a
mansion
.”

“Bigger than this house?” She raised one brow.

“It makes this house look like a trailer,” I replied.

She whistled. “Holy crap…wait,” she eyed me, “what did you say his last name is?”

“Wentworth,” I shrugged.

“Oh my God,” she stood and began to pace across her bedroom. “I can’t believe I never connected the dots before. I’m so stupid!
” She smacked her forehead. “I should’ve known he was one
those
Wentworth’s. It’s not like there are many around and that family is practically like royalty in this area. I just assumed he couldn’t be related because why would someone worth billions be working at a mechanics shop.”

“Billions!?” I screamed shrilly. “No one said anything about billions!”

She stopped and gave me a ‘duh’ look. “Of course they’re billionaires, Olivia, or at least pretty damn close to it.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Billions?” I gasped again.

It had been hard enough for me to swallow the unexpected news of Trace’s family being rich…but billions went beyond rich…that was…insane. I couldn’t begin to imagine what a billion dollars even looked like or what on Earth you’d do with it.

“Hey,” Avery knelt down in front of me and pulled my hand
s away from where they clutched my cheeks. “Are you okay? Is this what a panic attack looks like? Where’s my stupid brother Ben when you need him?”

“Why do you need Ben?” I asked.

“He’s a doctor,” she shrugged. “Are you okay?” She repeated, looking me over.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I choked.

“Do what?”

“This
—this—relationship with Trace-” I waved my hand dramatically. “He didn’t tell me about his family being rich and now, you’re telling me they’re worth billions! How can I compete with that! I’m a normal girl from New Hampshire, Avery! Not the Hamptons!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she grabbed my flinging hands
, and brought them down to my sides, holding them in place. “This,” she pointed her finger in my face, “is exactly why lover boy didn’t tell you. Frankly, I don’t blame him. You do have the tendency to overreact.” I opened my mouth but she shushed me. “Trace is still the same guy he was before you found all this out.”

“That’s exactly what he said,” I mumbled reluctantly.

She smiled. “It seems to me that Trace has tried to distance himself from that lifestyle. He works as a mechanic, and lives above the garage, it seems to me that he’s trying to make his own life not based on his family’s name.”

“It’s just…weird,” I pleaded with my eyes for her to understand me. “I have
nothing
to my name and he has
everything
.”

“Hey,” she shook me
lightly. “Money is
not
everything. Money does not buy you happiness, Olivia. A shiny new toy doesn’t make up for mommy and daddy being gone all the time. It doesn’t fill an ache inside you. All that matters is how you feel about Trace and how he feels about you.”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she scoffed. “I’m always right.”

I scooted over and made room for
her on the beanbag chair. I lay with my head on her shoulder.

“You were talking about your mom and dad, weren’t you?” I asked quietly.

She nodded. “It’s not that they’re bad people…they’re just not very good parents. They’ve both always been too focused on making money and traveling…just the two of them. We didn’t matter to them. It’s sad, but true. They tried to make up for being gone all the time by giving us gifts. But that wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry, Avery,” I whispered.

“It was a long time ago. I know they love me and I love them…but it’s a different kind of love. It’s not the way it should be. I hardly know them.” We both grew quiet and then she pleaded, “Don’t let your insecurities make you miss out on the greatest thing to ever happen to you.”

“I won’t,” I sighed, “I’m in too deep.”

I had fallen too far and too deep to swim back to the surface now.

I was sunk, hook, line, and sinker, into Trace Wentworth.