Ellen and Jeremy were old for their age, protective and a hint overbearing sometimes, but they knew Trace. She was like them in a lot of ways, her love of curling up with a cup of coffee on a rainy morning, her big heart, and that tendency to turn inward when the world got complicated. But there was this adventurous side of her that was uniquely Trace, who loved to travel, to laugh wildly with friends, a creative and curious soul. She just needed to find that confidence she’d lost along the way. And that, he could absolutely relate to.
If they thought she picked out his new wardrobe, did they think he’d picked out hers?
Trace was probably put off by discovering that she had been his imaginary lover for so long. Yeah. Probably shouldn’t have told her, but it felt dishonest not to. He’d told a lot of lies in his life, but keeping anything from her was a bizarre level of hell.
“Sounds like everyone’s doing their own thing tonight,” Trace said flatly as she read a text on her phone.
“K,” he said, not knowing how to respond.
“A few are already there, but some are still at work and will filter in.”
“K.”
Another hour went by. Nothing.
They made their way south and finally jagged off the freeway toward the Oregon Coast and the smaller towns that dotted it. Highways widened and slowed through towns which became smaller the farther they got from the freeway. The houses grew taller to see past the ones in front, the trees angled with the wind. The ocean made its presence clear, even though it wasn’t visible yet.
Trace texted someone now and again, but she didn’t say anything.
“Sunset Lodge?” he asked, breaking the brittle silence over the pummeling of the rain on the windshield.
“Yeah. It’s on the south side of town.”
“Have you been there?”
“No. It looks really nice online.” Trace seemed to brighten as the conversation stayed light, bringing warm inflections back into her voice. “Asher was not keen on waiting any longer, and Pippa was determined to make it special so he and Sophie didn’t actually elope.”
“Sounds about right.”
As the commotion of town thinned and the houses increased, he saw the sign to their hotel and turned down the smaller street. Still couldn’t see the ocean, a tall grass-covered sand berm blocking the narrow spaces between houses, restaurants, and the hotel.
He pulled into a parking space and stole a quick glance at Trace.
She smiled softly, still quiet since she’d stolen her panties back from him.
The moment he stepped outside, the salt air filled his lungs and coated his skin in a cool balm. The rain wasn’t so bad now, dabbling in a steady pattern.
When he reached the back, Trace was just sliding out his bag and passed it to him, then grabbed hers.
At least they’d outlawed suits for the wedding. He was not keen on strapping a tie around his neck, nor making a last-minute run to the only nice clothing store in town to see if they had anything that wouldn’t make him look like a penguin, a golfer, or a Las Vegas tycoon.
Cole held back as Trace took the lead, exuding enough manners and politeness for them both, marveling at the interior as they walked past the wooden bench covered with sea creature pillow-cased cushions in the entry. The lobby was grand with a massive stone hearth and a table with coffee and cookies. Driftwood and blue and white décor introduced the place as a coastal getaway, yet it had the warm grandeur of a mountain lodge with the oversized fireplace and overstuffed, sasquatch size furniture. The cookies smelled great, but thanks to getting hooked on Ellen’s, he didn’t care to waste his time with other cookies.
“Hello,” greeted a woman sitting behind a long desk. “Checking in?”
“Yes,” Trace said, strolling up and taking the seat opposite the host.
Cole stood back, waiting for his turn.
“Trace Perry. And this is Cole Falk.”
“The Sutherland-Jones wedding group. Excellent. We weren’t able to get all of your rooms together, but I think yours is right in the middle, actually,” the woman said, pensively looking to the wooden beams on the ceiling for confirmation that she’d remembered correctly.
That was good. Trace would prefer being in the middle of everything. She nodded politely, waiting with her credit card and driver’s license.
Cole wandered over to the coffee area and poured two cups. He walked back over and slid a cup on the desk in front of Trace.
She looked up and whispered, “Lifesaver. Thanks.”
