For Forester (For You #2) Read online

  I was in big freaking trouble.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Marin

  I slipped on my nude heels as I hobbled my way down the stairs Friday night. My parents sat on the sofa on both sides of CJ pretending to be interested in whatever he was showing them on his tablet.

  “You look gorgeous,” my dad said, his eyes taking in the navy off-the-shoulder dress I’d pulled from the back of my closet.

  I laughed, stopping at the bottom of the stairs and fixing my dress into place. “You’re my dad. You have to say that.”

  “Well, I think you look beautiful, too,” my mom added.

  “Me too,” CJ said without bothering to look up.

  “Thanks.” I glanced between my parents. “I shouldn’t be late.”

  “Stay out as late as you want. We’re taking him back to our house,” my mom said.

  “Woo hoo!” CJ shouted, dropping his tablet and jumping up to dance around the living room like a little nut. “Can I stay all weekend?”

  “We’ll see,” I said, making sure my parents knew they didn’t have to give in to his every wish.

  “Just keep your head up,” my mom reminded me.

  I nodded as I grabbed my sparkly clutch from the table and stopped at the front door. “Well, wish me luck.”

  * * *

  I walked into the ballroom at the Silver Lake Country Club, somehow mixing up the times and missing the ceremony all together. I sent up a silent prayer that the bride and groom put me with other singles, and not a bunch of happy couples. I eyed the numbers beneath the tall floral centerpieces draping down to the tables, locating table twenty in the back corner of the room. Since I was only Felecia and Seamus’ neighbor, I didn’t expect to be in the front of the room.

  I approached the already filled table searching for the only empty chair, making a beeline straight for it. I lifted my gaze to greet my tablemates, surprised to find all my neighbors, including Trace and the brunette from the car—Mel—staring at me. My heart tripped over itself. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” Trace said, clearly surprised to see me as he jumped to his feet and pulled out the empty chair beside him. The navy tie over his white button down brought out the intensity in his eyes as they assessed me up and down.

  “Thanks.” I slipped into the chair, wishing goosebumps hadn’t coasted up my bare arms as I brushed by him. Once I settled into my seat, I glanced at everyone, including Trace’s parents. “How’s everyone doing?”

  They all smiled and greeted me warmly, though I wondered what they were really thinking of me being there alone.

  “No date tonight, Marin?” Trace’s mom called across the table, answering my question for me.

  I swallowed down the sudden lump lodged in my throat and maintained my composure. I wasn’t about to allow Janine Forester to make me feel any more uncomfortable than I already did. I’d known her long enough to know it was her MO. Make others feel inferior and then she maintained the upper hand in every situation. Thankfully, her son was nothing like her. “Nope. Just me.”

  She gave me the once over. “It’s a shame to waste such a pretty dress on no one special.”

  “Mom,” Trace hissed at the same time his father hissed, “Janine.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  “No, it’s not,” Trace muttered under his breath.

  I knew enough to keep my distance from Trace, especially under his mother’s watchful eye, not to mention his date sitting there anticipating all his attention. So I looked to Steve, my neighbor who’d lost his wife last year, seated on my other side. “How you doing, Steve?”

  Steve shrugged, his outdated brown suit wrinkled from lack of use. “Hanging in there.”

  A waiter approached our table carrying a tray of champagne. “I’ll have one.” I didn’t wait for him to place it down, just took it from his hand and finished it off in one long gulp. As he rounded the table after serving the others, I handed him my empty glass and grabbed another. He chuckled under his breath. He had no idea.

  Trace bumped me softly with his shoulder. I swiveled to face him. “This is Mel,” he said before looking to his date. “Mel, Marin.”

  “Hi,” I said, wondering if she remembered me from Trace’s house. And if her short dress was an indication of the type of girl Trace went for.

  “How’s your son, Marin?” Janine asked, obviously working an angle. She’d seen CJ and me at her house. Didn’t she know how much time Trace spent with us? “Great.”

  She leaned toward Mel who sat beside her and whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Her husband left her and their young boy.”

  “Mom,” Trace growled. “That’s enough.”

  Anger bubbled inside me as heat pulsed in my cheeks. There wasn’t a chance in hell I planned to hold my tongue, especially with the champagne already beginning to work its magic. “Actually,” I said, my eyes moving to Trace’s date. “I kicked his sorry ass out.”

  Trace choked.

  “Yeah,” I continued, apparently on a roll. “Couldn’t keep it in his pants.” I looked to Janine. “Thanks for bringing it up, though. I wasn’t sure if everyone knew the truth. Wouldn’t want the wrong gossip being spread around.” I tilted my head condescendingly. “You know what I mean?”

  I chewed down my prime rib a little while later, the meat as hard to stomach as the tension at the table. The cake cutting couldn’t come quickly enough. Between the glares from Janine, the laughter from Mel because of something Trace whispered in her ear, and Steve telling me stories about his late wife, this night needed to be over.

  Our table eventually cleared out as my table mates took to the dance floor. Felecia, the bride, dragged me out there for her favorite girl anthem, but I returned to the table once the DJ informed us he’d be rolling out the slow jams.

  Steve had disappeared, so I sat alone wondering if I could slip out unnoticed. The majority of the couples were on the dance floor, including Trace and Mel, who gazed up at him, undoubtedly smitten by his looks and charm. I missed that feeling. That utter bliss accompanying a new relationship. That knowledge that someone wanted you as much as you wanted them. I wondered what they’d do after the wedding. Would he take her right home? Or would he take her somewhere private?

  The song ended and another slow one began. I averted my gaze from the dance floor and eyed the exit. Steve stood by it. I could speak to him, and then sneak out. Yep. That’s what I’d do. I grabbed my clutch and stood.

  Shit.

  I grasped the back of the chair, steadying myself on my heels. Apparently, the liquor had caught up with me. Great. Now I either needed to sober up or call an Uber. Could the night get any worse?

  A large hand landed on my bare arm sending chills rushing over my skin. My head twisted.

  Trace stood there in his loosened tie. “Dance with me.”

  My eyes shot around to all the couples swaying to the song drifting through the speakers. “Where’s your date?”

  “Bathroom.”

  I glanced back to him. “I don’t think we should.”

  His face grew incredulous. “Why not?”

  “Your mother. She’ll probably get on the microphone and tell the entire room my business.”

  His hand slipped down my arm until his fingers linked with mine. I wished my hand didn’t feel so small in his. It only made me see him as the man I was beginning to wish he was. He tugged me gently onto the dance floor, stopping us in the corner, far from prying eyes.

  When he turned to face me, I considered where to place my hands. I didn’t want to do anything that would look inappropriate and add more fuel to Janine’s fire.

  “Put your arms around my neck.”

  “I know where they go,” I mumbled, more embarrassed than anything else. I lifted my hands and rested them on his shoulders, one hand still grasping my clutch. Trace’s fresh aloe scent overwhelmed my senses as he slipped his hands around my back. They were firm and strong and pulled me against his solid chest. Having his arms around
me in the stadium had been playful. This was intimate.

  Before I knew it, we were swaying in time to the music. His muscular grip reminded me what it was like to be in the arms of someone strong. Someone who wanted to be there with me. I wondered if he could feel my racing heart. I tipped my head to look up at him. He was already staring down at me. The look in his eyes was not the look he’d given Mel while they danced. This one held hunger. My body hummed like a crazy live wire. It was wrong. It was so incredibly wrong to be feeling this way. “Your date’s nice,” I said, trying to alleviate the awkwardness of being in his arms in a room full of people.

  “She just offered to fuck me in the bathroom.”

  I blinked hard, taken aback by his response. “Oh.”

  He laughed. “You’ve gotta see the look on your face right now.”

  I shook off my surprise. “Does that sort of thing happen to you often?”

  He shrugged. And everything about the way his shoulders lifted beneath my hands told me it did.

  My eyes flashed over Trace’s shoulder. Janine stared at us across the dance floor. Her glaring eyes screamed one thing. Me dancing with her son was not okay. My attention glided back to Trace and his piercing blue eyes. “So, you didn’t want to take her up on her offer?”

  His laughter hit me deep, probably because his chest rumbled against mine. “The idea of my dad walking in and finding us going at it in the bathroom wasn’t on my list of things to do tonight.”

  “So later?” I could not believe I asked that.

  “Later?” He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah. You’ll wait until later.”

  He said nothing, just stared at me. I had no idea what he searched for as his eyes riveted between mine. All I knew was his arms tightening around me felt way too right. “Come by the bar tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to come by the bar.”

  “CJ’s at my mom and dad’s house.”

  “I didn’t say CJ. I said you.”

  Tingles shot between my thighs. “Oh.”

  “Oh, you’ll come?” He flashed his crooked smile, the one that said he knew something I didn’t. “Or oh, you’ll wuss out?”

  The song ended and I abruptly stepped back and out of his arms, not wanting to linger too long or give myself a chance to say or do something I would’ve regretted with a clear head in the morning. “Thanks for the dance. Now I don’t feel like a complete loser coming to a wedding alone.” I turned to walk away.

  Trace grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him. “So?” His face inched closer to mine. “Should I expect you?”

  My eyes zoned in on his lips. What would they feel like? What would they taste like? Shit. Shit. Shit. “I don’t think so.”

  “Wuss.”

  My eyes lifted to his. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe you’ll show or maybe you’re a wuss?” he asked.

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” I spun on my heels, knowing they accented my killer quads, and walked off the dance floor. Instead of leaving, I turned into the ladies room and stood in the back of the short line, taking a much needed deep breath.

  What was it about Trace that set me off balance?

  And why did he have to be so young?

  “I wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.”

  My eyes shot around, searching for the familiar voice.

  Mel walked out of a stall and up to the sink. Her eyes met mine in the mirror.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Forester. The way he looks at you. Don’t tell me you can’t see it?”

  “You must be mistaken.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. He gave you the look. And if I’m being honest, he’s been giving you the same look all night.”

  “What look?”

  She rubbed her hands together under the faucet. “The one that says I’ve got plans for you and me.”

  I hesitated. “You got that from a look?”

  She switched off the faucet and grabbed a paper towel. “I got that from knowing how he works. And Forester hasn’t had to work for it since he hit puberty.”

  She spun to face me while drying her hands. “A word to the wise. If you want a piece, don’t play so hard to get. He’ll get bored and move on. And from what I’ve heard, there’s one hell of a line on campus.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  She tossed her paper towel into the garbage and turned back to me. “If I’m not getting any action, someone should be.”

  With that she disappeared out of the ladies room, leaving me with her words and the realization that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing when it came to Trace Forester.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Trace

  My shift had been a slow one for a Saturday night. Football fans had planted their asses at the beach-side bar hoping to catch my eye. That’s why Lou hired me to bartend even though I was underage. I drew a crowd. The guys wanted to talk ball. The girls...well, they wanted to go home with me. Little did they know I lived at home with my parents for the summer.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking it for the umpteenth time. Marin hadn’t called. I couldn’t believe she blew me off. I wasn’t used to girls running from me. She was obviously scared of me. Scared of what I made her feel. I could tell by the way she tried not to relax in my arms when we danced last night. By the way her heart raced against mine as I pulled her closer. By the way she disappeared from the wedding right after our dance. She didn’t trust herself with me.

  I was certainly a force to be reckoned with. I guess I didn’t blame her. I was only home for another month with practice starting up the first week of August.

  I wiped down the top of the bar, knowing I had about a half an hour before my dinner break.

  “I’ll have a Corona with a lime.”

  A smile spread across my face before my eyes even had a chance to lift to see her. Marin sat on the corner stool to my left, wearing a white top with a sparkly blue necklace that matched her eyes. She looked like any other college girl spending the night at a beach bar.

  “Well, hello,” I said.

  She smiled coyly.

  I loved that she showed up. And I wanted to know so damn bad why she had. Was it because I asked her to or because she wanted to see me? “What brings you to these parts?”

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. Thought I’d check it out.”

  “That the only reason?” I reached into the cooler and grabbed her beer, snapping off the top with an opener under the bar.

  “Heard the service was okay.”

  I lifted a brow as I pinched a lime into the bottle. “Just okay?”

  She shrugged.

  I handed her the bottle, purposely grazing my fingertips over hers. It was probably the reason she chugged half the beer before placing it down on the bar. I glanced around. The eyes of most of the guys were on her. Who could blame them? Her wavy blond hair hung over her shoulders. And the highlights framing her face made her look like she spent hours on the beach every day. “Glad you made it.”

  “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was a wuss.” She smiled as she lifted the bottle to her lips.

  I loved the way she came across so confident and so in charge even though I knew how vulnerable she was. It intrigued me. Made me want her to step out of her comfort zone, especially when it came to me.

  Once my dinner break came, I motioned Marin to follow me toward the beach. She did, slipping off her sandals before stepping onto the sand. The sun sat low on the horizon as we walked toward one of the vacant lifeguard chairs. “You expect me to climb?” she asked, amused by the notion.

  “I could always toss you over my shoulder and carry you.”

  She laughed as she climbed the plank steps and planted her cute ass on the seat. Too bad she’d worn skinny jeans and not those hot as hell cutoffs she’d worn the day we drove to campus. Her ass looked amazing.

  Once I r
eached the top, I sat beside her, purposely pressing my arm and leg against hers, giving her no space of her own. Her faint lavender scent mixed with the brine of the beach.

  “Do you take a lot of girls up here?” she asked over the rolling of the waves.

  “A lot of girls?”

  “Yeah. Mel told me you just snap your fingers and you have your pick.”

  I laughed a humorless laugh. I was going to kill Mel. “That’s not exactly how it works. I actually clap my hands.”

  Marin laughed, and the raspy sound did weird things to me. It wasn’t contrived. It was authentic and all woman.

  “So now that we’ve established I’m funny, thanks for coming.”

  She shrugged, her eyes moving toward the ocean.

  “No, I’m serious. I totally thought you’d be a no show.”

  “Always keep them guessing,” she mused. “That’s the mistake I made with—”

  “The douchebag,” I interrupted. “From here on out we refer to him as the douchebag, if we have to refer to him at all.”

  She chuckled.

  The sun lowered, its edges a hazy fiery vision slowly disappearing beneath the ocean line. I slipped my arm around the back of the chair, gauging Marin’s reaction. I would’ve liked for her to rest her head against my shoulder. But she stayed put, watching the sun set in her own space.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said, awed by the sight I got to witness every time I worked.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  Her body tensed, though her attention stayed on the sunset. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Trying to embarrass me.”

  “I’m just telling it like it is. And you’re fucking beautiful.”

  She threw back her head and the sound of her laughter carried over the waves.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  Her slender shoulders shook as her laughter slowly subsided. “You. The way you always just say what you’re thinking.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just jealous of your boldness.”

  “You could be bold.”