“No,” Trace said, “he’s just a guy I know.”
She worked to hold back her fear and frustration. “I know you’re working really hard to get this done for me on time. And I know you’re under miserable financial constraints. I wish I could do something about that, but I can’t.”
Her mind was spinning, searching for solutions. But she saw Cody tumbling off the roof, imagined Trace almost following, and her heart skittered. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Does this JT guy know what he’s doing? Is it safe for him to be up on the roof alone? I’m not sure how we could fit it into the budget, but if we need another gu
y with experience to be up there with him, I’ll ask Phoebe for more money, because you’re not getting up there again.”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes and paced, suddenly overwhelmed again just when she thought she had her emotions under control. “Maybe Ethan can spare a few days. Maybe Delaney knows someone—”
Trace’s arms closed around her from behind. His arms doubled low on her waist and pulled her back against him. And oh, God, he felt so good. His big body pressed all along her back, her thighs.
The feel of someone holding her when she was worried. Supporting her when things got tough. It was so foreign. So good.
“I’ve got it under control,” he whispered at her ear, his voice rich and confident. A voice that shivered over her skin, tightened her chest, and created pressure between her legs—like the sexual version of the Pavlovian dog.
She grasped his arms with her hands, turned her head, and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Something really bad could have happened to you.” She sounded like a typical shaky female, but she didn’t care. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.” This coming from the woman who’d lived with the threat of losing her husband for eight years. She was beginning to wonder who in the hell she was. “Please don’t cut corners on safety. If you need something to be safe, just do it or get it or buy it. I’ll find the money somewhere.”
He pressed his face to her neck and sighed. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
Her heart softened. Emotion spilled over and tears pushed at her eyes. David hadn’t told her he’d missed her in years, even when he’d been gone for months on end. Being wanted enough to be missed filled Avery with a sense of completeness she’d always craved but had never been able to fill. And even though other men had expressed interest and wanted to continue dating her, only Trace’s desire quelled the longing to be loved.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted. This was so out of control. So not what either of them had planned. So not what either of them had wanted at the outset.
He lowered his head and whispered, “Kiss me, baby.”
Without hesitation, she turned her head and lifted her mouth, searching for the reassurance of his. His lips were warm and solid and, Lord, the man made her go soft. She relaxed against him, and he tightened his arms. She opened, stroking his lip with her tongue. Trace’s soft moan drifted into her mouth as he met her touch with the slow, gentle glide of his own tongue.
This, more than any words, conveyed his regret. Spoke to how much he’d missed her over their two days apart. Avery tried to rationalize her way through the situation, even as her heart stretched to open again after being cloistered. But she’d learned that rationale and emotion often lived in parallel universes, and trying to get them to mesh when they just wouldn’t was a losing battle. Like now.
When she let the resistance go, Avery lost herself in him. And her mind had drifted to thoughts of taking him upstairs for a quick reunion when Trace suddenly, almost violently, pulled away, stealing all his heat and support.
Stunned into confusion, Avery swayed. When she’d found her balance and turned toward him, she found Trace facing the front door. He pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned his butt against a table nearby. Before she could form a question, the squeak of the screen sounded and JT stepped in.
Trace looked as relaxed as if he were on a coffee break, but Avery wasn’t quite as masterful at pulling herself together. She rubbed a hand over one hot cheek, then over her beard-roughened mouth and looked at the floor.
“Uh . . . sorry to interrupt,” JT said in a hesitant voice that told Avery he’d clearly seen them kissing.
“You’re not,” Trace said, voice cold. “What do you need?”
“I’ve got that appointment with my PO today. You know how they tweak out if—”
“Go,” Trace cut him off. “And take the rest of the day.”
Avery glanced at Trace, trying to read him. She’d never seen him act this curt to anyone, and she’d seen him interact with a lot of people over the last two months. Including people he didn’t like. Unease spread through her stomach, killing all the heat he’d created.
“Sure,” JT said, but he was looking at Avery. And he was smiling in a way that made her feel dirty. “I get it. I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow.”
Silence filled the space as they watched JT stride to his old Toyota, try to start it up twice before the motor turned over, then drive away.
With a sick feeling in her stomach, Avery narrowed her eyes on Trace. “His PO? Is he talking about a parole officer?”
Trace’s jaw ticked, and he kept his gaze on the floor. “I only need him a few more days to get the roof done. The rain will be here soon. It would take me too long to find someone else. And as much as I want to do it myself, I can’t.”
Avery crossed her arms and paced to the window, anger doubling and tripling inside her. He’d brought a prison buddy into her café? That left a dark, icky feeling inside her—a little girl backed into a corner. A shadow on a dark street. Footsteps on the stairs in an empty house.
And when Trace had spent the last two months going above and beyond to make her comfortable throughout the process, she recognized that no matter how badly he needed this guy, bringing him here was out of character.