Page 39 of About Yesterday (Foothills #5)
Calm before the storm
T he stores gradually opened, tourists filtering in, cozy and romantic with that lazy weekend getaway sort of feel. Trace couldn’t remember the last time she’d stolen away on a getaway of any sort. That would definitely have to change.
Hand linked with Cole’s, they wandered through town. Freya and Haley waved to Trace from up the street, about to head into the clothing shop she’d had her eye on.
Trace held her hand up with all five fingers out in the universal symbol for “be there in five minutes.”
Cole turned and tugged her hips against his, one side of his grin lifting higher than the other, a subtle but irresistible expression that she’d finally realized meant that he was scheming something he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Instead of a quick kiss and running off to join the others, she was gripped by that weird clingy thing couples got, and she needed just a few more moments with him.
Melting into him, she thumbed his bottom lip and settled in for a delicious goodbye.
Even if it was only for half an hour or so.
Just ahead of them, Asher playfully whined about just getting it over with, but his parents said he needed to wait until this afternoon and make some sort of ceremony of it, no matter how simple, because it was a big deal.
Sophie rolled with it, and Trace could see the anticipation was probably a good thing.
Sophie distracted her fiancé by leaping on his back for a piggy back ride, legs ahead and arms wrapped around his shoulders, and they were laughing and being absolutely goofy.
Even an inch away suddenly seemed too far, and Trace tucked her pelvis tighter against Cole’s, shifting and entwining her hands around his waist, under his fleece quarter-zip sweatshirt.
Tipping a look so she could savor a shared moment, her gaze didn’t quite make it to his eyes, distracted by lips she knew kissed with patience and hunger and drove her to distraction.
Damn, that man had some nice lips. Where the rest of him held so many dark memories, his mouth was always curious, showing the playful side of him.
“What?” he asked, watching her watching him.
“I agree with Asher. Let’s get the wedding over with. So you and I can sneak back to the hotel,” she murmured.
Grinning and shaking his head at her, he relented to a laugh and looked beyond her at the goofy bride and groom. “I’ve waited a damn long time for you. What’s a few more hours?”
She rose to her toes and stole a lingering kiss.
Without pulling away, she whispered, “It’s like when you’ve spent all morning baking, and the cookies are finally out of the oven, and you know you should wait for them to cool, but they smell so good and you’ve waited so long already, that you risk the crumble and burns and you don’t even care that you’ve made a mess because you’re way too satisfied to care. ”
He laughed against her mouth, nuzzling and nipping sweet kisses. “I don’t disagree. If it wasn’t completely illegal, I’d do you right here in the middle of town.”
Her chest rumbled with a delicious laugh, her core stirring hotter and she gripped him tighter against her.
Cole held her close and shifted his hand over her rear and tugged her closer.
Kissing her harder, sweeter, he gave her a glimpse of how tonight was going to go.
A gust of wind rushed over them, rain dappling as it was carried from far away, the sky overhead staying mercifully dry.
Again, deeper, angling, he kissed her. “I want you so bad, Trace. I am warning you right now, that our first time is going to be short and hopefully sweet, but, well, picturing you naked with my cock involved, there’s likely to be a bit of a Pavlovian response. ”
Tightening her tummy from the force of her laugh, she tipped her head back and couldn’t hold back.
“Seriously. It was bad before, but then all that talk of black lace panties and blowjobs and against the door.” He groaned as he spoke and kissed a trail up her neck, searching for her mouth as her giggle turned into lust and she needed to drink him up.
“Maybe I’ll pick up something really daring from the shops.”
Tipping back, he bit his bottom lip and groaned and grinned and she absolutely couldn’t resist.
“Trace,” Haley shouted from across the street. “Plenty of time for that later.”
“Shit,” she muttered, cupping his cheek and rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip before pulling away.
He fluttered his eyes close for a brief moment, opening when she released.
Before she could say something to get him laughing again as she left, she realized his focus was sharp, and he was looking past her.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he answered vaguely. Shoulders back, keen eyes observing everything, he looked like the mercenary he wasn’t supposed to have to be anymore. He blinked and looked back at her, feigning a smile. “Fine. Just, I don’t know, I guess I haven’t been out of the house enough. Paranoid. That’s all.”
“Be safe, okay?” she said, brushing her lips over his again before crossing the street.
He nodded, already distracted.
She stole another glance back toward him from across the street and watched him stuff his hands into his pockets and walk in the general direction that some of the others had gone.
Haunted. That was it. It was like the boy she’d known had only honed those instincts sharper, funneling them into something lucrative and effective, instead of the troubled kid. If he couldn’t even relax for one weekend away, how was he going to settle for the long haul in Foothills?
Nope. Not thinking. Not dwelling.
She wandered into the store, and Freya and Haley already had several items tossed over their arms. Both smiled and waved with their free hands as she strolled in.
“You would look amazing in this,” Haley said, passing across a pale pink sweater with a very low back, so she’d have to go braless or wear a pretty bralette or something. How would it even stay on?
“I will try it on,” she said, wincing as she imagined where she would wear it, then kicked herself, remembering she was expanding her horizons.
Just because most of the residents of Foothills lived in fleece and hiking boots didn’t mean that she couldn’t have a little fun.
Haley and Freya always looked a step up, without looking out of place, so she could, too.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She hooked the sweater over her arm and checked the text.
From her mom, Ellen passing along a wedding cake emoji and a smiley face. Enjoying your trip? Is Cole relaxing at all?
Reality churned in her gut as she realized her parents were going to figure out that she was sleeping with Cole. Or, well, would be by the time she got home. She hoped. Shitty shit shit.
“Trace? What’s that look about?” Haley wandered over and glanced at her phone, the screen long since dark, but she held it up anyway.
“My mother. She texted a friendly check in.”
“What’s wrong with checking in with Ell—ooohhhh.” Haley bit her lips together and backed up a step. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks. You’re not helping.”
She hadn’t even realized Freya had been listening.
Sifting through a basket of scarves on the next display over, Freya said, “Bite the bullet and tell her you’re having a thing, or hide it until you’re more settled into the relationship?
Tough choice, as they’re both the wrong answer. I don’t envy you right now.”
Relationship. Crap. “All four hours of it. We should probably talk about it, so we’re on the same page.
” Ugh. She knew where he wanted to be, he’d made that clear, which would make it worse when his restlessness kicked in, then he’d feel guilty and torn and she’d feel sad and rejected and alone and they’d both be miserable.
Was it really worth leaping when there was a really good chance that there was no other side?
“No,” Haley said, urgently diving in as if Trace was about to step in a stinky pile of dog poo.
She held Trace’s phone out of reach and shook her head.
“Not yet. Don’t tarnish the lovely thing you have going by talking about it so soon.
Your mother, yes, she might be helpful. Cole?
No. Analyzing a relationship before it’s even a relationship will jinx it. ”
“Sometimes you have to wing it a while. Go with the flow. Honesty, yes, but don’t get all antsy about it. Let what will happen, happen.” Freya set a fluffy green scarf on the stack of try-ons Trace had stacked on her arm. “And buy your mother this scarf. Soften the blow in case she’s upset.”
Haley passed back the phone.
Trace glared at the screen. “She already thinks I’m going through a phase. She’ll freak. But I can’t not tell her.”
“Then tell her, but whatever you do, don’t Trace this one and bring it to safe levels before you can even take off.” Freya shook a finger at her, then got distracted by a pile of hats.
“What? I don’t. I mean, I do—“ Ugh. She wasn’t wrong. “So what do I do, jump him and then say, ‘this might have been a stupid idea, but, well, too late.’ Oh god, what if he still thinks of me as… because…”
Freya lifted an eyebrow and watched her over the shelf. “As…?”
“You know how people think of someone back home to get through a difficult time?”
“Oh, I see,” Freya said, grinning wide and mischief brewing in her look. “You were his raison d’être . His go-to for the wandering of his imagination when he needed something positive to think about. What a thing to tell a person. That’s really pressuring.”
Trace nodded and sank further. “I’m glad he told me. But I was trying to give him time to see me as the real me, and time for him to get back on his feet—literally.”
“He’s walking pretty smoothly these days,” Haley said.
Freya rounded the shelf and stopped next to Trace, folding her hands across her chest and leaning against the ledge. “It’s pretty obvious you two are into each other. In the here and now.”