He stepped to her and slowly pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Hope blossomed inside her. Maybe he really did forgive her. Maybe he’d give her another chance to get things right between them.
Trace slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Relief flooded Connie until he surprised her and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Not her cheek. Not her lips. But her forehead.
It was over.
They were done.
He was moving on.
When Trace dropped his hand and stepped back, the hurt in his eyes was almost her undoing. She would never forgive herself for accusing him. How could she have been so careless? How could she doubt him even for a minute when, in her heart, she trusted him more than she trusted anyone?
“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly.
Watching him walk out of the room and out of her life was like taking a butcher knife to the heart. Every nerve inside Connie went numb. Trace hadn’t been just her man. He was also one of her best friends. Now he was gone.
What have I done?
CHAPTER 24
The last few days had been hell, Trace thought. He hadn’t realized just how much Connie had become a part of him until the day after he walked out of the safe house. Since then, everything seemed duller. Quieter. Life wasn’t as fulfilling as it had been with her.
As he sat in his living room, playing his saxophone, the rich, sharp melody seeped into his soul, filling the emptiness in his heart. The last notes of Sam Smith’s “Stay with Me” flowed right into Whitney Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You.”
Trace closed his eyes and poured everything he was feeling into the instrumental. Love. Loss. Pain. Heartache. He knew he needed to get himself together and pull out of this slump. That was why he’d picked up his sax. Sorting out his feelings with music had always helped clear his head.
Connie was vulnerable. He knew that, especially after all that she’d been through lately, but her accusation cut deep. Trace hadn’t given her any reason to doubt him. He definitely hadn’t given her a reason to think that he’d stoop so low and go after her job. It pissed him off all over again just thinking about it. But he still loved her. He still wanted her in his life. He just didn’t know how to help her move on from past hurts.
He played the last verse of the song and didn’t stop even when his alarm system signaled he had company. Trace already knew it could only be one of a few people walking into his home without ringing the bell. Just as he hit a high note, his visitors came into view. Langston and Maxwell stood on the edge of the family room, looking at him as if he had two heads.
“Well, at least he’s gotten better at playing that thing,” Maxwell said and set two shopping bags on the dining table.
Langston just stared at Trace as if seeing him for the first time. Once the song ended, his brother started clapping. “I’ll have to tell the family that you finally learned how to play,” he said and dropped down on the leather sectional.
Trace unhooked his saxophone from the strap and set the instrument back in its stand without commenting.
“It’s bad enough I had to work a double,” Langston continued and stretched out his legs before folding his arms across his chest. “But to get a call telling me that your ass is missing made the day that much longer.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m not missing. So who sent out the distress signal that has you both invading my privacy?”
“Trinity,” they said in unison.
“I should’ve known.”
Trace had left her a voice mail telling her that he was resigning his position at LEPA. Though a small part of his decision had to do with his relationship with Connie, she hadn’t been his sole reason. It was time for him to move on from security work and start his own business. He had enough money saved up to live comfortably for at least a year. Included with his verbal resignation, he had told Trinity that he’d be available to fill in on occasion when she couldn’t find anyone else.
As for him and Connie, Trace wasn’t giving up on their relationship. He had just needed a few days to regroup and make sure she was who he wanted to be with. He knew without a doubt that he didn’t want anyone else.
Maxwell pulled a six-pack of beer out of one of the bags, along with chips, dip and a host of other junk food. He handed a beer to Langston and then tossed one to Trace before sitting in the leather recliner near the window.
“Why are you guys really here?” Trace asked.
“I’m here because your neighbors called in complaints about noise coming from your unit,” Maxwell said with a straight face, but his lips started twitching. “They’re expecting me to give you a citation.”
“And I’m here to make sure you’re alive.”
“Well, I’m alive, and I’ll stop making noise. I guess that means you two can leave. Oh, and before you go, leave my house key on the table. It was supposed to be for emergency use only.”
Langston’s eyebrows drew together and he glared at Trace. “This was an emergency. Now quit being a jerk.”
“Fight nice, guys.” Maxwell took a long drag on his beer. “Since I don’t have any plans for the evening, I was thinking we can play poker. I figure since Trace is all up in his feelings, I might be able to win a hand or two and take his money.”
That made Trace laugh. Considering Maxwell’s best friend was a professional poker player, Max couldn’t play worth a damn.
“I ain’t that down-and-out. There’s no way you’re taking my money. Unless you brought Gunner with you, I’ll be a little richer before...”
The intercom buzzed, and Langston burst out laughing.
Maxwell
