Trace of Fever - Lori Foster [63]
“You don’t stay here?” She’d been going on the assumption that they all lived in the house together.
He shook his head. “Did you see the smaller house that’s closer to the lake?”
“Yes.” She’d noticed it when she was outside with Trace, but hadn’t paid much attention, not with her and Trace’s conversation.
“That’s my house. I like my privacy.”
Priss rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine any place getting more private than this setup.”
“True enough. But with those two—” he nodded at Dare and Molly, already cuddled close on the opposite side of the bar “—it’s nice to move out of hearing range each night.”
Dare reached over to smack Chris on the back of the head, but he ducked away.
Trace said, “The honeymoon will never wear off for those two.”
That sounded really nice to Priss. With her mother’s mental instability and then lingering illness, and the un-complimentary atmosphere of her workplace, she’d never really been around traditional families, much less happily married couples. Molly and Dare looked very happy together.
Priss let out a wistful breath.
Chris mistook that for something altogether different. “While we move this stuff down to my place, did you want to say goodbye to Liger?”
And just that easily, her mood darkened. “I love that big cat, Chris.”
All joking aside, he said, “That much was obvious.”
“You damn well better pamper him.”
“Guaranteed.”
Molly reached across the bar to touch her arm. “We’ll all give him plenty of attention and love, I promise. Please don’t worry about that.”
They did seem like animal lovers; Dare’s girls were certainly pampered. They were members of the family, which made it all the more special.
Priss took her time talking quietly with Liger, hoping he’d understand her absence and not feel abandoned. He touched his nose to hers, gave her one of his sweet little meows, then went to lie by Tai and Sargie.
It was almost as if he wanted her to know that he’d be fine. She swallowed a lump of emotion and blinked back hot tears.
By the time she and Trace were back in the old truck, ready to pull away, Priss did feel better about leaving Liger behind.
“At least he’ll be safe,” she said as much to herself as to anyone else.
Trace put a hand on her knee. “That’s more than I can say for you.”
Dare leaned in her window. “Be smart, Priss, and listen to Trace.”
Priss scowled at him. “Why doesn’t he have to listen to me?”
After a long stare-off, Dare peered past Priss to Trace and said, totally deadpan, “Listen to Priss.”
Trace grinned. “I’ll try if she will.”
Priss put up her chin. “I make no promises—but whenever possible, I’ll try.”
Dare reached in and ruffled her perfectly styled hair, much like she’d seen him do with his dogs. Trace didn’t like that, which amused Priss. His territorial tendencies were new to her. Sure, her employee Gary tried to act possessive, but that idea was so laughable that it annoyed more than it complimented.
As Trace backed out, Priss waved to the assembly in the driveway. It included Chris, Dare and Molly, with both dogs and Liger lounging in the sunshine.
It was the strangest thing, but it felt like she was leaving…family. Not the dysfunctional family she and her mother had formed, but a real family.
Pressing a fist to her chest to try to contain the hurt in her heart, Priss accepted the sad truth: after she retrieved Liger, the chances of her ever seeing these people again would be slim to none, and slim was out of town.
They were nothing to her—just as she was nothing to them. For the first time, she really felt the loss.
“You okay, Priss?”
God, it amazed her how easily Trace picked up on her moods. He’d done that from the very beginning, which either made him lethally perceptive, or…a truly wonderful guy.
Resting her head back against the seat, she looked at him. He had a gorgeous profile. She’d teased Molly about the guys always being handsome, but to her, Trace was by far the most incredible. Even this Jackson person Molly had mentioned couldn’t hold a candle to Trace, she