Beautifully Forgotten (14 page)

“Can I help you?”

“I need to see Dane.” He knew that voice. Heidi.

“May I ask what you want?”

“As if it is any of your business.”

Outrage made Lena’s cheeks burn, which earned her a laugh from Heidi. “Relax, I don’t want to fuck him, I just need to talk to him.”

Dane stepped into view and glared at Heidi. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve got some news to share.”

“No. I told you already I’m out. It was fun for a while, but you’re going too far. I’m done. Don’t come around here anymore.”

“Coward.”

“You should be a bit more cowardly.”

Heidi dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand before she started for the door. “Whatever. Don’t come to me when you see how much you lost out on.”

“Believe me, I won’t.”

Dane closed the door at her back and leaned up against it.

“What was that all about?” Lena asked.

“You don’t want to know, trust me.”

Trace watched Ember talking with her father and uncle.

They were having their monthly dinner party, an event that Trace found he actually enjoyed. His focus moved to the older men’s faces and knew it wasn’t going to be long before both of them made their way over to him. Hugging was something he still hadn’t gotten accustomed to, but Ember and her family did it often.

She laughed and brushed a rogue lock of hair from her face, her wedding rings sparkling on her finger. Possession filled him and he started over to her just as his cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. He was about to let it go to voice mail, determined to pull his wife into his office for a few minutes of privacy, but something made him reach for it.

“Trace,” he said.

“We need to talk.”

Anger surged in him even as apprehension filled him. It was Heidi, and this was the fourth time she’d called him this week.

He moved down the hall to his office and shut the door behind him. “I told you to stop calling me.”

“I need money.”

Trace’s heart stopped as a moment of guilt twisted his gut. He hardened his tone. “Not my problem.”

“It will be if you don’t help me.”

“How exactly?”

“How’s Ember?”

Rage burned through him, but his voice was controlled when he said, “You are playing a very dangerous game, Heidi. Stay the fuck out of my life and away from my wife.”

“You’ve never told her about us. Why?” Her voice turned pouty before she said, “I think there’s a part of you that misses me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I need money and you’ll give it to me or I’ll tell her everything.”

“You tell my wife anything and I’ll make sure they never find the body. You hear me?”

She was silent for a moment, but when Heidi finally spoke up her voice was less sure. “Two thousand by next Friday.”

She hung up, but she knew damn well that he’d pay it. He had deluded himself into believing that his past was finally in the past. Since he’d married Ember, everything seemed to have settled. But Heidi was never going to go away and so once again his past was staring him in the fucking face.

He took a few minutes to calm down. Hearing a light knock on the door, he tried to school his expression just as Ember appeared.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, a business thing.”

She studied him a moment before she asked, “You sure everything is okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” And then to change the subject, he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

He touched her hair, needed to feel those silky strands beneath his fingers. Even after everything they’d been through, she blushed over a compliment.

“Thank you.”

She smiled and pressed her mouth to his. His arms tightened around her just as she said, “Our guests are going to start talking.”

“Let them fucking talk,” he said as he pulled her in for another kiss. He was tempted to push her up against the wall and sink himself into her, but the thought of her father and uncle in the other room dampened his ardor. She knew where his thoughts were, and not just because he was as hard as a pike.

“I’m feeling the need for a back washing later,” she whispered.

“Oh hell yeah.” He kissed her hard and then put some distance between them before he threw caution to the wind.

He started for the door. “A back washing, a front washing . . .” He looked back at her, only to see her blushing.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart, or we aren’t leaving this room.”

“How do you do that?”

“What?” he asked.

“Turn it on so fast.”

“It’s not fast, Ember, I want you twenty-four seven.”

“Now I need to splash my face with cold water.”

“You do that and I’ll go stick my head in the freezer.” He was halfway out the door when he looked back at her and winked before disappearing down the corridor.

Trace was talking with Rafe when Ember reappeared, and based on her lack of makeup, she really had splashed her face with water. He was about to walk over and whisper something suggestive in her ear when the doorbell sounded. He changed course and answered the door to see Lucien, carrying a present wrapped in silver with a white bow. The oddness of the picture made Trace ask almost harshly, “What the hell is that?”

“My laundry. What the hell do you mean what’s that? It’s a hostess gift, you moron.”

Ember appeared then, pulling the door open wider as she bestowed a smile on Lucien. Trace’s jaw clenched.

“Lucien, hi. Please ignore this lug and come in. Can I take that?”

“Let the lug take it.” Lucien didn’t even bother waiting for his friend’s reply before he thrust the gift into Trace’s hands. To be a dick, he reached for Ember’s hand, and brushed his lips across her knuckles before lacing her hand through the crook of his arm. He looked at Trace over Ember’s head and was happy to see that his flirting had hit its mark. A smug grin played over his mouth. Trace would get him back later for that, but it had been so worth it.

Ember walked him to her father just as Trace appeared and deftly inserted himself between Lucien and Ember.

“Lucien, how are you, son?”

Lucien grinned at Shawn, ignoring Trace, and extended his hand. “I’m good, sir, and you?”

“Wonderful.”

Lucien watched as Trace drew Ember back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. For a moment, they weren’t Trace and Ember, but him and Darcy, a vision of what could have been had their lives gone differently. It was in that moment he was able to admit to himself that he never dated seriously because none of the women in his life were Darcy. He didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, but thankfully he didn’t have to think too long on it, because Chelsea appeared and took his hand and said, “Come and see my room. I painted it purple.”

The following morning, Trace walked up the two floors to the small apartment in the Village that he’d bought five years earlier. He rarely came here; he didn’t see a need to twist the knife in any more than necessary, but Heidi had gone too far. He had been willing to take on the responsibility he found dumped at his feet, but he wasn’t willing to do so at the cost of his wife. No fucking way.

He unlocked the apartment and wasn’t surprised to see the ice princess lying on the sofa watching television. Her pale eyes found him and she sat up as a purely sexual smile curved her lips. Trace’s stomach turned.

“Where’s the boy?”

“Out,” she purred as she moved from the sofa, her dress barely covering her thighs. “Can you stay a while?” The implication was clear.

“This shit stops now, Heidi.”

She came to stop just in front of him, her lips pouting in an expression he supposed was meant to be a turn-on, but he felt his breakfast lurching up his throat. When her hands found his chest, he grabbed her wrists.

“I agreed to help, but you threaten me and we’re done. The only one who stands to get hurt in all of this is the boy. I would think that as his mother, you’d be more motherly.”

She pulled from him and hissed, “I never wanted the little beggar, but he comes from a wealthy family. You don’t toss that kind of good fortune away.”

“You fucking bitch.”

“I’m serious, Trace. You might not like that, or me, but you don’t have a choice. We’re family, whether you want to admit it or not.” She sat on the arm of the sofa and spread her legs, her thong barely covering her assets. “Besides, you took us on.”

“I don’t know what it is you think you stand to gain from this, but I promise you it will not end the way you hope.”

“Oh Trace. Don’t worry about me. As long as those checks keep coming regularly, we’re good.” She ran her finger up her thigh. “If you wanted to take some of the money out in trade, I’m always up for that.”

“Never going to fucking happen.”

“Whatever.”

At that moment the door opened as a boy of about sixteen entered. Every time Trace saw him, he felt a searing pain in his chest. The black hair and blue eyes . . . the boy was almost his mirror image.

“Hey, Trace.”

“Seth, how are you doing?”

“Good. Got to eat, though, and get to my homework.”

Trace watched as Seth disappeared into his room. He never once looked at his mother and it was that, more than anything, that left Trace with a sour taste in his mouth. He knew how it felt to be neglected. Guilt twisted inside him just as Heidi said, “He looks just like you.”

“Fuck off.” Trace slammed the door behind him. What was that expression Lucien was forever saying?
Lie down with dogs and get up with fleas
. Fuck if that wasn’t true.

D
arcy arrived to work at eight in the morning. It had been a week since Lucien had given his goofy instructions and since they seemed to be enjoying a truce, she decided he wouldn’t object to a bit of humor. She’d stopped at one of the junk shops near her apartment and bought Lucien the biggest mug she could find. It said, “I ♥ Coffee.”

She dropped her bag at her desk and headed to the kitchen. She set the coffee machine and then stood with mug in hand, tapping her foot, waiting for the coffee to finish. Not only did Lucien not like coffee, but the idea of it fixed with sugar and cream turned his stomach, so naturally she added four heaping tablespoons of sugar to the mug and filled it with enough cream to make it look like vanilla ice cream.

Trying very hard to keep the smile from her face, she knocked when she reached his office.

“Come in.”

“Your coffee,” she said in way of greeting.

He looked up, his eyes on her for a minute before they moved to the mug in her hand. He was trying, and she gave him points for a valid effort, but the grin cracked over his face nonetheless. He leaned back in his chair just as Darcy placed the mug in the middle of his desk.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes met his and for just a second she saw her Lucien—the beautiful, serious boy with eyes that saw far more than they should. As if lured by a favorite tune, just looking into his unguarded expression swept her back to a time when she’d still believed in happily-ever-afters. But of course they weren’t real, as she’d learned all too well. She started from his office.

“Darcy.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, before she glanced at him over her shoulder.