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Chrissie was one of those people who liked event-opening ceremonies. She liked knowing the history of whatever was taking place, of who the funds were going to help, of who they had already helped. Tonight’s was no exception.
Listening to Bud and Agnes talk about their daughter who’d died with cancer at such a young age, of the heartbreaking prevalence of childhood cancers, listening to how they had formed the Children’s Cancer Prevention Organization and how the charity had grown, and their hope it would expand further into more cities, filled her heart with warm emotion.
She simply could not imagine something happening to Joss or how she would react if it did. Like Bud and Agnes, she’d like to think she’d deal with her grief in a way that would make the world a better place for others.
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to function at all.
“What are you thinking?”
Chrissie jumped at Trace’s question. “I didn’t see you.”
“Obviously.” His gaze was on her rather than the stage where Agnes spoke. “You were lost in your thoughts.”
“I was marveling at how Bud and Agnes turned something so personally tragic into something so positive.”
“They are good people who live to give to others.”
“Some would say a man who gave up four years of his life to help others was a good person, too.”
His expression tightened. “On my best day I don’t measure up to the man and woman on that stage.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t say I meant you,” Chrissie assured him, grateful when his serious expression lightened at her comment, as she’d intended.
There was something darker about him than she remembered. No doubt the things he’d seen over the past four years had changed him.
Was there anyone in Trace’s life that made it better? Someone who helped him deal with the no doubt tragic situations he’d encountered while working overseas?
“Is Alexis an old girlfriend?” That wasn’t what she’d meant to ask when she’d opened her mouth.
“We went out a few times.”
His smile was quick and too cocky for her liking. He knew she was jealous of the woman. Great.
“Which is more than you can say about me, so I guess that answers my question.” Which probably only made her sound jealous and bitter and judgmental. Ugh. She should keep her mouth shut.
“What question would that be?”
“Whether or not you’d slept with her.” She fought to keep the image of him with the woman from her mind. An image she’d fought for four years. She’d just never had a face to put with her thoughts of what he’d been doing while she’d been raising their son.
“I haven’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.”
“I said she and I went out a few times. I didn’t say we had ‘stayed in’ a few times.” At her continued doubt, he added, “I have no reason to lie to you.”
He had a point. He owed her nothing, least of all a defense of whether or not he’d had sex with someone.
“No, I guess you don’t,” s
he admitted, trying to hide the fact that she was happy he hadn’t slept with the beautiful Alexis.
“Would it matter if I had?”
Good grief. Could he see inside her head or what?
“No.” But she was lying. It would have mattered. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it would have. Because of Joss, she told herself. That was why she cared who he’d slept with and who he hadn’t. Because she’d given birth to his child that made her more possessive, more concerned. At least, that was what she was going to keep telling herself, as she conveniently ignored the fact he’d been out of the country for four years.
