Beautifully Damaged (Beautifully Damaged series) by L.A. Fiore (8)

Trace and I were out shopping in a part of the city that I didn’t often visit. There was a dealer of Schuberth helmets that Trace wanted to visit so he could get me my own helmet, a really safe helmet, for his bike. Were there even words?

Once we picked the one we wanted, I walked outside as Trace took care of the rest.

“Ember, funny seeing you out and about. What, no book to read?”

I stopped abruptly at the sight of Lena and Todd standing right outside the store. Lena wrapped her arms around Todd in what I supposed was a sign of solidarity.

So, apparently, not only had the bridge been burned, but also swept away by a raging current. “Actually, I just finished a wonderful story on karma and how it always comes back around. No one is safe, neither the bitchy and self-absorbed nor the calculating pimps.”

Lena’s eyes grew wider and her face went pale for a second. “Todd and Dane aren’t like that.” Our time apart clearly had no effect on where her loyalties lay.

“And you know this because you’ve been with Todd for a few months so you readily take his word on the matter over someone you’ve known since the seventh grade?”

“Todd doesn’t lie.”

“And I do?”

“I didn’t say that; don’t put words into my mouth. Trace lied and you believed him. Naivety happens when you’re socially stunted from spending all of your time alone.”

My disgusted disbelief started out as a chuckle, but before long I was roaring, laughing so hard that my eyes filled with tears. I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand as I met, and held, Lena’s incredulous expression.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to see you for what you really are. My dad had you nailed, but me, I guess I’m not that quick on the uptake.”

At that moment the door of the shop slammed open before six-feet-four of towering rage. Trace lifted Todd a foot off the pavement by his shirt. He looked like he was going to commit murder and Todd, it seemed, was about to toss his lunch.

“You’re too fucking close, asshole.” Trace's voice made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end.

My eyes stayed on Lena and when she was able to pull her gaze from my spectacularly gorgeous boyfriend, I saw jealousy again in hers.

“This is Trace.” I leaned closer before I added, “He really hates your boyfriend. Do yourself a favor and get him away—far, far away.”

Trace shoved Todd, causing him to stumble backward before falling onto his ass as Trace took a few steps closer and loomed over him.

“If you get too close to Ember again, you’ll need to be carried away.”

Todd didn’t hesitate to scurry to his feet before he turned and practically ran away, his arms pumping at his sides in his retreat. I turned to Lena as Trace reached for my hand to link our fingers.

“What a real gem you’ve got there. Actually, you know what? You two are perfect for each other.”

With an outraged huff, she turned and followed after her loser boyfriend and though I knew she wasn’t, and probably never had been, the person I thought she was, I was still saddened to realize that such a huge part of my childhood had been a lie.

“Are you okay, Ember?”

“I am.”

“She doesn’t deserve your energy. You know that, right?”

He was right and I said as much.

“Good. Now let’s get something to eat because I’m starving.”

I was working on my book but my focus was off since my thoughts kept returning to the scene with Lena from the other day. When my cell phone buzzed, I welcomed the distraction.

“Ember.”

“Hank!” Joy filled me when I heard the voice from home, but it was quickly replaced with fear because why would my dad’s friend be calling me? “Is something wrong with Dad?”

“He’s okay, Ember, just a little roughed up, but I thought you should know.”

“How roughed up? What happened?”

“A really nasty sprain. A crate fell from the lift and your dad landed wrong when he jumped out of the way. He’s wearing one of those boots and hasn’t stopped bitching about it.”

A reluctant smile touched my lips and the fear ebbed since if he was complaining it couldn’t be that bad.

“I’m guessing he’s home.”

“Yeah, forced vacation for a week. Accidents are a part of the job but waiting out the recovery period is always boring.”

I needed to see for myself that my dad was okay, but he would feel guilty that I dropped everything to do so. “I’ll come down this weekend.”

Hank exhaled in relief. “I was so hoping you were going to say that.”

Trace had left earlier in the day to help Rafe deliver some of his pieces to a client. I didn’t hear him come home. He startled me out of packing when he asked, “What are you doing?”

He was leaning against the doorjamb trying to look casual, but he was anything but. I realized how this must look.

“My dad got hurt on the job. It’s nothing serious, but I’m going home this weekend to see for myself.”

I saw the tension ease before I added, “I would love it if you would come with me, but I completely understand if you don’t.”

He touched a lock of my hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers, before he teased, “Meeting the parent?”

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

My question hung unanswered between us and I was certain he was looking for an excuse, but he surprised me when he answered with a quiet sincerity, “I’d like to meet your dad.”

Fishtown, a tight-knit Irish community, was following the example of its neighbor on the west, Northern Liberties, with a wave of urban renewal as new businesses made Fishtown their home. I took one look at our rental as I got in and asked, “Why did you rent an Escalade? It’s like a tank.”

He spared me a glance, a grin flirting over his sexy mouth, before he offered, “Because it’s like a tank.”

Understanding dawned as a smile spread over my face. “You’re nervous about meeting my dad?”

I noticed his hands were gripping the steering wheel with such force that they were almost white and, when I looked at his profile, I saw his jaw clenching. Hoping to ease his anxiety, I reached over and touched his cheek as he said, “I’ve never been brought home to meet the family, so it’s a bit stressful when the first time I do is with the only one who matters.”

“I’ve never brought a boy home, so it’s a first for both of us.”

His eyes found mine as a smile touched his lips and we shared a brief moment. I saw humor before his eyes returned to the road.

“Or maybe I’m intimidated. You know your dad and his dockworker friends.”

“Tease all you want but my dad is going to love you and so are the guys. You’re going to fit right in, trust me.”

We pulled up in front of my dad’s row house and there he and his boot were, sitting on the front steps. He looked as he always had with his short-cropped hair, which was the same shade of brown as mine, and eyes that were more hazel than brown. Having worked on the docks, he was built a lot like Trace and even pushing fifty, he was still broad in the shoulders and narrow in the waist. The sight of the boot brought an unexpected pang of fear. My dad was my rock. He was invincible in my eyes but seeing that boot only drove the point home that he was mortal. I shook the thought away just as Trace shut off the engine.

I turned to him in time to see a hint of panic sweep over his expression. Why the sight of that made my heart melt, I couldn’t say.

“Come meet my dad.”

Trace pressed a kiss in my palm before he climbed out of the car and came around to open my door. My dad moved from the front step and he slowly hobbled over to us. Heaven forbid the stubborn and willful man should show weakness by using crutches.

“Emmie, my girl. You didn’t need to come home, not that I’m not thrilled that you did. Hank’s turning into a mothering hen in his old age.” Before I could answer, my dad wrapped me in his strong, familiar arms.

“I needed to see for myself that you were okay, Daddy.”

“Just a mishap with a crate but I’m really happy to see you.”

As we pulled away, I reached for Trace’s hand and pulled him closer, keeping my eyes on my dad’s.

“Dad, Trace Montgomery. Trace, my dad, Shawn Walsh.”

I watched as the two most important people in my life took each other’s measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Call me Shawn, son.” My dad’s eyes moved to the car behind us; a smile cracked over his face before his eyes returned to Trace’s.

“You rented that?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t you find anything bigger?”

There was a moment of silence before Trace threw his head back and howled with laughter. Just like that, all of the tension just drained from him. Trace grabbed our bags and we followed my dad up the steps and into the house.

“Emmie, you’re in your room. Trace, I’ll put you on the third floor.” He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to Trace before he added, “The stairs creak.”

He said nothing more as he turned and continued up the stairs. I couldn’t help the chuckle because Trace looked thoroughly chastised.

After Trace placed my bag on the floor near my bed, he followed my dad up to his room. A few minutes later there was a light knock on my door.

“Come in, Daddy.”

He pushed the door open, and closed it behind him before he walked over to settle on the edge of my bed.

“So you really are okay?” I asked.

“As you can see. Where did you meet Trace?”

“At a club. Someone was harassing me and he stepped in and knocked the guy’s lights out.”

I couldn’t tell what my dad was thinking, so I started babbling, trying to argue a case in Trace’s favor. “He, like you, pegged Lena’s character. Something dark from his past has left him believing he is unworthy of love. He’s a fighter, a really good one too.”

“I know. I’ve heard of him.”

That surprised me, but I moved past that and continued on, “He’s good, Daddy. He stands up for what’s right and underneath it all, there’s a man who is desperate for love, both giving it and receiving it. Next to you, he’s the finest man I’ve ever known.”

My heart was pounding as worry over whether my dad was going to like Trace consumed me. I didn’t know what I would do if he didn’t approve because I loved my dad but I loved Trace too. It was with genuine fear that I asked, “Do you think you could like him, Daddy?”

He reached over to take my hand. “He brought you home in a tank and didn’t argue being put up in the attic even though that boy could probably bench press me with little effort.” A smile touched my lips as I thought of that one day in the grocery store.

“But mostly, when he looks at you, he reminds me of how I used to look at your mother so, yes, I can see myself liking him.”

I threw my arms around my dad and held him close as he whispered in my ear, “Welcome home, Emmie girl.”

My dad went downstairs to brew some tea and I continued putting my things away. There was a knock at the door and I called for Trace to come in. I gave myself a moment to look at him filling the doorway of my childhood room.

“How’s your room?”

“I think if your dad could have gotten a cot on the roof he would have.”

“I’m his baby girl.”

“I know and that’s why if he had gotten that cot on the roof, I would have slept on it with no complaints.”

“He likes you.”

His eyebrow rose at that. “How do you know?”

“He told me.” I walked over to Trace and ran my hands up those arms, which, sadly, were covered by a sweater, before resting them on his shoulders.

“He said that the way you look at me reminds him of how he used to look at my mom.”

Trace’s arms came around me then and, when he spoke, he sounded hoarse. “If that look is the one where I can’t believe that you’re mine and I’d do anything to make you happy, then I’m guilty as charged.”

We joined my dad in the kitchen for lunch. I insisted on making the sandwiches so he could sit and rest, which he reluctantly agreed to. I got a look when I pulled the extra chair over to elevate his foot but he needed to suck it up. Once we were settled around the table my dad asked, “How’s the writing?”

“I haven’t gone back to my first book because the second one is all consuming. I even brought my laptop this weekend because when the story is flowing like this, I don’t want to lose momentum.”

“If you need someone to read it, I’d like nothing more.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

My dad turned his attention to Trace. “You’re amateur status, right?”

“Yes.”

“You have plans on going professional?”

I picked up on the subtle change in Trace’s voice when he said, “No, fighting is a release.”

“You make enough money to support yourself?”

I tensed even though my dad was justified in asking. “I’ve got an inheritance and a really good portfolio that keeps the money growing.”

“Fair enough.” I couldn’t tell what my dad was thinking. “If you want to work on your book, I can use the time to show Trace around the neighborhood and introduce him to some of the guys.”

“Take him to the docks and throw him in,” I said with a grin, but my dad was looking at Trace and shaking his head.

“If anyone is taking a swim, it wouldn’t be him. I couldn’t budge him with a backhoe. What do you bench?”

Trace’s grin was wicked when he replied, “How much do you weigh?”

My dad’s laugh was so nice to hear as he slapped Trace affectionately on the back. “Yup, I like you. Come on, let’s go scare my buddies.”

Trace stood and placed his and my dad’s dishes in the dishwasher before turning to me and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

“See you later, love.”

“Have fun. Behave, Daddy.”

He kissed my head before he replied, “Always.”

I was straightening up the living room and dusting when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the front steps. The door opened and in walked my dad and Trace. Judging from the smiles on their faces, their night together had been a success. Trace saw me first and the look in his eyes made my heart pound in my chest. My dad turned and smiled as he started for the stairs.

“I’m calling it a night. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He turned to Trace and put out his hand, which Trace immediately shook.

“Thanks for hanging with an old man.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

“See you in the morning, Emmie.”

“Good night, Daddy.”

Trace reached for me and pulled us both down onto the sofa. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest and snuggled more firmly against his side.

“Did you have fun?”

“I did but it’s some male rite of passage so I can’t tell you what we did.”

“You bellied up to the bar at Bud’s and nursed one beer all night while exchanging whose-is-bigger stories.”

A smile spread over Trace’s face as he reached up and touched my nose. “Exactly.”

And just like that his mood changed as he shifted his position so he could frame my face in his hands before he lowered his head to mine.

“Do you think your dad will mind if we make out on the sofa?”

“I’ve never made out on the sofa before.”

“Really? Well, there’s always a first time for everything.” And then his mouth was on mine as he wrapped me in his arms and pulled me across his lap. What an incredible first time.