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
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
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