Designed by Love (9 page)

And Dylan had promised to return at first light so Kaci could get to work in her classroom at Angel Falls High. It was finals week, after all.

He splashed water on his face while the coffeemaker gurgled and spat, then dried himself with a hand towel and filled a thermos to cart next door.

Somewhere between the kitchen doorway and the front porch, he froze as a realization hit him with a force greater than last night's thunderstorm.

He cared about Traci…loved her.

Rephrase that—he was completely and irrevocably
in love
with Traci Stanton.

Now, the only question that remained was…did Traci feel the same. And if she did, what were they going to do about it?

 

 

 

 

9

 

Dylan returned to Traci's cottage after delivering his music equipment to the big house. It had taken him longer than he'd planned to set up, and then Kevin had needed help with last-minute details on the arbor. The wedding cake was already displayed in the great room, taking the honors as the centerpiece of the sweets table. He'd helped Traci deliver it earlier that morning.

He climbed the stairs to find Traci, thinking once again of how they made a good team. She'd been a little shaky in the days following the storm and the resulting bump on her head, and Dylan kept close watch over her. He'd enjoyed spending the extended time with her and helped keep her business going, working at her side to fill a string of orders. After assisting Traci in filling the orders for two-dozen or so cakes, Dylan by no means considered himself to be an expert in the cake-baking department, but he certainly knew his way around a roll of fondant.

He knew it made Traci proud. She'd gloated to her customers, much to Dylan's chagrin. He'd rather keep things on the down-low, as far as the baking went. At least he'd talked Traci into a few plain, white chefs' aprons which were more suited to his taste than the candy-apple appliques she sported. That was certainly a plus.

Dylan opened the front door and entered Traci's living room without knocking, as had become a habit. He called her name, grinned when she called back. Then, as he rounded the corner toward the kitchen, she took his breath away.

“Wow…” Was all Dylan could manage as he gaped, mouth dropped wide as a fly-catcher. She'd exchanged her flour-dusted work clothes for a silky dress in a shade of buttercream that accentuated her curves and complemented the bright green hue that her hazel eyes had chosen for the day. Her hair was a mass of sunlit blonde waves that caressed tanned shoulders.

“Perfect timing, as usual.” The dress's hem kissed Traci's calves as she turned away from the fridge. She held a pitcher of tea garnished with orange slices in one hand as she smiled. “So, you like my dress?”

“That's an understatement.” Dylan struggled to retrieve his tongue from his throat. “You look…lovely.”

She pirouetted before pausing at a cabinet to retrieve a pair of tall glasses. “How are things shaping up at the big house? Do we have enough time for a glass of sweet tea?”

“That sounds great. It's hot outside, but not as bad as the forecasters predicted. The humidity's almost nonexistent and there's a slight breeze coming out of the north.”

“That sounds perfect.” Traci set the pitcher on the counter and crossed over to him. The scent of her perfume filled his senses as her words sent sparks flying up his spine. “You look handsome in your suit, too. When did you change?”

“Between setting up the sound mixer and helping Kevin rearrange the potted plants around the arbor… and returning to you.”

“You smell good.” She nudged her nose against his neck, inhaling. “Clean.”

“I should hope so. It took a lot of soap to get the dirt off my hands. Only Kevin would consider rearranging the landscaping merely an hour before the wedding begins.”

“It's a shame to waste all that clean.” Traci's breath warmed his neck. “How about a hug?”

“I can do better than that.” Dylan gathered her in, drew her close, and lowered his mouth to hers. He got lost in the kiss and could sense, by the sigh that escaped her lips, that she'd fallen as well. When he came up for air, her eyes were glassy. Dylan chuckled as he smoothed a knuckle along the gentle curve of her jaw. “What do you think? More?”

“Yes, please.”

At her words, a familiar thrill coursed through Dylan, one that had only seemed to intensify as the days had passed into weeks…then a month. He expected the pattern to continue, and wondered how his heart could take it.

He kissed Traci once more and then spun her around the kitchen, humming a few strains of her cherished Vivaldi that had become so familiar. He ventured to ask, “So, what do you think of weddings?”

Traci gazed up at him as he dipped her, cradling her carefully in his arms. “They're good for business.”

“Besides that.”

“Oh…” Traci pressed a finger to her kiss-bruised lips. “I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at.”

She was toying with him, so Dylan silenced her with another kiss. Then he delved into his pocket, drawing out a small, velvet box. “Does this help?”

 

****

 

“I…oh, my.” Traci's hands flew to cover her cheeks as heat coursed over her skin. “Dylan, what is that?”

“Open it.”

Her breath caught, and in a single moment Traci relived the events of the past several weeks as Dylan's gaze studied her with a love she'd never imagined she'd find. He'd been there for her when she'd needed him most, following the storm and the accident that made it, for a stretch of days, difficult to complete even simple tasks. She'd thought she'd have to cancel orders, return money to the customers who had entrusted her to help them celebrate their special days. She resigned herself of putting off her dream of a cake shop, but Dylan had kept that dream alive as he remained close to her side, helping her through the darkness.

She imagined he'd remain there—at her side—where she knew he longed to be. He'd told her so, on countless occasions.

“Dylan…” His name was perfect on her lips as she lifted the lid of the box, resting it back along the hinge. Inside, a diamond set into a delicate gold band winked. “Is this what I think…do you mean…?” Traci couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She stood there, paralyzed by the wave of emotion that swept through her.

Then Dylan went down on one knee, gazing up at her with his smoky eyes and a love so pure and true.

“Traci.” He took her hand and the single word on his lips—her name—caused Traci to tremble with delight. “I can't explain it…won't even attempt to explain how I've come to this point—how
we've
come to this point. I couldn't possibly do justice to the angels that I know, with complete and utter certainty—watch over us even as I speak.”

“Somehow, from the moment I first saw you that day on the path to my cottage, I knew”—he drew the ring from the box and then laced the fingers of one hand with hers as he continued—“I just
knew
that you were the one I'd been waiting for…the one I'm meant to spend my life with. I felt this…” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Something—an emotion so powerful, it's beyond words.”

“I understand.” Traci caressed his cheek with the palm of her free hand. She truly
did
understand—exactly and without reservation. “I felt it, too.”

“I can't imagine spending my life without you. I want…you to be my wife.” Dylan handed the ring to her. “Will you marry me, for better or worse, music and all?”

Traci's laughter danced on the air. “I love you, Dylan. I'd be honored…oh, so honored…to become your wife.” With a trembling hand, she slipped the ring onto the proper finger. “It's a perfect fit. But, how did you know?”

“Miss Vivian suggested the size. I don't know why, but she stopped by my cottage a few days ago and said she thought I needed a number. She told me to go with five and a half.”

“And she didn't say why?”

“No. But I gave it a try and from the looks of things, she was right.” He touched the ring that now graced Traci's finger. “Go figure.”

“Those angels are tricky.” Traci held her hand to the window, smiling as the diamond captured sunlight that refracted into a rainbow along the kitchen wall. “I suppose we'll need another wedding cake.”

“Coconut free.”

“Maybe we should ask your mom to scour her recipe file.”

“I'm sure she'll be honored. Now, I'd like a kiss from the soon-to-be Traci Jones…”

“I like the ring of that.” Traci smiled as the keys in Dylan's pocket jangled. She caught the necklace that slipped from the bodice of her dress and skimmed the pair of hearts with her finger. “I think the angels do, too.”

 

 

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AMDG