Beautifully Damaged(32)

"Thank you. This is delicious."

"My pleasure, Ember."

I pulled my feet up under me as I held his gaze. "So, Trace what are your thoughts on Clark W. Griswold?"

His laughter filled the silence.

The next morning, I awoke but it took me some time to climb from such a really comfortable bed. I eventually padded to the bathroom and took care of business before heading to the kitchen to make some coffee but stopped just at the threshold of the kitchen because Trace was there with his bare back to me. My word, I really loved looking at his body. His jeans hung low on his hips as thick ropes of muscles framed his spine. His shoulder blades were huge and his waist narrow. The tattoo started mid-back and moved up in a swirling scroll-work pattern over his shoulders and up his neck. As he moved, his muscles made it seem like the artwork was dancing along his skin.

He must have sensed me and turned to see me staring. That I wasn't drooling was remarkable. His gaze was hot and intense as his eyes moved from my head down my body. Though he wasn't touching me, my body tingled as if he was. When his eyes found mine, again, they were darker and his voice, when he spoke, was hoarse.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. It's a very comfortable bed."

Since I blushed and he grinned, I knew that we both had the same thought: us, that bed, naked. He seemed to recover faster than me. He leaned against the counter and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and the sight of that gorgeous chest, his rock-hard abs and those magnificent arms with his triceps bulging from his stance had me biting the inside of my mouth to keep myself from doing something stupid, like whimper.

"I thought we could go over to your apartment and get your stuff."

I didn't say anything but, clearly, the man was a mind reader when his eyes narrowed and he shook his head ever so slightly.

"You aren't going there alone, Ember."

"It's my apartment."

He only responded by shaking his head.

"I've lived there with no problems for over a year."

No response as he just stood there looking at me in an alpha-male sort of way.

"You're not going there alone."

I could tell from the thin line of his lips and the determined look in his eyes that he wasn't going to back down, so I threw up my arms in defeat. "Fine."

He accepted victory graciously as he watched me in that silent way of his, and then he asked, "How about if I make us some eggs?"

It wasn't even a conscious thought as I took a step closer to him and smiled.

"That would be great."

Retrieving my things was uneventful since no one was home. After the previous night, I imagined Dane was already south of the border and Todd, well, he was probably hiding behind Lena. I liked seeing Trace in my apartment, watching him touch my things as he helped me pack.

"I'll call a Realtor and have them start looking for something for me."

"I have a spare bedroom, Ember, there's no reason why you can't stay with me."

"I don't want to cramp your style."

He held my gaze before he replied, "You won't."

The thought of seeing him everyday almost had me jumping up and down. It was a pretty big jump, considering we hadn't known each other all that long, but I didn't care.

"Thank you, Trace, but if my presence becomes a problem please tell me."

"That could never happen, Ember."

The following morning, Trace woke me from a sound sleep with breakfast in bed. It was a treat waking up to that face and even more so when he laid the tray down to help settle me against the headboard. He placed the tray on my lap and lay next to me to watch as I ate. After a few mouthfuls, I scooped up some eggs and offered them to him and he didn't hesitate to open wide, which made me smile.

"Thank you. I haven't had breakfast in bed since my ninth birthday when my dad brought me a Belgian waffle, smothered in strawberries and whipped cream." I lifted my eyes to him before I asked, "What are your plans for the day?"

"I need to get groceries. Maybe you could come with me."

"I'd like that."

Food shopping with Trace was definitely an experience. He tended to buy things in bulk and I understood this as I looked at him. His size alone requires him to eat at least twice what a normal person would. To watch him eat, you would never believe that he hasn't an ounce of extra flesh on his frame. Another interesting observation was people's reactions to him because he really was a sight with his dark beauty and his six-feet-four-inches of muscles and tattoos. Seeing him in all his hard-ass glory while he looked at the nutritional information on a box of cookies was so freaking adorable.

We were standing in the baked-goods section where I discovered that Trace has a sweet tooth. While looking at the case filled with sweet treats, he asked, "What do you like better, cakes or pies?"