Page 71 of Tracking Wolfe

I remembered Trace and Ollie both being around a lot when I was younger, like satellites orbiting our family dependably and steadily. “When I was little, I thought the two of you were together,” I admitted.

Trace laughed and set us back on the path so we were moving forward again. “You didn’t realize I was gay?”

I shook my head. “I just knew that Molly Hovan’s nanny had a boyfriend, so I assumed my nanny had one, too. And since you were the one hanging around Ollie all the time, it had to be you.”

He grinned. “Logical, I guess.”

“Then I realized you were gay when you dated Ryan.” I scowled at the trail. “Fucking hated that guy.”

Trace’s laughter was bright and easy, and I felt it ease all the muscles in my back and shoulders. “Ryan. Wonder where he is now.”

“Prison?” I grumbled. “Would serve him right after what he did.”

“What’d he do?”

I stared at him. How could he not remember? “Uh, broke your heart, Trace. You cried for two days!”

Trace stopped again to face me. He studied me for a moment, then cupped my cheeks and leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “You have a giant heart,” he said softly. “And I hope that never changes.”

I wrapped my arms around his broad back and held him for another deep kiss before asking what he meant.

He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “I was crying because I lost a principal at work. A woman I’d been protecting for the better part of a year was killed in a car accident. When I told Ryan, he made a joke about it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back on our relationship. But I wasn’t crying for him. I was crying for her.”

I thought about it for a second, then narrowed my eyes and muttered, “Never mind. Prison’s too good for Ryan.”

Trace whistled low. “Damn. What happened to my sweet, peace-loving Wolfe Marian?” he teased.

“I am peace-loving. But I’ll burn the world if you hurt or threaten someone I…” I had to physically swallow back the word that was on the tip of my tongue. “…care about.”

Thankfully, Trace didn’t seem to notice my almost-stumble.

“Well, I’m glad to still be one of those people,” he said.

“Of course you are.” I shrugged. “You’re family. You always will be.”

Even if I was starting to worry that he’d always be way more than that to me.

As we continued up the trail again, we stayed away from tricky topics like my crush on him or any thoughts he might have had about me.

But eventually, he broached a different subject. “Tell me about Thornton.”

The question surprised me. “I told you everything back then.”

“It scared you. The comparisons to your father.”

I glanced over, but Trace’s eyes were focused in the distance, where the trees ended and the wide-open view began.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “It hadn’t really hit me until then that there would be no way to have a successful music career without Jude Marian’s ghost haunting the fuck out of it.”

Trace’s eyes turned to meet mine. “Unless you got creative.”

My heart rate picked up as I studied his face for clues that he knew… anything. “What do you mean?” I asked carefully.

He shrugged. “You’re talented as fuck, and I know better than anyone that you had big dreams back then. You must have felt lonely. I’m sorry, baby.”

I swallowed hard. It had been lonely.

Was lonely.