Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia #1) (32 page)

“Still,” I mumbled, “it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s just a day, Olivia,” he smiled. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He put a hand to his chest.

I took a deep breath and decided to drop the subject.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he grinned and pointed to the small table behind the couch, “you can park your sexy ass in one of those chairs. That would be helpful.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, and pulled out one of the chairs, dropping into the seat dramatically, “Here I am, being helpful.”

He bent and peered at me underneath the cabinets. He faked a gasp. “Look at you, doing as you
’re told, I might have to give you a sticker.”

“I like stickers,” I laughed.

“Then I’ll make sure you have all the damn stickers in the world,” he chuckled.

“Just the unicorn ones,” I joked.

“Glitter colored unicorns?” He asked.

“Of course,” I feigned annoyance, “and they have to have pink manes.”

Plates clattered in the kitchen. “This is the weirdest conversation ever,” he snorted.

“Regardless,” I propped my head on my hands as he rounded the corner with our food, “I still want the sticker you promised.”

“That can be arranged,” he grinned as he set the plates down. He went back to the kitchen to grab utensils and our drinks.

“I could’ve helped you, you know,” I gazed up at him as I cut into my steak.

“I know,” he smiled, “but I wanted to do this by myself.”

I took a bite of the melt-in-your-mouth steak. “Is that the case, or were you afraid I’d ruin something?”

“No comment,” he chuckled. “Is the steak good?”

“It’s delicious,” I answered honestly.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he mused.

“About what?” I swallowed a bite of the garlic-mashed potatoes.

“One of things on your list,” he tapped his fingers against the wooden table and brought his beer to his lips with his free hand.

“Which one?” I asked and the nerves that usually accompanied the mentioning of my list were absent.

“When’s your spring break?” He asked to avoid my question.

“March seventh,” I answered.

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“Care to elaborate,” I persisted.

He leaned forward and our eyes connected. “On your list, you said you wanted to see the ocean,” he stated.

“Yeah,” I replied, even though it hadn’t been a question.

“I think we, and by we, I mean you, me, Avery, and Luca, should go to the beach over your spring break. It’ll be cold in March and you won’t want to get in the ocean, but at least you’ll get to see it.”

Excitement bubbled inside me. “I don’t want to get in the ocean anyway, too many fish,” I shuddered, “so the temperature won’t bother me. But are you sure? Can you take off work?”

“I have plenty of vacation days, besides,” he took another sip of beer, “Pete knows I work harder here than anybody, himself included. He’s always telling me to take a break and this seems like the perfect opportunity.”

I did a little happy dance in the chair which made Trace shake with laughter. “This is so exciting! I’m going to see the ocean! Oh my gosh, I can finally put my toes in the sand! And collect seashells!”

“I’m glad you’re excited,” he took a bite of his steak.

“Excited? That’s an understatement. Try, ecstatic!” I continued with my seated dance.

“It doesn’t take much to make you happy, Olivia,” he shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

★★★

Even though Trace had been adamant that I not help with the food preparation, I managed to get him to agree, albeit reluctantly, to let me help clean the dishes.

I was one of those people who hated sitting around, feeling useless. I needed to be up, and moving, doing something productive.

I scrubbed the dishes while Trace dried them and put them away.

We worked quietly, enjoying each other’s company.

I hadn’t seen him much since classes started up and I missed him something fierce.

I cleaned the last dish and pulled the plug so the soapy water could drain from the sink.

Strong arms wrapped around me
, from behind, boxing me in.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Olivia,” he crooned in my ear, burying his face into my hair.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Trace,” my eyes closed as I leaned against his hard chest.

He brushed my hair over my shoulder and kissed my neck tenderly.

My body instantly responded to his tender touch.

I turned in his arms
, and reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me onto the counter, staring at me. For once, I couldn’t read what he was thinking behind his bright green eyes.

In a flash, he cupped the back of my neck and pulled me to him, kissing me long and deep.

His hand ventured down, over my breast and ribcage, and he used both to grip my thighs, pulling me against his hips.

A moan escaped me when I felt the hard length pressing against my center. I may have been tired before, but now, I was wide-awake.

I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders.

He backed a step away; gazing at me with lust filled eyes, as he removed the shirt the rest of the way
, pulling the wife-beater over his head. He stepped forward again, holding me against his torso as he kissed me passionately. My hands were trapped between us and I used that to my advantage, running my fingers over the smooth planes of his abs, memorizing the dips and curves of his body.

Suddenly, he lifted me from the counter, and carried me into the bedroom.

He laid me gently on bed and covered my body with his.

I gripped his cheeks in my hands, stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of my palms, as he kissed me.

He undressed me slowly, taking his time exploring every plane of my body.

I started begging for more, but he only chuckled in reply.

When we finally came together, my only thought was: Perfect.

c h a p t e r

Twenty
Six

“Avery, we’re only going to the beach for five days. Do you really need to pack so much stuff?” I glared at my roommate as she tried to squeeze ‘one last thing’ into her already overflowing suitcase.

“Yes!” She cried. “
I never know what I might need!”

“Still,” I shrugged, “it seems like you could make do without it.”

She gasped. “Olivia!”

“What?” I asked innocently.

“I swear,” she shook her head, her red hair swishing around her shoulders, “sometimes, I wonder if you’re a girl.”

“I’m a girl,” I assured her with a smile as I sa
t on my bed, my packed—not-to-the-brim—suitcase, sat on the floor by the door. “I just don’t need as much stuff as you seem to need.”

“This,” Avery pointed to her face, “takes time, Livie. I need all my makeup
, and my flat iron, and-”

“I get it,” I held up a hand
to shut her up, “your highness.”

Thirty minutes later, the guys were outside waiting for us, and Avery still wasn’t ready.

“Hurry up,” I begged, desperate to leave, and start the almost five hour drive.

“I’m almost ready,” she insisted, trying to close her second suitcase.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I flopped back on my bed. “You said that an hour ago.”

“Done!” She announced a minute later.

“Thank you, Jesus!” I cried, sitting up, climbing from my bed. I wasn’t wasting any time. If Avery said she was ready, we were leaving, because I knew if we lingered a minute longer, she would think of something else she needed to bring.

I rolled my suitcase out the door and then picked it up to carry it down the steps. Thank goodness I hadn’t packed much and it was light and easy to carry. Avery didn’t have the same luxury.

I heard her cursing behind me as she fumbled with her two large suitcases.

“I’ll tell Luca to come help you!” I yelled and my voice echoed through the empty dorm. I was sure that Avery and I were the only ones that still hadn’t left for Spring Break
. Damn her and her need to over-pack.

“That might be a good idea!” She called back.

I stepped outside and spotted Trace leaning against a gray Toyota 4Runner.

He grinned when he saw me, pecking me on the cheek, taking my suitcase to load it in the trunk.

“Luca’s going to drive,” he informed me, “we figured everyone would be more comfortable riding in an SUV than a car.”

I nodded in agreement.

Trace held one of the back doors open, and I slid inside, tapping Luca on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he smi
led, showcasing a chipped tooth that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Avery needs some help,” I told him.

He sighed. “How much is she bringing?”

“You don’t want to know,” I mumbled.

“Shit,” he cursed, getting out of the car, and striding into the dorm.

Trace slid into the seat next to me in the back. “Are you excited to go to the beach?”

“You know I am,” I buckled my seatbelt. “I’m probably the only twenty year old on the planet, who’s never been to the beach.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I’m sorry you missed out on so much through
out your childhood, but selfishly, I’m really happy that you’re experiencing all these firsts, with
me
.” He glanced at me through hooded lashes.

“I’m glad I am too,” I answered honestly.

I couldn’t help believing, that somehow, my list had brought me to Trace. I knew that seemed childish, like someone believing in fairies, but that’s how I felt.

Luca and Avery appeared, walking around to the trunk, arguing.

The trunk opened and their voices drifted inside. “Av, I told you
one
suitcase! Not two, and a purse, and whatever the fuck that is!” He pointed to her makeup bag clutched in her hand.

“I
need
all of this,” she pouted. “I wasn’t leaving behind things I needed.”

Luca loaded the rest of her things in and
closed the trunk.

They resumed their bickering as soon as they got in the car.

“Besides,” Avery defended, “the weather at the beach is unpredictable this time of year. I needed a little bit of everything. Shorts, jeans, tanks, sweaters-”

“I get it,” Luca
snapped to silence her jabbering, as he excited the campus parking lot, turning onto the interstate.

Avery leaned towards him, whispering, “I know I won’t get to wear it outside, but I brought my bikini
, so I could model it for you. I want you to take it off of me and-”

“Avery!” I interrupted. “We can hear you!”

“I don’t care,” she replied, and continued on with exactly what it was she wanted Luca to do with her, not embarrassed at all that Trace and I could hear every word.

I buried my face into Trace’s shoulder to stifle my laugh.

“It’s going to be a long ride,” he mumbled.

“The longest,” I agreed.

★★★

Five hours later, we finally made it to the hotel.

Trace hopped out, and grabbed one of those rolling carts, loading our bags onto it, while Luca did the same with his and Avery’s things.

Trace wheeled our stuff inside while Luca spoke with the valet.

I let Trace take care of checking in, since the room was under his name, and collapsed into one of the whicker wingback chairs in the lobby. I welcomed the silence after the long drive with Avery’s endless chatter. I loved the girl, but sometimes, she didn’t know when to shut up.

Trace wheeled the cart to me and held up the room key triumphantly.

Grinning, he said, “Let’s drop our stuff off at the room, and then I’m taking you to see the ocean.”

I jumped up, my excitement returning, and followed him to the elevators.

“We’re on the top floor and I made sure we got an ocean view,” he smiled, leaning against the back wall of the elevator.

“I’m so excited,” I
exclaimed as the elevator doors opened.

We
walked down the hall, and Trace stopped in front of a door, sliding the key card in.

“Ta da,” he grinned, pushing the door open.

I stepped inside first and gasped.

It wasn’t like your typical hotel room. There was a small kitchen and dining table, with a full living room, and open doors leading to the bedroom.

The walls in both spaces were painted pale blue with white accents. Pictures of fish and seashells decorated the walls and the carpet was clean and plush.

But the
centerpiece of the whole space was the balcony and wall of windows, extending from the living room, into the bedroom.

“Wow,” I breathed, stepping up to the windows and gazing out at the blue-gray ocean. Even through the glass
, I heard the roar of the ocean as it crashed against the sand.

The door clicked closed and I felt Trace step up beside me.

“Is it everything you imagined?” He questioned.

“It’s better,” I answered.

He opened the sliding glass door, and we stepped outside, into the cool air. A sea breeze ruffled my hair. I smelled the salty sea and I knew it would be a scent I would never forget.

I glanced around
at the sand extending in both directions.

The ocean itself looked as if it went on forever.

“Can we go down there?” I asked, desperate to sink my toes in the sand, and
maybe
, let the cold ocean water wet my feet.

“That’s the plan,” Trace chuckled.

I raced back inside and to the door. “Hurry up, slow poke!”

Trace chased me down the hall and into the elevator. When he caught up to me
, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and hugged me.

He nuzzled his face against my neck. “It’s nice to get away,” he murmured.

“Mhmm,” I agreed, relaxing against him.

He pulled away and grinned at me. “I wish it was sunnier, because you really need a tan,” he chortled.

I smacked his shoulder. “Maybe
you
need a tan,” I glared.

“I was only joking,” he shook his head.

“I
know
,” I replied as the elevator doors opened into the lobby. “But I’m a
girl
, and we’re sensitive,” I explained, following the arrows that led us to a door straight onto the beach.

“I’m
very
aware that you’re a girl,” he smirked, pinching my hip.

I rolled my eyes at his banter.

As soon as my sneakers sunk into the sand, I couldn’t get them off fast enough.

I picked them up
, and carried them in my right hand, as I ran through the sand, squealing like a small child.

Trace’s chuckle e
choed through the air around me.

Since it was a colder day, we were the only ones crazy enough to be out on the beach, but I preferred it that way. It meant I could act as crazy as I wanted.

Trace caught up to me, slinging me over his shoulder, and spinning me around.

I squealed in surprise and he slapped my butt.

“Put me down,” I beat his back.

“Never,” his voice rumbled.

He ran down the beach, carrying me as if I weighed nothing.

The roar of the water got closer
, and I began to panic, twisting in his arms. “Trace! No!”

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’m not going to drop you in the ocean. I only want to get your
feet wet.”

He set me down
, gently on the sand, and we both rolled up the pants legs of our jeans. He took my hand and we stepped forward.

The icy cold water rol
led over my feet and ankles, causing me to scream shrilly.

“That’s cold!” I cried as I backed away so the icy water couldn’t get me again.

“It’s March, of course it’s cold,” he chuckled. “But I wanted you to be able to say you put your toes in the ocean.”

“I can certainly say that now,” I shivered and he wrapped his warm arm around me.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled, kissing the top of my head.

We sat down on the sand
, and Trace pulled me between his legs, wrapping his arms around my torso for warmth.

I picked up
a handful of sand and watched it sift through my fingers. I loved how when you held a lot of it, or dug your toes into the sand, it felt soft, but when you touched only a few grains, you could feel the rough edges of the rocks they had once been.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?” Trace asked, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

“Nothing,” I responded. “Just enjoying this.”

I smiled to myself, knowing that one more thing could now be crossed off my list. It was amazing, getting to do these things I had been longing to do, but a part of me wondered, when I had completed everything how would I feel? Would I feel satisfied or incomplete? For two years, doing these things
was all I had dreamed of, but now that it was happening, what would I do next?

★★★

I picked up as many seashells as I could find, stuffing them into my pockets, and handing even more to Trace.

“Where are you going to put all of these?” He asked, putting a handful in his back pocket.

“In a jar,” I responded, picking up another with pretty pink and white coloring. “I wish I had a bucket,” I mumbled. “That would be helpful.”

“Maybe Avery has one,” Trace snorted, trailing behind me. “It seems like she packed everything else.”

“Who knows?” I shrugged. “She might.”

Trace held up two large seashells to his chest. “You could make a smokin’ hot bikini top with these,” he joked and did a poor imitation of a hula dancer by shaking his hips. I hated to inform him that hula dancers didn’t wear seashell tops.

I rolled my eyes. “Only in your dreams.”

He grabbed me around my waist, letting the seashells fall to the sand. He tickled my side and I giggled as I tried to wrestle from his grasp. “Come on, Olivia. Make
my sexy mermaid fantasy come true. Don’t crush a man’s dreams!”

“Never!” I cried, falling to the ground, laughing as he continued his assault.

Sand covered my clothes and hair, but I didn’t mind, because I was having too much fun.

“Stop!” I pleaded. “Please! Stop tickling me!”

“Only if I get a kiss,” he grinned, causing my stomach to somersault. Trace’s smile was lethal. “And a promise that
one
day you’ll wear a seashell top for me.”

“Fine!” I gasped. At this point
, I’d agree to anything, if he’d stop tickling me.