“Connie,” Trace said, his voice raised as if he had already called her name several times. He was standing directly in front of her, and the worry radiating in his eyes made her stomach drop. He cupped her face between his hands and moved closer, their noses almost touching. “I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but nothing’s going to happen to you,” he said, his voice only loud enough for her to hear.
She nodded. The conviction in Trace’s voice helped settle her nerves. One thing was for sure, though. Until all of this was over, she was glad he would be by her side.
CHAPTER 14
Days later, Connie stood in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the wall near her walk-in closet. She almost didn’t recognize herself. For the first time in days, she felt physically good. No aches. No swelling. No stinging from scraped skin.
It was the night of the celebrity fashion show, and Connie had just slipped into her dress, which Trinity had talked her into buying a few weeks ago when they’d gone shopping. She twisted and turned in front of the mirror, loving the way the lightweight, flowy material moved. The pearl-white, backless outfit had a plunging neckline and hit just above her knees. It was definitely bolder than she would normally wear, but now that she was planning to attend with Trace, she was glad she had purchased it.
She turned one more time, glancing over her shoulder. “Damn, I look hot.” She giggled, unable to help herself. The squats and lunges that she had incorporated into her workout were definitely paying off. Her butt looked incredible, if she did say so herself. Trace’s eyes were going to fall out of his head when he saw her in the dress.
The thought made her grin harder, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to tempt her bodyguard. As she double-checked her makeup, Connie thought about how much she was really enjoying having Trace by her side. It didn’t feel like he was there to protect her. It was more like they were dating, which was fine with her. She was getting tired of skirting her attraction to him. It was time to let down her guard and allow their relationship to progress organically. She knew there’d be moments when her nerves would get the best of her. Not because of her feelings for Trace, but because the bank robbery and the subsequent murder were still plaguing her mind.
Trinity’s brother, Maxwell, had looked into the case and found out that Janel had been planning to turn herself in to authorities. According to her, one of the robbers was an ex-boyfriend who’d been blackmailing her into helping him. She had two semesters of nursing school left, and he had threatened to send a sex tape that she hadn’t known he’d made to the dean of her college.
According to Maxwell, Janel had never expected anyone to get hurt during the robbery. She panicked and ran when she learned that law enforcement knew of her involvement. Afraid her ex would find her before the cops, she agreed to turn herself in. Unfortunately, it seemed the criminals got to her before she could give the detectives on the case any names.
After leaving Trinity and Gunner’s house the other night, Trace had stopped home and packed a bag. He’d stayed with Connie every night since then, and she was glad that he didn’t seem to mind. They’d gotten into a good rhythm while sorta-kinda living together. They hadn’t shared a bed since that first night at his place, but they’d shared plenty of kisses.
Connie glanced at the clock on the nightstand and gasped. They needed to head out; she didn’t want to miss the preshow cocktail party and dancing before the fashion show.
She slipped into her four-inch strappy sandals, grabbed her small, bejeweled purse and wrap, then left the bedroom. The house was quiet, but she knew Trace was there somewhere.
Connie made her way to the living room and pulled up short. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her.
“Wow” was all she could say when her gaze landed on Trace leaning against the fireplace mantel. He looked like a GQ cover model ready for his next photo shoot. The man was already gorgeous on any given day, but seeing him in a black, satin-lapel tuxedo was like looking at a Nubian prince.
Her gaze traveled back up his body and took in every detail of her date for the evening. The cut of the tuxedo emphasized his broad shoulders and the way his body tapered down to a narrow waist. He was over six feet tall, but his legs seemed even longer in the tuxedo pants with satin stripes down the sides. Trace might’ve had confidence issues back in high school, but right now, he appeared poised and in charge.
“You are absolute perfection,” Connie finally said.
Trace straightened and was checking her out the way she had just done to him. “And you’re sexy as hell. Damn, girl. I’m going to be spending all my time tonight fighting off brothas who’ll be trying to step to you.”
Connie waved him off. “Oh, please. With the gorgeous models on center stage strutting their stuff, ain’t nobody gon’ be thinking about me.”
“I disagree.” Trace walked in a circle around her and cursed under his breath when he saw the back of the dress. “You’re absolutely stunning, but this dress, though...”
Connie tried to fight the smile that was threatening to burst free, but she couldn’t. She loved his reaction.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“Yeah, the car should be here in a few minutes.” Trace checked his phone.
They were using a car service to
