A kiss was pressed against my nose and I stirred in my sleep. I slowly opened my eyes and found Trace hovering above me, a grin plastered on his handsome face. How was he always so peppy in the mornings? It took me forever to wake up.
"What?" I yawned, slapping a hand over my mouth, to cover my morning breath.
"Get dressed, we have places to go, and people to see," he tossed my clothes at me. "And hurry."
"Ugh," I groaned, rolling out of bed, and dressing. I pulled my hair back in a sloppy ponytail and grabbed one of Trace's baseball caps to hide how bad my hair looked.
I laced up my Converse and wiped my sleepy eyes as I stepped into the kitchen area. Trace had cooked eggs and bacon for breakfast. I shoveled some onto a plate and ate it mechanically.
"Where are we going?" I asked, stifling another yawn, "and what time is it, anyway?"
"It's seven," he answered, striding into the kitchen. He was dressed in typical Trace fashion. If he didn't make those plaid shirts look so darn good, I would be so sick of them by now. "And we're going to see Gramps and Trent. I need their help with something."
"Oh. Why do I need to come?" I finished my breakfast and rinsed the plate.
"It involves you," he grinned, grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator.
He tossed one at me, and even in my sleepy state, I managed to catch it.
"Of course," I rolled my eyes.
He grabbed his car keys and started for the door. I followed slowly behind him, blinking my eyes rapidly as I tried to wake up.
I had been having so many late nights studying that I had been looking forward to sleeping in on this Saturday morning. Leave it to Trace to ruin my plans. I was excited to see Warren and Trent though. I had grown fond of both of them.
★★★
The trees opened up and the mansion came into view. I gazed at it in awe. I was sure I would never get used to the sight of it. The lawn was massive and had been recently mowed. Purple, white, and blue flowers dotted the landscape.
Trace parked, and instead of going inside, we headed around back, past the outdoor swimming pool, and tennis court.
I saw Trent and Warren in the distance but couldn't see what they were doing.
When we got close enough, my eyes zeroed in on the targets set up. My eyes widened.
"Think you can handle a gun?" Trace smirked.
"I can handle you," I countered, "so I can definitely handle a gun."
His laugh rumbled through his body. "That's funny."
"Hey," Trent smiled. He was dressed casually in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. The tattoo that covered his upper arm looked like some sort of waterscape. His dark hair was tousled in the front, making him look even more like his brother. "Ready to learn to shoot?" He asked me, pointing at one of the targets. "Trace said you wanted to know how to shoot a gun."
"Uh, yeah," I muttered.
"You don't need to look so scared," Trent chuckled and bumped my shoulder with his. "Us Wentworth boys have excellent aim. Right, Gramps?"
Warren shook his head, hobbling towards us. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Olivia," he assured me.
"This will be fun," Trace smirked cockily, and strode over to a golf cart I was sure Warren and Trent had used to get here from the house. Poor Warren obviously had trouble getting around.
Trace opened a lock box that was on the back of the golf cart. I walked over and peered over his shoulder at the weapon that could kill someone with a simple pull of a trigger.
Trace clucked his tongue, looking at the different guns in the box. "Let's try a revolver and a semi-automatic pistol for you. Those should be easier for you to handle since you're a beginner, but they still have some firepower to them," he murmured, tapping a finger against his lips.
"You're taking forever," Trent groaned from behind us. "Just pick one and show her how to shoot."
"Why do you have to be so impatient?" Trace snapped at his brother.
"Why do you have to be so annoying?" Trent raised a brow.
Trace shook his head and grabbed two guns. I followed him over to one of the targets Trent and Warren set up.
"This is a revolver," he held the gun in his right hand aloft. I was of medium size with a silver cylinder that held chambers for the bullets. "And this one," he held the other where I could see it, "is a semi-automatic." This one was sleeker looking. "Which one do you want to try?"
I pointed to the semi-automatic.
He grinned. "Why am I not surprised?"
He returned the other gun and jogged back to my side. Warren and Trent were already shooting at their targets while Trace explained what I needed to do.
"Semi-automatics are slimmer and lighter than a revolver," his eyes were serious as he spoke. "They can fire more bullets, quicker, and the trigger is easier."
He loaded the magazine with bullets, and directed me with how to stand and hold it, before he finally handed it to me.
I held it in my hands, surprised that I wasn't shaking.
"Take a deep breath," Trace coached. "Look at the target, and when you think you're ready, aim and fire."
I swallowed, eyeing the paper target.
I pulled the trigger and resisted the urge to close my eyes. The bullet missed by a few feet, not even connecting with the paper, but I had done it. I had actually shot a gun.
"That was close," Trace chuckled.
"You're such a liar. That was nowhere close," I shook my head at him.
"I was trying to make you feel better," he defended.
"I want to try again," I told him.
He helped me back into position, but he kept distracting me with a brush of his fingers over my shoulders...down my back...playing with my ponytail.
"Trace," I warned, "you're distracting me."
"Sorry," his chuckle vibrated my body with his close proximity.
"You don't sound sorry," I rolled my eyes, "you sound mighty pleased with yourself."
"Maybe," his fingers skimmed up my bare neck and his lips grazed my ear, "I like distracting you."
"You're very good at it," my eyes fluttered closed and my teeth sank into my lip.
"I'm good at lots of things," his voice was husky.
"Boy!" Warren yelled. "Stop bothering that poor girl!"
"Sorry, Gramps!" Trace laughed and stepped away from me. "It was too fun to resist," he added to me with a lick of his lips.
God, that man could talk me into doing anything, with a few simple words, and a lick of his pouty lips.
I eyed the target again and let loose another bullet.
I whooped in joy when it connected with the paper. It may have been in the bottom right corner, but I had hit it.
"Try again," Trace smiled, "aim a bit higher and to the left, though."
I did as he said, and hit the target again, closer to the center this time.
"This is fun!" I exclaimed.
Warren, Trent, and Trace all chuckled at my enthusiasm.
"You're a Wentworth now," Warren cackled and shot his target, hitting it in the center. "One of you boys, do me a favor, and change my target."
I saw that his paper target was completely hollowed out in the middle from his accurate shots. Trent's looked similar but with a few that had missed the mark slightly.
Trent put his gun down and changed the targets.
"You're doing really good," Trent assessed my progress.
"Thanks," I smiled at him.
Trace continued to work with me until I finally hit the center of the target. He changed my target and set up his own. We shot side by side. He had to stop and help me a few more times, but for the most part, I had gotten the hang of it nicely. I was definitely better at shooting a gun than painting a picture.
I found myself getting distracted by watching Trace shoot his own gun. He was obviously at ease with the firearm and it was a huge turn on seeing him look so masculine.
He twitched under my scrutiny and missed the target.
Trent and Warren burst into laughter.
"That was your fault," Trace mock-glared at me.
"Mine?" I batted my eyelashes. "What did I do?"
"If you keep looking at me like that," he eyed me, "then we're going to have a problem."
"I didn't know I was looking at you in any particular way?" I played dumb.
He stepped forward and gripped my elbow in one of his warm hands. He whispered in my ear, "You know exactly how you're looking at me, Olivia. If you keep it up, I'm marching you straight to my bedroom, and spanking you." His intense green gaze had me shivering, despite the warm temperature.
I looked over my shoulder at Trent, who was watching us with a smirk, and Warren was staring at us with a raised brow.
I blushed, clearing my throat, and took a step away from Trace.
"That won't be necessary," I mumbled, turning back to my target.
Trace chuckled. "Too bad."
Around noontime, we headed inside for lunch.
Cecilia had made sandwiches and we ate them in the dining room.
"You did extremely well today," Warren smiled at me, wiping crumbs from his mouth with a flick of his napkin.
"Thanks," my head bowed at his praise.
"Yeah," Trent grinned, "you were good...for a beginner."
Trace glared at his brother. "She was better than a beginner."
"You're only saying that because you're getting some action," Trent eyed Trace.
Trace stiffened beside me. "Little brother, you never did know when you were crossing the line."
"Little brother? Did you seriously just say that? You couldn't think of anything more insulting?" Trent tilted his head.
I reached for Trace's hand under the table to calm him.
"Boys," Warren banged a fist against the table, "that's enough. Trenton, apologize to Olivia for that crass remark."
"Gramps," Trent groaned.
"Do it," Warren narrowed his eyes at the youngest Wentworth brother.
Trent looked me in the eye with a small, embarrassed, smile. "Sorry, Olivia. I didn't mean it to insult you. I was only messing with Trace."
"I know," I took a sip of water. Trent's comment hadn't upset me. In fact, the whole conversation had fascinated me, since I didn't have siblings to bicker with.
"Happy?" Trent turned to Warren.
"For now," Warren chuckled, lifting a glass of water to his lips.
I finished my sandwich, and asked Trace, "Where's your mom and grandma?"
"Spa day," he shrugged. "They always go once a month."
"Oh," I nodded.
Trace ate a second sandwich and we excused ourselves from the table.
We were strolling along the main hallway when Trace suggested we go swimming.
"But I don't have my swimsuit!" I whined.
"Then get naked," he winked, leading me out the backdoor. We stepped onto the patio and into the pool area. The water was a crisp blue.
Trace stripped down to his boxers and dove into the water.
"Why is everything so much easier for guys?" I grumbled to myself.
He surfaced in the middle of the pool, shaking his dark hair, sending water flying.
"Get in," he grinned, splashing the water.
I shook my head. "I don't have anything dry to change into."
"You can wear some of my old clothes," he reasoned.
I shook my head at him and stretched across the diving board on my stomach. It swayed under my weight but quickly steadied. Trace swam over, underneath the board, and gazed up at me. I removed the baseball cap I was wearing and tossed it onto the patio. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair, and it fell forward, the ends skimming the water. I had already taken my shoes off in the house.
Trace grabbed ahold of the diving board and I squealed as it dipped down.
"Get in," he pleaded.
"No," I smiled.
Still holding onto the diving board, he leaned forward, and kissed me. His lips tasted like chlorine.
"How about now?" He asked.
"I might need a little more convincing," I giggled.
He kissed me again and his lips lingered against mine.
"Alright, you've convinced me," I smiled.
He smirked, letting go of the diving board. It shook me roughly up and down and I found myself toppling over the side, plunging into the water.
Like the indoor pool, this one was heated, so I didn't have to worry about icy water shocking my system. My clothes were soaked, and since I was wearing a white shirt over a hot pink bra, Trace got an eyeful.
"That was not nice," I wiped water from my eyes.
"I was afraid you'd chicken out on me," he swam towards me.
"I think I got water up my nose," I complained.
He pressed a kiss to the end of my nose. "There, now it's all better."
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "Definitely not. But if you want to believe you made it feel better, then that's fine with me."
"I can make anything better with a little kiss," he pressed his lips against my neck where my pulse raced.
He most certainly could, but I wasn't telling him that.
"I had fun today with your brother and grandpa," I said instead.
"Gramps loves you," Trace chuckled. "Even more now that you can shoot," he winked. "Gramps always tried to get Grammy to learn, but she never wanted to."
"I'm glad I put that on my list, now...I feel...unstoppable," my fingers tangled in his hair.
He chuckled. "Unstoppable, huh?"
"Yeah, you better watch out," I laughed.
"Should I be afraid?" He grinned, his eyes a light green.
"Very," I smiled, "my boyfriend taught me and I have excellent aim...now."
"Remind me not to make you mad," he murmured huskily, sucking a spot on my neck.
"If you keep doing that, I don't think I'll ever get mad," I whispered. My eyes closed and I bit down on my lip to prevent a moan from escaping.
"Cannonball!" Trent yelled, a moment before he catapulted into the pool, and splashed our faces with water.
And just like that, Trace's little brother had effectively ruined the moment.
Swimming over to us, Trent pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Wanna play a game of water volleyball?"
I looked at Trace and shrugged. "Sounds fun," I smiled at Trent.
"That's fine with me," Trace ruffled his brother's wet hair.
"Don't do that," Trent complained, swimming away, while fixing his hair. He unrolled the net that stretched across the pool and hopped out to grab the ball.
I swam to the shallow end so I could stand and Trace followed me.
"I'll be on your team," he winked at me as he stood. The water slid down his chest and I prayed I didn't drool.
Trent returned, jumping into the pool with the ball. He surfaced and sputtered, "I would say two against one isn't fair but since I know I can beat you two easily, I'm not going to complain."
"Keep on thinking that little brother!" Trace chimed as Trent spiked the ball.
Trace hit it back over the net and so it went.
★★★
"Told you I'd win," Trent smirked as we dried off with the blue and white striped fluffy towels.
"How long are you going to brag about this?" Trace grumbled, pulling his jeans on, over his wet boxers.
"Till the end of time, sounds about right," Trent chortled.
Trace shook his head, sending water droplets flying. "Come on, Olivia. Let's grab you some dry clothes and then we'll get out of here."
"Okay," I smiled. I turned to Trent and hugged him. He seemed surprised by the gesture but quickly wrapped his arms around me. "Thanks for hanging out with us today. I had fun."
"I did too," he smiled and his adorable dimples popped out.
I scurried after Trace and up the staircase. I was surprised there wasn't an elevator...then again, maybe there was, and I had never seen it.
I followed Trace into his closet, stripping out of my wet t-shirt and shorts, changing into one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of mesh shorts that I had to tighten all the way with the white drawstring.
"You make my clothes look so much better than I do," he murmured in my ear, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I inhaled his natural scent mixed with chlorine from the pool.
"Is that so?" I beamed.
"Uh-huh," he pulled one of my earlobes between his teeth and nibbled. "Wanna go back to my place? Or do you want me to drop you off at your dorm?"
"What do you think?" I smiled as my arms went around his shoulders.
"I think, option number one sounds like a mighty fine idea to me," he grinned.
"Same here," I kissed his lips. I meant for it to be a quick kiss but Trace had other ideas. His tongue flicked against my lips, seeking entrance. "Mmm," I hummed as his tongue flicked against mine.
"We better get out of here," he breathed as he took a step back, away from me, "but first," he smiled, reaching into his pocket. "You have something to cross off."
I took the piece of paper from him as he produced a pen from his pocket. The items I had crossed off myself had a straight line drawn through them, while Trace's lines were squigglier.
My Live List
1. Get drunk
2. Fly in a hot air balloon
3. Go to the carnival
4. Go to a concert (even if it's someone I've never heard of)
5. Go to a party
6. Lose my virginity
7. Dance in the rain
8. Go roller skating
9. See the ocean
10. Learn to paint
11. Get a dog...or a cat...or a rabbit. Any pet will do.
12. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn't count.
13. Make more friends
14. Shoot a gun
15. Smoke
16. Get a tattoo
17. Learn to pole dance
18. Go skinny dipping
19. Pierce my belly button
20. Fall in love
I couldn't believe that so many things had been completed. I handed the paper and pen back to Trace and he stuck it back in his pocket for safe keeping.
"Ready?" He asked.
I nodded.
Ellie and Lily had returned from their spa day, and everyone was gathered in the family room, where we said our goodbyes. I may have been nervous to meet them, and overwhelmed by the big house, but the Wentworth's truly were some of the nicest people I had ever met. I hugged Warren for an exceptionally long time. When classes ended, I hoped I'd have time to visit him some.
"Be a good girl now," he kissed my cheek, "and keep that grandson of mine in line."
"I will," I smiled.
"Stop trying to steal my girlfriend, Gramps," Trace laughed.
"I can't help it that the ladies can't resist me," Warren chuckled warmly. "It's the cane," he winked as he hobbled over to Ellie, kissing his wife.
It was clear, that even after all these years, he loved his wife and she loved him. I wanted that and I believed I'd found it in Trace.