Page 61 of Yours Truly

I face Deuce, ignoring the flood of memories from last night that come rushing back. I came all over Trace and he came all over me, and we didn’t even have sex. But we left that space closer than before, more understanding of our needs.

“He’s scared if you ain’t his apprentice, he’ll lose you to…” Deuce nods to Connor. “Literally anyone else.”

“How can he lose something he doesn’t even have?” I question, though without a title, I’m his. I’ve always been his, I’m just waiting for his stupid ass to realize that.

Deuce shrugs. “He’s taking the morning off to cool down, boss’s orders.”

I arch a brow. “Did you tell him it was the boss’s orders?”

He smirks. “Yeah, he loved that. Not as much as he loved me suggesting you end the apprenticeship early but… close.” With another consoling pat on my shoulder, Deuce leaves me to sketch.

And the entire morning, I brainstorm ways I can show Trace that trust and love are important.

Trusting and loving me? Necessary.

EIGHTEEN

Like a puppy

Trace

“Your daddy told you to stay put,” Hudson says, glancing at his phone again.

“He ain’t my daddy,” I growl, pacing behind the row of barstools at the diner counter.

Hudson pulls a toothpick from his lips, eyeing me. “He told you to calm down, said you can’t come to the shop till after lunch, and then said stay put.” He shrugs. “I got two kids. That sounds a lot like you getting grounded by Daddy.”

I roll my eyes. “He wants me to calm down, that’s all. And stop saying daddy,” I grumble while I continue to stomp back and forth, feeding my hands through my hair, wondering why I always gotta say the worst fucking thing instead of how I actually feel.

“And are ya?” Hudson asks, pouring the warmed maple syrup into a to-go container. He begins filling another one.

“Think you got enough syrup?” I question, taking out my frustration anywhere I can.

“Not for what Dolly has planned.” He pops the lid on and pinches the top of his hat, resting it on his head. “Well, if you don’t mind a word of advice from a man married to an Ellington sister–”

He lifts the plastic bags full of food from the counter, leaving a healthy tip for Lucy. I realize then that if things work out with Ivy, if I can get my shit together, this man may be my brother-in-law. Which would make Deuce… Well, nothing. But I’d be in their circle. I’d belong somewhere. Somewhere I think I actually enjoy being. With people I like.

Who, if I get my shit together now, may actually like me too. Not Trace Calhoun the has-been TV star but actually me.

Nodding, I welcome Hudson’s advice.

“Well, from what I’ve observed, you seem a bit… tantrum-y.”

I press a hand to my chest, still worked up from earlier. Now? “Tantrum-y?” I repeat. This cowboy boot-wearing, buckle-loving, hay-baling guy is gonna call me tantrum-y. “I am not,” I retort angrily, stomping my boot.

Hudson’s eyes veer to my boot, and my gaze follows. A moment of silence passes.

“You gotta have a level head with these women, okay? Because they’re smart, and if you’re all,” he makes this face like he just licked a lemon, “all the time, then it makes it hard for things to happen.” Gathering the second plastic bag full of food, he says, “I pushed Dolly away for stupid reasons. She stuck around. I’m just saying, don’t think of stupid reasons to prolong the inevitable.”

“Inevitable?” I repeat.

“You’re a one-word master, aren’t ya?” Hudson moves past me toward the door. “Ivy likes you. Ellington women get what they want.”

“I like Ivy, too,” I admit, feeling like a fourteen-year-old talking to my guidance counselor.

“So then, quit being a baby, get over whatever you got to get over, and accept that you’re hers.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Isn’t that my line? Shouldn’t I be the one calling her mine?”

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