Chapter Seven
Trace bit hard on the inside of his cheek. At least he had one fan in town, although that was small comfort when he was on the receiving end of a dress-down from a pint-sized lunatic. Whatever had happened to this CiCi person, she needed to chill. How could a woman be this wound up before eight a.m.? Immediately, his brain landed on a very dirty answer. Trace McBride would conclude she obviously needed a very thorough f*****g. His d**k jerked in agreement. He bit down harder on his cheek.
Sadly, horizontal action of any kind was out of the question for Trace Walker. Even if the tiny spitfire pushed buttons he didn't know he had. He'd always gravitated to willowy blondes whose personalities wouldn't compete with his, so he wasn't quite sure where this spark of interest was c
