“Don’t... Please...don’t. I love you...”
Trace could barely make out her muffled words, but he heard what was most important. She loved him, too.
A month later...
“Oh, Trace. This is lovely,” Connie said in awe when she stepped out on the patio of their beach villa. They were vacationing in the Bahamas, and it was their first day there.
The night air was warm and a little muggy as the waves crashed against the rocks, and a slight breeze kissed her heated cheeks. Connie always thought the balcony at his condo was the most peaceful place. But she had to admit, since being on vacation, their little slice of beach paradise was a close second.
She glanced around the patio, noting the areas that Trace had transformed. Clearly, he’d had help. Small twinkling lights had been hung on the side of the villa, just over the door and windows that faced the ocean. The table for two, covered in a white tablecloth with a large votive candle flickering in the middle, illuminated just enough for her to see the covered dishes. On the other side of the patio were two massage beds covered with white sheets. Soft jazz pierced the night, and Connie felt like she was in paradise.
“This is absolutely amazing.”
“I figured we’d eat first,” Trace said, pulling out a chair for her. “Then I have a couple of masseuses coming to give us a massage.”
He claimed the seat across from her and poured two glasses of champagne.
“Shall we make a toast?” Connie asked, holding up her glass. They’d been through so much together in the last six weeks, she felt they could handle anything going forward.
“We’re toasting to love, to perseverance and to happily-ever-afters. I love you, sweetheart, and I know we’re going to have an incredible life together. Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
“I love you more, and I appreciate you coming to my rescue and for being here for me every step of the way,” she said and clinked her glass to his before they took a sip.
When Trace suggested they get away for a few days, Connie had had no idea that, with Trinity and Erica’s help, he had already planned the trip. The itinerary covered ten days. The first seven days were just for the two of them to decompress, lie out on the beach and continue getting to know each other. They’d decided to slow down and get their relationship on track before thinking about marriage and a family. Connie had no doubt that they’d get there.
They were officially dating, and every day, she fell more and more in love with her man. Each day he did or said something that assured her that he was perfect for her, and that he would always protect her. She never knew it was possible to love someone so much and so completely until she’d met Trace.
The last three days of their trip would be spent with Trace’s father and his father’s girlfriend. Connie couldn’t wait to meet the man who had raised four children as a single parent.
“Now, for dinner,” Trace said, interrupting her thoughts. With a wave of his arms, he dramatically removed the stainless-steel plate covers. “Ta-da!”
Connie stared at the table. French toast. Sausage. Hash browns. “Oh, Trace,” she cooed, her hands on her chest. “I can’t believe you remembered. Breakfast for dinner. My favorite.”
“That’s not all.” He ran into their villa and returned with a plastic container.
Her mouth dropped open. “No... Those aren’t your to-die-for cookies, are they?”
“They are,” he said, grinning, and set the container on a cabinet next to the table.
“How? How did you do all of this? We haven’t even been here twenty-four hours. And the cookies? I know you didn’t have them when we first arrived.”
“Never mind how—just dig in. Our masseuses will be here in forty-five minutes.”
As Connie looked back over the last six weeks, so much of it seemed like a bad dream. The bank robbery and Richard’s murder had started a snowball effect. Before she knew it, she’d been living a nightmare.
It had been like something out of a thriller novel, and Connie was glad it was over. It still blew her mind that the gray-eyed man, Daniel, the one she had seen at the bank, had an identical twin. She’d been shocked to learn that there were two of them, and the only difference in their appearance was that David, the model, didn’t have any visible tattoos.
David was by far the evil twin, as far as Connie was concerned. During his interrogation, he had admitted to setting her house on fire and tracking her down the day before he confronted her at the theater. Knowing that she could’ve died at his hands was still unnerving. She didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Trace hadn’t gotten to her in time.
Now that Daniel and David were behind bars, she could breathe easier. They were waiting to stand trial, and with all of the charges against them—robbery, murder and attempted murder, to name a few—it was safe to say that they’d be in jail for the rest of their lives.
Trace and Langston were officially in business together. After Trace resigned from LEPA, a couple of weeks later, Langston left the FBI. They were in talks with Trinity about building a partnership with LEPA and their own PI agency. Of course, she loved the idea, but had one stipulation for the guys—they both had to agree to fill in if ever she was short of security specialists. They agreed.
All of their lives were moving forward. Connie was still living in the safe house, but she and Trace were discussing moving in together. No time soon, but the idea was on the table.
“I guess the only thing missing is Vinnie Montell,” Trace said with a
