Page 38 of Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia 1)

Trace wiped his hands on his jeans, and moved around the front of the car, with the part he’d been dancing with.

I followed him, watching as he fiddled easily with the car parts.

It looked complicated to me, but he made it seem easy.

“I’m almost done here,” he glanced over his shoulder at me. “And then we’ll cross off something else.”

“Uhmm,” I replied, trying not to look at his muscular back, and the way his muscles rippled as he worked on the car. Why did he have to be so good looking?

I turned away, bobbing my head to the music. I needed to stop thinking about how good he looked. He was my…friend and it was wrong to have these kinds of thoughts about him.

“Alright, I’m done for now,” Trace announced and I spun back around. “The owner won’t be by to pick it up till tomorrow night, so I have time to finish it,” he shrugged.

“Are you sure?” I asked, taping the toe of my right heel on the concrete floor.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he grinned.

A noise sounded at the front of the garage and I turned rapidly.

The sudden movement caused me to lose my balance and I started to fall.

“Whoa,” Trace grabbed my arm to steady me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, fiddling with a strand of hair.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Luca mumbled in his deep voice. He was dressed much like he was the first time I saw him. Jeans, vest, and a fedora. Apparently Luca and Trace stuck to very rigid dress codes. Except when Trace was making me drool by not wearing a shirt, although, he was definitely drool-worthy fully clothed.

Luca pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

I wasn’t sure if he ever actually smoked one, they seemed to be a part of the whole look he was going for. I still hadn’t figured out what the vests meant though.

A grin spread across Trace’s face, and he grabbed me by the hand, dragging me over to Luca.

“Looks like we can cross two things off tonight,” he smirked.

“Huh?” I was confused.

“Luca, give me one of those,” Trace held his hand out for a cigarette.

“But you don’t smoke,” Luca grumbled, “and these are expensive.”

“Luca,” Trace groaned. “Just do it.”

Luca mumbled something unintelligible but handed over a cigarette.

“Lighter,” Trace continued to hold out his hand.

Luca slapped the lighter into his palm. “I expect that back.”

Trace led me outside and released my hand.

It was chilly outside, in the forties, but Trace was still shirtless. I was sure he was doing it on purpose because his bare chest was all kinds of distracting.

“Here

,” he handed me the cigarette.

I glanced down at it, perplexed.

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