Beautifully Damaged (Beautifully Damaged series) by L.A. Fiore (16)

I can’t lie, I’m a bit upset to lose you as a roommate, but I’m glad things worked out with Trace.” It had been a month since Trace and I had our heart-to-heart and Trace had asked me if I would move back in with him. I was hesitant, but had to take the leap.

I didn’t have much stuff—only a few bags of important things. I had left the rest at Trace’s when I departed so abruptly. I hadn’t yet retrieved my things since I didn’t know how. Luckily, now I didn’t need to worry about it. “Thanks for helping me pack the rest of my stuff. I’ve really enjoyed staying here. How about I order us some Chinese food?”

He turned to look at me as he filled my duffle bag. “Cool.”

Once I was all packed Kyle 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. Kyle reached for another egg roll.

“Just because you’re moving out doesn’t mean we can’t do this anymore.”

“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. How are things with Trace?”

I placed my plate on the table and reached for my glass. “We’re actually talking about his past—I understand him better now and it’s helping us as a couple.”

Kyle smiled. “You saw something in him and you held on. He’s lucky that you cared enough to stick.”

“I think I’m the lucky one. 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.”

Kyle 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 and he was standing out front waiting for me. He opened my door and helped me from the car before he kissed me hard on the mouth.

“Did you have fun with Kyle?” he asked as he carried my bags into the building.

“I did. We’re going to continue our Chinese takeout night once a week: here one week and there one week. We’d both like it if you’d join us.”

Surprise flashed over his face. “I would really like that,” he said rather softly.

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 everything by the closet.

“We can unpack tomorrow.”

“Agreed.”

And then he said, “I’m going to give you to the count of three.”

“For what?”

He answered by pulling me onto the bed and covering 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 went up to the Bronx to his gym, 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’s past. Most who attended these fights were only interested in the fighting. It seemed like the perfect place to meet with our PI.

My uncle had been very receptive to helping us.

Trace gripped my hand firmly in his as we made our way through the mass of people. He had no problem at all seeing over people. I felt the light pull on my arm and knew he had found my uncle.

A few minutes later we reached a clearing in the crowd and there he was.

“Uncle Josh.”

He turned and smiled. “Ember.” He pulled me into a hug. “I was so happy to get your call.”

He turned to Trace. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, sir.”

“So tell me what is it you need me to do.”

A week later I was working at Charles’s campaign headquarters, when I happened to glance up to see Vivian Michaels walking toward me. As usual, she made the picture-perfect image of a campaign wife with her St. John’s blue-silk suit and Tory Burch ballerina slippers. Her blond hair was upswept, her makeup perfectly applied, and huge sapphires hung from her ears. I was curious as to what she wanted.

“Ember, it’s so nice to see you again.”

“Mrs. Michaels, hello.”

“Please, call me Vivian.” She settled into a chair next to me with such regal elegance she reminded me of a queen.

“I understand that you are dating my nephew, Trace.”

“Yes, I am.”

“The conflict between my husband and the last of his family has been going on for far too long. I was so hoping that you could talk with Trace and get him to agree to join us for dinner. We don’t have to have it at the house if it would be more comfortable for him to meet at a restaurant.” She touched my shoulder before she added, “You don’t have to answer right now. If Trace is anything like my husband, I understand your hesitation, but think about it, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.” She stood, smiled, and rested her hand on my shoulder. Her queenly pose didn’t flag for a second.

“I do hope we can all be friends, since we are family after all.”

And with that she breezed away—the faint scent of her Chanel No. 19 still lingering in the air. I sat there after she had gone, wondering, what the hell was the real purpose of that visit?

I thought about Vivian’s impromptu visit for the rest of the day and later, during my shift at Clover, I made the decision to not mention it to Trace just yet. There was enough going on that he didn’t also need to feel the pressure of getting reacquainted with absent relatives who, more than likely, were faking interest as a means to get close to him and possibly cause him harm.

I moved to the guests that had just been seated at one of my tables, and my heart lodged in my throat to see Dane and Heidi, Trace’s castoff/stalker. What the hell were they doing together?

As soon as Dane saw me, a smile spread over his face and to say it gave me the major creeps wasn’t an exaggeration.

“Ember Walsh, you’re looking particularly fine this evening.” He didn’t bother to hide a healthy ogle of my breasts before his eyes found mine again. “How have you been? You don’t call or write.”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

He lifted his water glass and eyed me from head to toe. “So professional.”

“I was truly sorry to hear about you and Trace. I thought if anyone could reach him it would have been you.” Heidi’s voice distracted me from Dane and when I looked at her I saw sympathy in her expression. Heidi practically ripped my head off when she was here with Trace and he paid me polite attention, and now her date was openly flirting with me and her response was pity?

What the hell were these two up to? Like she wanted me to make it work with Trace. The woman had a spy network around the man. How did she not know we were back together? A part of me was tempted to inform her, but it wasn’t any of their damn business.

Dane’s voice sent a chill down my spine when next he spoke.

“You can imagine my delight learning that your guardian is no longer an issue.”

His hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, which made me wince as I tried to pull free of him.

“I have every intention of finishing what we started.”

He sounded like a spoiled child. Heidi wasn’t looking sympathetic anymore, she looked like she wanted to reach across the table and wring Dane’s neck. Kyle appeared then with a glass of bourbon that he “accidentally” spilled in Dane’s lap.

Dane jumped up, cursing as Kyle offered an insincere apology. Without another word, Dane pulled Heidi from the restaurant.

What the hell had that been all about?

“Are you okay?” Kyle’s concern only served to freak me out further. What did he think was going to happen?

I touched Kyle’s arm. “Yes, but thank you.”

“I don’t like the look of him. That’s Dane, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t wrong, you need to be very careful with that one.”

His words echoed exactly what I was thinking when I released on a breath, “Don’t I know it.”

The maître d’ came over then and I thought for sure Kyle or I or both were going to be fired. He surprised me, though, when he also said, “Are you okay?”

“I am, but I’m sorry about the scene.”

He looked around the room. “A little spice is exactly what some of these people need.” And then he winked and went off to smooth any ruffled feathers.

I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly until I heard Kyle’s muffled laughter. “I didn’t expect that,” he said.

“You and me both. I thought for sure we were canned. Let’s get back to work before he changes his mind.”