Beautifully Damaged

by L. A. Fiore

  "Please, Trace."

  "I don't know, Ember."

  "Why?"

  "What if it doesn't go the way you think it will?"

  "Oh, I've no doubt of the outcome."

  "How?"

  "Because I love you."

  I saw surprise cross over his features first and then his expression softened as he walked from across the room to pull me into a hug as he pressed a kiss to my temple.

  "Okay."

  I smacked a kiss on his lips before I walked to the phone and dialed my dad. I looked over at Trace who was watching me with a slight smile on his face and his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

  "Hey, Daddy."

  "Emmie. How are you, sweetheart?"

  "I'm great. I'm bringing someone home for Thanksgiving."

  "Lena?"

  "No, you were right about her."

  "Ah, Em, are you okay? I know she meant a lot to you."

  "Well, I was misguided but, yes, I'm fine. Anyway, the person I'm bringing home is Trace, and Daddy, I love him."

  Silence greeted that comment as Trace turned into the wall and started banging his head into it.

  "What? Didn't I do that right?"

  At the same time both my dad and Trace said, "No."

  I couldn't help the giggle because they really were so much alike.

  "Could I talk to your dad, Ember?" Trace asked.

  "Daddy, Trace wants to talk with you."

  I handed him the phone and took a step back to listen.

  "Hello, Mr. Walsh. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Completely, totally, hopelessly. Thank you, sir. Goodbye, sir."

  I just stood there, with an odd look on my face, as Trace hung up the phone and started from the room.

  "Wait, what did he say?"

  He turned then and I didn't miss the grin tugging at his mouth.

  "He asked if I rode a motorcycle and told me I would rent a car to bring his baby girl home. He told me that, under his roof, we'll have separate bedrooms and that everyone chips in with cooking and cleaning up."

  "And?"

  He leaned up against the door frame as he rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Was there something else?"

  "Trace?"

  And then those steely blues looked right into mine as all traces of humor were replaced with a quiet sincerity, "He asked me if I loved you and I told him 'totally, completely, hopelessly'."

  I knew I looked like an idiot as a big, goofy smile spread over my face as Trace looked at me with tenderness and when next he spoke there was equal parts wonder and disbelief in his tone.

  "...and then he welcomed me to the family."

  Tears filled my eyes at the look of Trace's face and in that moment, I really hated his family. They deprived him of affection and nurture leaving this wondrous man shocked that he could be loved and at the same time doubting that he deserved to be loved. If it took me the rest of my life, he would know that he was both deserving and worthy of love. Thinking about all of the ways I had to show him love put the smile back on my face.

  "Why are you smiling?"

  "You're going to really like my family."

  A few nights later, Trace and I were home playing The Game of Life on the Wii and I was just not having any luck. My game-world husband looked like a serial killer and though I went to college, incurring a hundred-thousand dollars of debt, I ended up losing my job and became a lounge lizard. Trace, on the other hand, was a doctor, had a beautifully exotic wife, and lived in a mansion. I owed money on every space that I landed while Trace was given money on each of his, thus confirming for me that some people really do walk in the light.

  Spinning a six would land me five-hundred-thousand dollars so I concentrated really hard as I rolled, hovering my finger over the button to try and force it to stop on six but instead of a six I got a seven. I fell backwards against the sofa in defeat.

  "I have the worst luck."

  Trace was unusually quiet so I turned to look at him and, oh my, but I would like to recant my last statement. The man was leaning against the sofa with his legs crossed and his arm such that his head could rest against his fisted hand. The look on his face had my toes curling. Without speaking a word, he pulled me lower on the sofa so that his body could cover me. For a moment he was utterly still as he looked his fill until his mouth lowered and captured mine.

  His kiss was different, more demanding, causing my body to burn. A slow heat started somewhere in the vicinity of my heart before fanning out to sizzle along every nerve-ending. His hands moved over me, stroking, caressing, claiming, and when he sought and found the bare skin of my stomach, I moaned deep in my throat. He brushed against the side of my breast and I pushed myself against his hand as desire pooled in my belly. My hands did as they had wanted from the very first time I met him running up his arms, over the bulge of his biceps, along his wide, solid shoulders, and down his back, following the corded muscles that framed his spine. They moved lower over his ass and he moved, rolling his hips that were cradled between my thighs. The most intense and magnificent sensation rocked through me and he growled low in his throat before he moved with surprising speed, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the bedroom.

  He placed me on the bed with such care and his eyes stayed on me as his fingers worked the snap of my jeans. He held my heated gazed as he slowly moved the denim down my legs before dropping my jeans to the floor. I couldn't describe the feelings burning through me; there were too many.

  My hooded gaze stayed fixed on his and I saw him grin just as he gripped my ankles. Slowly he moved those wonderful hands up my legs, over my calves, my knees, my thighs until he reached the elastic of my panties. His finger slipped under to run a trail against the delicate skin and I practically jerked right off the bed. He continued his journey up and over my stomach to my ribs and when he reached my breasts, I sucked in a breath as his hands closed over those aching peaks to caress and tease. His mouth replaced his hands and I moaned in pleasure, pushing my heels into the mattress as my hands moved to hold his head steady while I lifted myself up offering him more.

  I then got it, the allure of sex; yep, I so understood. His wide and wild eyes found mine as he pulled my shirt up over my head and moved his hands down my body to grip the silk of my panties. Our eyes were locked as he pulled that swatch of silk down my legs. My heart galloped in my chest from the look on his face seeing me completely exposed to him.

  He gripped the back of his shirt and pulled it forward over his head before discarding it to the floor. His hands moved to the snap of his jeans where he lingered for a moment pulling my heated gaze from the hard ridge pressing against his fly to his face only to see the grin that tugged at his mouth as he teased me.

  As he pulled his jeans down his legs, I saw all of him, gloriously naked and aroused, and for a moment, I panicked over whether it was actually going to fit. He seemed to understand my concern when a smile curved his lips.

  "Don't worry, it'll fit love."

  "God, I hope so."

  He laughed as he reached to his bedside table for a box of condoms.

  "Don't."

  His eyes flew to mine and the look in them had my toes curling. "It's for your safety."

  "Have you ever not used a condom?"

  "No, never."

  "I'm on the pill, Trace, to control my period. For my first time, I want to feel you." My eyes moved to his very impressive appendage before I added, "...all of you."

  He stilled as an expression that I couldn't quite discern covered his face. "You're a virgin?"

  Oops, I forgot to mention that. "Yes, but please don't stop, Trace."

  The look on his face changed to one of tenderness followed by possession as he pounced, covering me so that every naked, hard inch of his body was pressed against every soft inch of mine. Hands and mouths moved everywhere as we touched and tasted each other until I thought I was going to explode from the tension that was building to a pleasantly painful peak. I felt
him start to push into me and I tensed.

  "Relax, Ember, let me in sweetheart."

  I tried but it felt so weird until he started to kiss me with long, drugging kisses having had the effect of not just relaxing me but also making me needy. Trace knew it, too. With a powerful thrust of his hips, he took my virginity and embedded himself fully inside of me. The movement caused a wicked sharp pain that brought tears to my eyes. He held himself perfectly still as his fingers brushed the tears from my cheeks.

  "Your body just needs to adjust to me."

  "It hurts."

  "I know, baby."

  And then he distracted me from the pain between my thighs as his hot mouth closed over my breast. He continued to suckle me and I needed to move, needed to feel him move, so I lifted my hips and that was all the encouragement Trace needed. He moved slowly at first until he felt me tightening, my body aching almost to the point of pain, as I begged for something that was just within my reach.

  "Please, Trace." He moved then, harder, deeper and faster until I literally shattered and my climax brought on his as he closed his eyes seconds before he roared my name as his body spasmed with his own release. His eyes opened to find me looking at him and then I wiggled my hips as I purred, "Again."

  "Minx." But that one word was said with such affection as he rolled over taking me along for the ride.

  Fishtown, a tight-knit Irish community, was heading in the direction of its neighbor on the west, Northern Liberties, with a wave of urban renewal as new businesses made Fishtown their home. The Cadillac Escalade that Trace rented for our trip home was very luxurious but it was also a gas guzzler. I turned in my seat before I asked, "Why did you rent something so big? It's like a tank."

  He spared me a glance, a grin flirting over his very sexy mouth, before he offered, "Because it's like a tank."

  Understanding dawned as a smile spread over my face. "You're nervous about meeting my dad?"

  I noticed his hands were gripping the steering wheel with such force that they were almost white and, when I looked at his profile, I saw his jaw clenching. Hoping to ease his anxiety, I reached over and touched his jaw, having somewhat relaxed him, when he offered quite softly, "I've never been brought home to meet the family, never wanted to before, so it's a bit stressful when the first time I do is with the only one who matters."

  "I've never brought a boy home, so, it's a first for both of us."

  His eyes found mine as a smile touched his lips and for just a second, we shared a moment. I saw a grin tug at his mouth before his eyes returned to the road.

  "...or maybe I'm intimidated. You know your dad and his dock-worker friends."

  "Tease all you want but my dad is going to love you and so are the guys. You're going to fit right in, Trace, trust me."

  At that moment, Candyman from Christina Aguilera came on and I started to sing along to it. I happened to glance at Trace, who had an odd expression on his face.

  "What's that look for?"

  He looked over at me and grinned. "It's nothing."

  "What?"

  "I was just thinking about you on stage in front of a crowded audience singing this song to me." And then a wicked little grin tugged at his mouth before he added, "...actually, to be more specific, this song with you dressed in some sexy leather number. God, that would be so hot."

  It had a snappy beat but the lyrics were, well, I was blushing just thinking about it, and then I managed, "I couldn't -- I mean I would have to be tripped out and completely bonkers to do that."

  He looked over at me and flashed me a prize winning smile. "I know. That's why it would be so hot if you did."

  We pulled up in front of my dad's row-house and there he was sitting on the front steps. He looked as he always had with his short, cropped hair, which was the same shade of brown as mine, and eyes that were more hazel than brown. Having worked on the docks, he was built a lot like Trace and even pushing fifty, he was still broad in the shoulders and narrow in the waist.

  Trace shut off the engine before looking over at me and for the first time, I saw a hint of panic in his expression. Why the sight of that made my heart melt, I couldn't say.

  "I love you, Trace Montgomery."

  "I love you, Ember Walsh."

  "Come meet my dad."

  Trace pressed a kiss in my palm before he climbed out of the car and came around to open my door. My dad moved from the front step to join us at the curb.

  "Emmie, my girl," And then I was wrapped in my dad's strong, familiar arms.

  "I've missed you, Daddy."

  "I've missed you, too."

  As we pulled away, I reached for Trace's hand and pulled him closer keeping my eyes on my dad's.

  "Dad, Trace Montgomery. Trace, my dad, Shawn Walsh."

  I watched as the two most important people in my life shook hands and took each other's measure.

  "It's nice to meet you, sir."

  "Call me Shawn, son." My dad's eyes moved to the car behind us before a smile cracked over his face and then his eyes returned to Trace's.

  "Couldn't you find anything bigger?"

  There was a moment of silence before Trace's head tilted back and he howled with laughter. Just like that, all of the tension just drained from him. Trace grabbed our bags before we followed my dad up the steps and into the house.

  "Emmie, you're in your room, Trace you are on the third floor." He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to Trace before he added, "The stairs creak."

  He said nothing more as he turned and continued up the stairs. I couldn't help the chuckle because Trace looked thoroughly chastised.

  Trace placed my bag on the floor near my bed before he followed my dad up to his room. A few minutes later there was a light knock on my door.

  "Come in, Daddy."

  He pushed the door open, and closed it behind him before he walked over to settle on the edge of my bed.

  "Where did you meet Trace?"

  "At a club. Someone was harassing me and he stepped in and knocked the guy's lights out. He, like you, pegged Lena's character." I moved to join my dad on the bed before I continued in a soft voice.

  "He never knew love as a child and something dark from his past has left him believing he is unworthy of love. He's a fighter and he's lethal with his hands."

  "I know. I've heard of him."

  That surprised me but I moved past that and continued on. "He's good, Daddy. He stands up for what's right and under it all, there's a man who is desperate for love, both giving it and receiving it. Next to you, he's the finest man I've ever known."

  My dad was silent for a moment which had me asking, "Do you think you could like him, Daddy?"

  He reached over to take my hand as his eyes held mine and then he said, "He brought you home in a tank and didn't argue being put up in the attic even though that boy could probably bench press me with little effort." A smile touched my lips thinking of that one day in the grocery store.

  "But mostly, Ember, when he looks at you, he reminds me of how I used to look at your mother so, yes, I can see myself liking him."

  I threw my arms around my dad and held him close as he whispered in my ear, "Welcome home, Emmie girl."

  My dad went downstairs to brew some tea and I continued putting my things away. There was a knock at the door and I called for Trace to come in. I gave myself a moment to look at him filling the doorway of my childhood room.

  "How's your room?"

  "I think if your dad could have gotten a cot on the roof he would have."

  "I'm his baby girl."

  "I know and that's why if he had gotten that cot on the roof, I would have slept on it with no complaints."

  "He likes you."

  His eyebrow rose at that. "How do you know that?"

  "He told me." I walked over to Trace, ran my hands up those arms, which, sadly, were covered under a sweater, before resting them on his shoulders.

  "He said that the way you look at me reminds him of how he used to
look at my mom."

  Trace's arms came around me then and, when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "If that look is the one where I can't believe that you're mine and I'd do anything to make you happy, then I'm guilty as charged."

  "All I need to be happy is you."

  "You have that, Ember, you already have that."

  Trace and I joined my dad in the kitchen where we all sat around the table drinking iced tea and discussing our plans for Thanksgiving.

  "How many are coming, Daddy?"

  "Four. Hank, Jimmy, Dougie and Jerry. I've got the turkey already defrosting in the refrigerator and bought the potatoes, string beans, cranberries and crescent rolls. Dougie's bringing the wine, Jerry's picking up some pies from Reading Terminal, Jimmy's picking up some pastries from Termini brothers and Hank's bringing the beer."

  "Cool. Trace and I can pick up the last few things and I'll start prepping some of the dishes tonight."

  "Tell me where and when you need me, Emmie, and I'm there."

  "Thanks, Daddy. I think snipping the beans and peeling the potatoes like always is enough."

  "You got it. Now, if you don't need Trace, I'd like to show him around the neighborhood and introduce him to some of the guys."

  "Take him to the docks and throw him in." I said with a grin but my dad was looking at Trace and shaking his head.

  "If anyone is taking a swim, it wouldn't be him. I couldn't budge him with a backhoe. What do you bench press?"

  Trace's grin was wicked when he replied, "How much do you weigh?"

  My dad's laugh was so nice to hear as he slapped Trace affectionately on the back. "Yup, I like you. Come on, let's go scare my buddies."

  Trace stood and placed his glass in the dishwasher before turning to me and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

  "See you later, love."

  "Have fun. Behave, Daddy."

  He kissed my head before he replied, "Always."

  I was cuddled up on the sofa in the living room reading Wuthering Heights when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the front steps. The door opened and in walked my dad and Trace. Judging from the smiles on their faces, their night together had been a success. I bookmarked my page as I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. Trace saw me first and the look in his eyes had my heart pounding in my chest. My dad turned and smiled as he started for the stairs.