Designed by Love (7 page)

“I've got it covered.” Traci took the envelope and tucked it into her order book on the counter. “I promise your cake will be perfect.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” Kaci backed through the doorway with Ryne in tow. “You two…enjoy your time.”

“Oh, we will.” Dylan squeezed Traci's hand, leaving her wondering if she'd missed a scene somewhere along the way, as well. Had she really only known him for a few weeks? It felt more like a lifetime—and not in a bad way. The gentle warmth of his touch held a promise of so much more as he said goodbye to their friends. “See you later.”

 

 

 

 

6

 

Traci shrugged from the light cotton jeans jacket and tossed it across her bed. One glance around the room told her she'd spent way too much time and energy deciding what to wear to dinner. She was just headed next door, for crying out loud. Why was she stressing so much over an outfit?

The answer came in a neat little one-word package, tall dark and handsome—Dylan.

Somehow, he'd gotten under her skin. Traci wasn't sure when, exactly, the transition had taken place. She simply knew that now, whenever she thought of Dylan, his image was accompanied by a
zing
that traveled straight from her common-sense brain to her head-over-heels heart.

Go figure. The guy might not have the best taste in music, but he sure knew how to act like a gentleman.

“I don't want to hurt you, Traci…”

It was sweet of him to worry over her and those simple, heartfelt words warmed Traci to the core. She remembered the way they'd danced in the rain yesterday afternoon. Though exhaustion had burned deep into her bones, she'd still hummed from the thrill of his touch as he pulled her close, enfolding her in arms so strong and sure.

“…by making you fall in love with me.”

Was she? Could it possibly—against all odds—happen? The heart pendant that adorned Traci's neck glittered beneath the overhead lights. Was there a purpose in Miss Vivian's gift to her? What had Andrew Hart meant to say? Did it have something to do with Dylan?

It was as if she and Dylan shared a connection that went beyond rationality. When he'd left by way of her patio door the night before, after sharing a cup of tea and polishing off what was left of the cookies, she was convinced he had intentions to claim a kiss. But he'd surprised her by holding back. Traci wasn't sure whether she should be annoyed or honored by his restraint.

She chuckled to herself. She was overthinking this whole situation much more than she had a right to. Dylan had asked her to dinner, plain and simple. He meant only to make up for causing her undue work the other night. She was thankful for the kindness, but his aloof attitude during the reception yesterday, coupled with his concerns for wounding her heart, spoke volumes. Despite her impression of his intentions, he wasn't interested in anything more than dinner conversation. How could he be, when they'd barely scraped the surface of knowing one another?

Traci lifted the jeans jacket from the growing clothes heap on her bed and tugged it back over her shoulders before smoothing the front of her sundress and doing a quick three-sixty in the bevel mirror nestled along one corner of her room. Dinner waited, and she'd enjoy it—right down to the coconut fudge brownies that Dylan had promised.

And if Dylan decided he wanted to claim a kiss, well, she'd just cross that bridge when she came to it.

 

****

 

“Wow, these are delicious.” Traci swallowed the nibble of powdered-sugar-dusted brownie that Dylan had just removed from the oven, sliced and served topped with a scoop of vanilla-bean ice cream. “There's hardly even a hint of coconut and the fudge flavor…oh, oh, oh! I have to have the recipe.”

“It's top-secret, high-level classified.” Dylan laughed at her theatrics, though he had to admit the stamp of approval calmed him. He'd been such a jumble of nerves with her at his side that he'd nearly charbroiled the T-bones to ashes. He tried to put his finger on why. He'd never been so completely…out of sorts in the company of a woman. He hoped Traci didn't notice before he was able to rein things in. He speared the last of his brownie with his fork and tucked it into his mouth. “I'll never tell.”

“I'll bet I can weasel it out of you.”

“You could try, but I'm conditioned against coercive tactics.” He dropped the fork, crossed his arms and flexed his biceps. “Pure Teflon.”

“I was afraid of that. It doesn't hurt a girl to try, though.”

“We could work something out. I'd like to share dinner and dessert with you in more than a passing fashion.” She was a breath of fresh air, witty and energetic. And she enjoyed his dry sense of humor. That was a definitely a plus.

And the way sunlit blonde hair spilled across her forehead to frame those alluring eyes that seemed to change from green to blue and back again with each shift of her head…she was the definition of beautiful.

“Sounds tempting.” Traci polished off the brownie and dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “But, I'm afraid if we did that, I'd soon require a bigger size in clothing.”

Dylan could hardly imagine. The sundress clung to her slight curves in all the right places while the floral pattern brought out green flecks that brightened her eyes. “I've seen you running along the greenway. You keep a pretty tough pace. That kind of workout has to burn the calories.”

“I try to take an evening run four or five times through the week. Getting my heart rate up kicks out the cobwebs and clears my mind so I sleep better at night, think clearer during the day. I focus much better when I stick to my running schedule, and get things done more efficiently.”

“Music does the same for me. Sometimes when I lay down at night memories from my tour—the chaos—creep in. It's unsettling. But if I listen to music, it drowns out all of that, kind of like filing notes into different drawers of a cabinet. I still take them out sometimes, study them, but the music affords me a little more control of where and when I do that.”

“You've seen things, haven't you, that aren't meant to be seen by human eyes.”

“Yes. It comes with the territory. I knew that going in.”

“Even so, I'm so sorry for your pain.”

“It is what it is…it's helped shape who I am today—for better or worse.”

“Well, for the better would be my guess. You're a good man, Dylan, even if your choice in music is a little iffy.”

“I might surprise you. My collection is vast and eclectic. One day soon I'll give you a tour of my virtual music library.”

“I'd like that.” She nodded. “I haven't heard you blasting it in a few days.”

“I took your advice, dusted off my headphones. As for running along the greenway trail…I hope you'll heed
my
advice.”

“And what would that be?”

“You shouldn't go by yourself, at least not at night. It's dangerous to be out there alone in the dark. Something could happen.”

“Yeah, I could trip over my own two feet, klutz that I am.” Traci laughed. “But, that aside, the path is fairly well-lit, and I've managed just fine up to this point.”

“Even so, the thought makes me uneasy.”

“Because I'm female?”

“Because I care.” Dylan took her plate and crossed to the sink. “And caring about you makes me worry.”

“That's sweet, Dylan.”

“Well…it goes with the territory.” He took up the pitcher of sweet Texas tea and refilled her glass. “I've seen bad things happen in an instant, the tides change without warning. Storms come up quickly around here, not to mention the roaming wildlife. Promise me you won't run alone after dark anymore. I'll go with you if you can't fit it into your schedule to go any other time.”

“I promise there'll be no more moonlight runs…at least not alone.”

“I'm glad for that.” He settled back into the chair beside her and reached for her hand. “I'm not trying to be difficult.”

“Don't apologize for caring. I'm glad you do, and I'm truly touched by your concern. It's…nice.” She laced her fingers with his and the gesture sent a flash of heat straight to his gut. “And a walk—with you now—would be nice, too. I enjoyed when we walked together…and talked the other night.”

“I can manage that.” He skimmed a knuckle along her jawline. “Do you listen to Vivaldi while you run?”

“No. I listen to the wind, feel the sunshine. I get lost in my thoughts.”

“That's very—”

“Scary?”

“I was going to say interesting, but scary works, too. I can only imagine what flits through that brain of yours while you pay absolutely no attention whatsoever to your surroundings.”

“Tonight it would be those incredible brownies. Remind me to thank your mom, if I ever have the pleasure of meeting her, for sharing her recipe with you.”

“Oh, she grilled me over the reason I asked for it. CSI has nothing on her. So, I guarantee you'll meet her…soon.”

“I see.” Laughter tumbled from Traci. “I look forward to it. Let's take that walk now. We can dive into straightening the kitchen and washing the dishes when we get back.”

“That's an offer I can't refuse.”

 

****

 

“I got a gift from Vivian, too…a few weeks ago while I was moving in.” Dylan shoved a hand into one pocket and brought out a tangle of keys as they paused at a bench along the Angelina Forest greenway that spanned the Heart's Haven property. “It didn't make much sense at the time, why she'd chosen the design. But now I'm wondering…” He handed the keys to Traci. “Well, take a look.”

Traci settled into the bench and waited for Dylan to join her. His shoulder nestled against hers as moonlight spilled over them and the scent of pine whispered. He cared about her. The cautious look that had shadowed his eyes as he implored her to limit her solo runs to daylight hours brought home the point. She was touched beyond words by his concern. No man, besides her father, had ever cared enough to fret over her in such a way.

The keys jangled in Traci's fingers, drawing her back to the task at hand. They were attached to a ring about the size of a half-dollar. Embellished at the top of the circle sat a pair of hearts.

“This looks like a carbon-copy of the necklace Miss Vivian gave me…two hearts intertwined.” Traci lifted one hand to her chest and fingered the delicate silver resting there. “Don't you think that's just a little odd?”

“Maybe. But certainly not in a bad way, by any means.” Dylan scraped a palm over his jaw. “From all accounts, Mr. Hart kept a close eye on the folks who settled into the complex. Perhaps Vivian is just following in his footsteps…keeping the welcoming tradition alive.”

“Could be.” Traci gazed across the expanse of property. In the distance, past cottages that dotted the horizon, sat the big house, with its twinkling lights and massive, welcoming wrap-around porch. In just a few weeks Ryne and Kaci would pledge their wedding vows beneath an arbor adorned with yellow tea roses and grape hyacinth with a touch of verbena. She could almost smell the blooms that had been so carefully planted and tended in the flowerbeds that surrounded the lush grounds of the Hart's stately home. So much love was found there…a waiting pair of open arms in the form of Vivian Hart. Traci sighed and slipped a finger along the key ring, tracing the length of silver. “This stone is aquamarine. It's the birthstone for March…
my
birth month. Is your birthday also in March?”

“No…July. That's odd…aquamarine—your birth month. It could simply be a coincidence but, then again, maybe it's a sign.”

“What kind of sign?”

“With all the romance going on around these parts, maybe we're next in line.” Dylan winked at her. “Maybe we're destined to fall in love.”

“That theory is just…a little bit out there. After all, we've only known each other a couple of weeks.”

“You have to start somewhere.” Dylan's finger skimmed the inside of Traci's wrist, causing her pulse to skitter as his gaze captured hers and held tight. “I have an idea…sort of a test.”

Suddenly, her breath came in small, sharp gasps. She could hardly form a response. “I should let you know that…I suffer from test anxiety.”

“Not with this kind of test.” Dylan leaned in, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as he cupped her chin. “We can see if there's something…” His lips brushed hers. “Anything…”

“Dylan, please…” An explosion of stars erupted as a second kiss silenced Traci. She tumbled heart first into Dylan, splaying a palm to his chest. She was aware of muscles, taut and roped across the wide breadth of his shoulders. Yet, despite his strength, his touch was tender and filled with promises.

“Wow.” Dylan trailed his mouth from her lips to the sensitive spot between her nape and her earlobe, driving Traci to the point of breathlessness before he eased back to lace his fingers with hers. His voice came in jagged bursts. “I've formed—my opinion—on the subject.” Dylan paused to gulp air. He gave her hands a squeeze before continuing. “But I'd like to hear your verdict first.”

“Oh, my…” Traci's racing pulse matched the song of chattering leaves along the treetops. “My verdict…my anxiety just went out the window. I'd say we passed that test with flying colors.”

“Well…that's a relief because I think so, too.” Dylan pressed his lips to her temple as he repeated, “Hands down…me, too.”

 

 

 

 

7

 

“Let me help you with that.” Dylan eased in beside Traci as she unloaded supplies from the trunk of her sedan a few days later.