Saving Trace

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Saving Trace Page 11

by Jill Sanders


  “I hope that I do a lot more to you than just that,” she said as she walked through the door that he held open for her.

  When he stepped up on the stage, he could tell that the crowd was more than double what it had been the night before. The place was packed. He didn’t know if it was due to the video or if it was just a normal Saturday night deal. He’d only played there a couple weeknights as well as the last two Friday nights.

  The room was loud until he started the first song. Then everyone crowded around the stage. He had to admit, he felt more nervous than he ever had before. Sure, he’d played more gigs than he could count, but he’d never played for this many people before.

  After his first song, an old George Jones song, he felt himself and the crowd start to loosen up. He got the crowd dancing with his next tune. The entire place broke out into one large wave of line dancing.

  He could just make out a soft blue dress floating in the crowd, which encouraged him on.

  By the time he needed to take a break, it appeared as if even more people had come in. Emma met him at the edge of the stage.

  “Can you believe this?” she asked, rushing up and giving him a kiss on his cheek as she handed him a cold beer. “This place hasn’t been this packed since Lucas and Tessa played here last,” she said, glancing around.

  “Really?” He took a sip of the beer and glanced around. There were groups of people watching him. Even though the music had started up again through the speakers, they stood around as if waiting for him to do some bit of magic.

  “How about we step outside for some air?” Emma tugged on his arm and he followed her outside.

  The noise disappeared here and, as they walked to their spot, the thumping of the music was replaced by the chirping of crickets and frogs.

  “This is nice,” he admitted and handed her the beer when she asked. His arm went automatically around her shoulders as he pulled her closer.

  “Yes.” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “It is.”

  “Too bad we can’t skip out early.” He kissed the top of her head, wishing he could dance with her here, under the stars to the sounds of the night.

  Damn, he’d never thought of himself as a romantic. Not until she’d come along.

  “Later,” she promised him and reached up to kiss him. “Until then, know that you’ll be in every woman’s dreams tonight.”

  He smiled down at her. “I only care about one woman,” he said before kissing her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emma danced with her friends while Trace sang on stage. She knew he only had a couple more songs to sing before closing time. The place was even more crowded now than when he’d first taken the stage, telling her that word had gotten out in the neighboring towns.

  She was a little surprised to see her folks walk in just before Trace started singing “Lost My Way.”

  “Is this that song?” her mother asked, and her father answered quickly.

  “Yes.” He held her as they listened to Trace sing.

  “He’s good,” her father said after the song ended.

  “Yes, he is.” She smiled back at her dad.

  When Trace started talking, they all listened.

  “This is another one of my songs I’m going to try out on you tonight. Let me know what you think. It’s called ‘Sunset Road.’”

  When the guitar started a slow sad tune, her father reached over and took her mother’s hand and led her onto the dance floor. Watching her parents sway to the slow song had her dreaming of what her future would be like.

  She’d been raised around couples who still looked at each other the way she felt about Trace. Swaying to the music, she stood against the bar and watched the crowd circle slowly around the dance floor.

  The lyrics spoke of loneliness on the open road, making Emma remember his words from earlier.

  What was Trace going to do once he had enough money saved up to buy another van? Would he leave Fairplay? Leave her?

  He’d warned her that he was a drifter. But she’d hoped, dreamed, that he could change. That he’d want to settle down there. She knew that travel was a requirement in the music industry and, just like Tessa and Lucas, he’d have to go on the road. But maybe this could become his base of operation?

  When the song ended, her parents came back to stand next to her.

  “Okay, he’s really good,” her father said, leaning down and kissing her mother on the forehead. “We’re going to head home.” He winked at her.

  “Gross.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t get me started,” her father warned with a smile, as his eyes moved to the stage. “Be safe.”

  “Always,” she promised happily and waved as they made their way towards the door.

  As with the night before, a group of locals helped Trace haul his equipment out to the truck after the show. Tonight, however, Trace and Emma didn’t stick around the bar until closing time.

  There were too many people asking for his autograph or pictures. He did take a few minutes to pose for group pictures and even signed a few T-shirts and bar napkins.

  Several people asked where they could purchase his songs, to which she replied that he would be signing a record deal with Tessa and Lucas James soon and that they should keep checking their YouTube channel for more details.

  “You need some swag,” she said when they pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Swag?” He glanced over at her.

  “Sure, like printed bar coasters you can sign. At least until you have CDs, T-shirts, and bigger-ticket items.” She could already see everything he would need. It wasn’t hard to create a list, as she’d worked Lucas’s booth at the last show he’d put on in town.

  “Sounds like you’re good at all that,” Trace said

  “I’m good at a lot of things,” she replied smoothly.

  “I mean,” he glanced over at her, “dealing with marketing and stuff.”

  “It’s what I do.” She shrugged. “There’s more to working at the bookstore than pouring coffee.”

  He was silent for a while.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to convince you to come back to my place so I can make love to you all night.”

  She glanced at her watch and figured she had about six hours before she had to be up opening the bookstore. She groaned. “I wish, but I know for a fact that Mal can’t fill in for me tomorrow morning.” She sighed. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make out for a while in the truck when you drop me off at home.”

  “If that’s all the time we can have”–he reached over and took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips— “I’ll take it.”

  It wasn’t until after ten the following morning that she had a moment to check his video again. Sunday mornings were crazy around the bookstore, everyone rushing in before church to get their coffee fix.

  Mama’s had implemented new hours and didn’t open on Sundays until after church let out. Which meant the bookstore was the only place in town with great coffee. She loved seeing everyone come in dressed in their best.

  But when it slowed down, she pulled out her iPad and checked the video, reading through some of the comments.

  She was surprised that a handful of trolls had hit him with complaints or threats of lawsuits, claiming that he’d stolen their song. When she investigated the people, none of them appeared to be real, let alone musicians.

  She couldn’t understand how someone could be so vicious. She wanted to respond to them, but she remembered a few years back when Tessa had to deal with an online stalker. Apparently, the first rule of dealing with online trolls was not to engage them.

  Still, she made a note of the profile names, figuring she’d keep track of the more threatening ones. She knew that the only way Trace would see these was if he borrowed her laptop again.

  How had he gone without being connected for so long? She couldn’t go a day without her cell phone or other de
vices, let alone as long as Trace had.

  Sometimes, it was the only way she kept in touch with her family and friends. Even though they lived in the same small town, most of them had their own busy lives. It was why she loved working at the bookstore, so she could stay in touch with everyone.

  Her mind turned to Trace and how he’d made her feel last night before she’d climbed the stairs and slipped into her own bed, alone.

  She needed something to clear her mind, so she got to work restocking the shelves with the latest book releases. Another perk of the job—she was first to get her hands on new books by her favorite authors.

  But even after she’d moved a bunch of boxes from the back room and unpacked them, she still couldn’t shake Trace from her mind. Every time she thought of him, her body reacted as if he was right there, his hands on her, making her body hum.

  She was thankful for the distraction of the flood of after-church customers. Even her parents stopped by and chatted with her so that by the time she closed later that day, she felt a little more in control of her mind and body and was ready for an evening with Trace.

  She knew that Trace had probably worked most of the afternoon with her father, repairing the old tractor.

  Her parents usually had dinner with Emma’s aunts and uncles on Sunday nights, which meant that Trace would be left to his own defenses for dinner. This gave her the idea to swing by his place and make him dinner.

  Since she knew that the only items that he had in his freezer were TV dinners, she stopped by the Grocery Stop on the way home.

  That was normally a fun trip, but the place was packed and when she ran into Aubrey, she wished she’d ordered takeout from Mama’s instead.

  Not that Aubrey was terrible, but she had heard that the girl definitely took after her mother, before Savannah had changed.

  “There she is.” Aubrey steered her cart towards her own. She’d only just grabbed a container of chicken breasts and sauce and had been heading towards the vegetable aisle.

  “Hi, Aubrey.” Emma pasted on a smile that she hoped said I’m in a hurry. But when Aubrey parked her cart so that it blocked Emma’s, she knew she wasn’t going to get off that easy. “Is it true what they’re saying?”

  Emma’s eyebrows shot up in question. “Who? And what are they saying?” she asked when Aubrey didn’t continue.

  “That Tessa’s going to sign Trace with her label?”

  Emma relaxed slightly. “Yes, Tessa and Lucas are going to be home next week. I’m sure they’re going to settle it all with him then.”

  Aubrey’s smile grew. “You must be glowing. After all, you sure dug your claws into him quickly enough after he arrived.”

  Emma felt her back teeth clench. She would like to think that Aubrey hadn’t meant anything by her words, but… she knew better.

  As with online trolls, the best way to handle Aubrey was to act as if what she’d said hadn’t bothered you.

  “Yes, I’m very excited. I think he deserves the deal. After all, he’s the best I’ve heard in a long time,” she said sweetly.

  “Oh”—Aubrey waved her hand— “of course he is. I mean, he’s got the whole package.” Her eyes ran over Emma. “Some of us have it.”

  That was all of Aubrey Emma could stand. “I’m sorry,” she broke in, “I’m really on a tight schedule.” She motioned to her cart.

  “Oh, I totally understand.” Aubrey shifted slightly, but still blocked Emma. “I know he’s staying out at your place; I hope your parents aren’t… upset.”

  “At?” Emma fell for the bait.

  “Well, I mean, having a stranger staying with them, and how you and Trace have grown so… close, so quickly.”

  “No,” she replied quickly, and sidestepped her, pulling her cart sideways to scoot around Aubrey’s fuller cart. “They like Trace very much. I have to go.” She rushed through the rest of her shopping, grabbing a large roll of fresh bread, some vegetables, and even a key lime pie for dessert.

  But Aubrey had gotten under her skin. When she let herself into Trace’s place, she could hear him showering in the back bathroom.

  Seeing his dirty clothes and boots at the door, she could instantly tell he’d had a long day. There was grease and oil covering them.

  Instead of heading towards the back, she pulled out the groceries and got busy making them dinner. Her mind was so focused on all the negativity she’d dealt with that day. She tried very hard to forget it and overcome it, but somehow, it only grew bigger in her mind. Her head started pounding, so she poured herself a glass of the wine that she’d bought. She hoped that by the time dinner was ready, she would be relaxed again.

  However, by the time she heard the shower turn off, the wine had amplified the headache instead of relieving it.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Being here, with him. Maybe things had progressed too fast. What did she really know about him anyway?

  When she asked him questions, he answered, sure, but most of the time it was a short one-word answer. He never went into great detail about his past. Except that first night.

  She was positive she was the only one who knew about his best friend and what had happened, but outside of that, his life was a mystery.

  She glanced around and realized that he probably knew all there was to know about her. It wasn’t as if she had any major secrets. Her life was an open book.

  Feeling even worse than before, she tried to paste on a smile when she heard him heading her way. She wasn’t going to let Aubrey and the other trolls win.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There Emma was again, barefoot in his kitchen, cooking. She was wearing tight gray leggings and a soft blue tank top. She’d piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, and he was pretty sure she was the sexiest thing he’d seen in his life.

  “You’d better be careful,” he warned, walking over to her and taking her hips with his hands. “I’m going to get used to seeing you in my kitchen.”

  She chuckled and, after setting a pan off the stove, kissed him. “I thought we could double up for dinner. I went to the store and came over since my folks were having dinner with my aunt and uncle.” She motioned to the counter. “I hope you like barbeque chicken.” She kissed him, then nudged him aside. “I’m starving.”

  “Me too.” His stomach growled loudly again.

  They started to move around the small space, working together to finish dinner. He suggested that they eat on the back deck so they could watch the sunset. He made several trips to bring the food out to the back deck, grabbed himself a beer, and refilled her glass of wine.

  “How was work?” he asked after the first bite.

  “Wonderful.” She glanced over at him and he could see there was something behind those green eyes of hers. “As always.” Her smile didn’t really reach her eyes. “You?”

  “We got the old tractor working again.” He sighed. “For about a minute. Then it choked again. Your dad is ordering a couple parts for it online. They should be here next week.”

  He glanced off over the fields just as the sun slipped behind the west hills.

  “Tessa messaged me today. She wanted your number so she could talk to you personally. They’ll be back in town late next week and want to meet you.”

  He felt his stomach roll slightly and set his fork down.

  “How do you feel about that?” she asked when he didn’t reply.

  “Nervous,” he admitted, causing her to smile.

  “I’ve known Tessa my entire life. You wouldn’t know it now, but she was a skinny nerdy girl who had no friends growing up. It made her one of the nicest people I know.” She touched his arm again. “She’s going to love you.”

  He took another sip of his beer and tried to relax. Once they were done eating, he took their plates inside, grabbed his guitar and a couple more beers, then returned outside.

  “This is nice,” Emma said, tucking her feet up underneath her as he started to tune his guitar. “My very own private show.
” She leaned back in the chair as he started to play the tune that had been in his head for the past few days.

  There was no way he was going to sing the lyrics in front of her, but at least he could work out the notes.

  When he was done playing it, he made a few mental notes so that he would remember the tune.

  “What’s that one called?” she asked. Her head was resting back and, several times, she’d closed her eyes while he’d played.

  He thought about it. “It doesn’t have a name yet.” He’d been thinking of just calling it Emma, but now, it was too obvious.

  “Any lyrics?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her green eyes searching his.

  He shrugged and took a sip of his beer, which had warmed in the heat of the evening. His eyes searched the darkness. A flash of lightning lit up the sky in the distance.

  “Yes.” He moved to set the guitar aside, but she stopped him.

  “I’d love to hear them,” she begged slightly.

  Setting the guitar aside, he shook his head and stood. Taking her hands in his, he pulled her up into his arms. “Maybe someday,” he said against her lips. “For now, I really want to take you inside.”

  Her arms moved around his shoulders as she smiled up at him. “I’d like that.”

  He took her hand, grabbed his guitar, and walked into the house just as the first drops of rain splashed onto the deck.

  Making love to her slowly as the rain sounded outside the window was one of the greatest joys of his life. He couldn’t remember a more perfect night.

  Trace was used to falling into patterns. After all, that’s basically what military life is. You wake up, eat, work, eat, work some more, eat again, and go to bed so you can do it all over again the following day.

  Over the next week, he droned on, waiting, dreaming about the weekend when he could step up on the stage again.

  He had some new songs that were ready to be heard, and he planned to play a few of them for everyone that weekend.

 

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