Page 89 of The Life We Left Behind

“I’ve got you, Delaney.”

He thrust harder at the same time as my fingers slipped across my clit, and I exploded. Trace quickly kissed me again, smothering my cries as my fingers dug into the back of his neck.

I felt him groan against my neck as he thrust home one more time and came deep inside me.

We both leaned forward into the cold tile as we tried to catch our breath. Trace slipped out of my body and reached over me to grab the soap. He turned me around again and quietly cleaned my body, dropping to his knees to pay particular attention to the place between my legs. I leaned against the shower tiles, smiling down at him, that dopey feeling of love and satisfaction making my body feel like Jell-O.

When he was finished, Trace stood and placed a soft kiss against my lips. “I can’t get enough of you, Delaney. I don’t ever want to.”

I stroked one hand down his cheek, loving the feel of the bite of stubble there. As soon as the thought entered my head, I knew exactly where I wanted to feel that stubble next.

Pinching my lips together, I smiled. “That’s a good thing. Seems I remember you saying something about not being done with me yet.”

He grinned. “That’s my dirty girl,” he muttered before he threw open the shower door and swung me up into his arms,striding out of the bathroom and dripping water down the corridor.

Trace was right. This was the best way to wake up in the morning.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

DELANEY

It was finally here.

The funeral.

The day we were going to say goodbye.

I stared at my reflection and smoothed my hands down the simple black dress I wore. The woman in the mirror didn’t seem like me. She looked strong. Stoic. She looked ready.

I couldn’t be any less ready even if I’d tried.

I physically ached. I’d tried to pretend it wasn’t there. I’d tried to ignore it. But the weight of the sadness that pressed down on me made every part of my body ache. It hurt to breathe. It swelled higher and higher with every exhale, and I was so tired of fighting it.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and my hands clenched into fists at my sides as I fought for control.

I couldn’t slip now. I was so close. So close to the end, so close to getting through this thing. I had no idea what I was expecting on the other side, but I kept telling myself that I just needed to get past the funeral. That I could hold it inside for just that little bit longer, and then it would be okay.

But how was it going to be?

My dad was gone. Adelaide was gone. My mother had never even been here. I was alone. Alone in the world, with no one left to lean on. I had no other choice but to be strong because I had to be for Cade.

And then I saw him in the mirror.

Trace moved up behind me. He looked so strong in his dark suit, the crisp white shirt gleaming against the heavy material. He almost seemed like a dream until he reached out, and his hands touched my shoulders, drawing my back against his front.

“I’ve got you, Delaney,” he whispered.

And I broke.

Trace gently turned me into his chest and held me as I wept the tears that I’d held inside. He stood firm, letting me fall apart with a promise that he’d be there to help me back together again at the end.

I wasn’t alone.

I had Trace.

And maybe it was a dream. Everything had changed so fast and so impossibly in one short week. I was standing on the brink of the life I’d always wanted. The one that I hardly dared to dream of because it hurt too much to even consider.

I just needed to get through the funeral.

---