Beautifully Damaged(114)

"What's their estimate for time?"

"...five months."

"So maybe we can open in early November?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

That night, I stood in Trace's corner with my dad and uncle watching Trace fight and I had to say I really loved seeing my name over his heart, and as petty as it was, I really liked that all the other babes in the room saw it, too.

Even better, between every round, he walked right over to me to kiss me, hard on the mouth, further staking his claim on me and mine on him. It wasn't even a year that we'd been together but he was so deeply entwined in my life that I couldn't imagine life without him.

As I considered that, I had a passing thought of Lena. I wondered if she was still with Todd: a more self-destructive relationship I never saw. To think that Todd and Dane, on paper, were perfect with their ivy-league educations and prosperous families yet Trace was by far the superior man and human being. Maybe Trace was finally seeing that -- seeing that he wasn't who he was because of his background but despite it.

Trace approached me in that loose-limbed stride of his. I knew he won the match but I wasn't thinking about that as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. There was a smile on his face, when he pulled back, as he reached up to touch my face with his fingers.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I love you."

He reached for my hand that wore his ring and pressed a kiss to it. "I love seeing you wear this."

"I love wearing it."

Rafe walked over grinning like a fool. "I'm the best man, Ember."

I looked at Trace. "You asked him?"

"He didn't really give me the chance, nagging me like a school girl. I finally relented because I couldn't take it anymore."

Despite his words, he was looking at Rafe with affection. I had learned from Trace that Rafe was the first person he had met when he moved to New York at the tender age of fifteen. They were both family-less, and on their own, so desperation brought them together but friendship kept them together. Rafe had also been integral in not only getting Trace and me together but keeping us together. I couldn't think of a better man to stand up with Trace at our wedding.

"We need to set a date, Ember," Trace said.

"...I'm for as soon as possible but the chapel isn't available until October."

"October what?"

I glanced over at my dad before I answered Trace, "...31st."

"Done."

I looked up at that. "Seriously, you're okay with getting married on Halloween?"

"Absolutely."

My dad hollered like a cowboy as he reached for his phone. "I'll call the pastor."

I was smiling at my dad's enthusiasm when I turned my attention back to Trace and said, "We only have a few months to pull this off."

"As long as you say 'I do' I don't care about the details."

"I need a dress."

"I don't know, that number you wore on my birthday was really very nice."

I blushed and his eyes burned with fire. "Yes, that outfit with this blush, perfect."

"You are incorrigible."

"Only with you," he whispered before his mouth covered mine.

That night Trace, my dad and uncle sat in the living room watching a baseball game while I worked in the office. I was searching for wedding gowns. I had hoped to wear my mom's but she didn't have one. She and my dad had gone to the justice of the peace and so her gown had been a white sundress and her veil had been white daisies in her hair. I wanted the perfect dress that reflected me and so here I was Googling wedding gowns. I was grateful for the reprieve when my cell phone rang about an hour into my search. I glanced at the display and absently noted that the number was a private one.

"Hello."

There was no answer but I could hear the person breathing over the line. I waited for the person to apologize for calling the wrong number or just hang up but, no, whoever it was lingered on the line; it was more than a little creepy.

"Who's there?" I couldn't actually believe that I asked that since it was an exchange I'd seen countless times in slasher films and every time it just irritated the hell out of me. If the person wanted you to know who was on the other end of the line, they wouldn't be silent. I could only offer the excuse that I was a bit freaked out and so my brain was short circuiting; the experience gave me a whole new appreciation for the countless victims on the silver screen. I didn't say another word and hung up the phone.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


The prank calls continued over the next few days and so I needed to tell Trace. He was in his office when I entered and as soon as he saw me a smile touched his lips.

"Hello, beautiful."