Chapter Thirty-two
The next morning, Dylan flew the Gulfstream back to East Langden. Back to Gracie.
He doubted if either he or Gracie were the most trusting people in the world these days. Trust was something they’d have to relearn together. He hoped he hadn’t left it until too late to convince her to give him a try. He’d do his best.
His sister and brother-in-law thought that would be enough.
Wyatt thought that would be enough.
Ryan thought he was nuts to be considering marriage, but whatever. Ryan had been a little down lately.
Dylan hoped his best effort would be enough for Gracie. And he hoped to God she’d booted that pretentious snob Delacort’s butt all the way back to Hartford. If she hadn’t, Dylan just might do the job himself.
At Liberty House, Clay and Tanya stepped out the back door with a little boy just as Dylan emerged from the rental car. It would probably take some time before Clayton felt truly at ease with him, but most of the obvious animosity had disappeared. They eyed each other carefully.
“How’s David?” he asked.
“Improving slowly.” Clay shuffled his feet and hoisted the little boy into his arms. “He and Gracie told me about what happened with David your dad. Thanks for not pressing charges.”
“What good would it do? Wrongs have been committed on all sides. I hope we can put the past behind us.”
“That’s very generous of you.” Clay extended his hand in friendship. “Here’s to the future.”
Tanya caressed the child’s head. “I don’t think you’ve met my son. Dylan, this is Aidan.”
“Hi, Aidan. How old are you?”
“I’m free.” Aidan held up three fingers. “How old are you?.”
“Aidan!” Tanya exclaimed, but Clay and Dylan laughed.
“It’s a fair question. I asked him first, after all. I’m thirty-two, but I have a nephew who’s three, so I’m familiar with the age.” He took Tanya’s left hand in his and fingered the diamond ring there. “But what’s this? New jewelry?”
“You can give me a hug,” Tanya said to Dylan, beaming. “I’m an engaged woman.”
“Congratulations!” He obeyed her command. “To you, too,” he said to Clay. “We’re not brothers, but we are cousins. That makes us family, and I don’t have much to spare these days. Maybe we can put our differences behind us.”
Clay narrowed his eyes. “That depends on whether or not you plan to do right by Gracie.”
“That’s why I’m here. Think I have a shot?”
“Good as any,” his cousin prophesied. “And you just caught her. She’s going back to Hartford this afternoon.”
“She’s in the carriage house packing,” Tanya revealed. “Good luck.”
Dylan rushed up the stairs with his heart beating in his throat. MacDuff woofed a welcome before he knocked.
Gracie opened the door holding a wedding bouquet in her hands. A spark of hope flared in her beautiful brown eyes that widened in disbelief. “What?”
All his carefully planned speeches flew out of his head. “What’s with the flowers? You’re not going to marry Baxter, are you?” Logically, he knew there was no way. Emotionally, he worried.
A hint of a smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “Would that be a problem?”
“Hell, yes, that would be a problem.” He pushed past her and into the apartment. “I know him, Gracie. I know him and his kind too well. I used to be his kind! A self-centered, two-timing player. He won’t care about making you happy. He just wants you to make him happy. If you’re willing to marry someone like him, marry me instead.” Well, crap. That hadn’t come out right.
She laughed. He hadn’t expected that, but he had bungled the proposal pretty badly. Laughter and Gracie were an irresistible combination.
“I caught the bouquet at my cousin Marley’s wedding yesterday.” She stuck the flowers into a vase on the counter. “I was considering whether to take it with me or leave it here.” She turned to him and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not marrying Baxter, but thank you very much for the moving proposal. Maybe you should try again. This time expand on the part about how you won’t be a good husband. I want to hear all about that before I make my decision.”
Encouraged despite his ineptness, he shook his head. “I’ll try to be a good husband, Gracie. I’ll try to be all the things you want and deserve. But you should know up front, I might not live up to your expectations. Or mine. But I love you. And I’ll try every day of our lives to make the good side of the scale outweigh the bad. Will you trust me to do that?”
She wrapped her fingers around his out-stretched hand. “I love you and I’ll trust you to do that.” She looked happier but still wary and uncertain. “But that wasn’t the only obstacle standing between us.”
“What else?” he asked, eager to dispose of all her worries.
“I have a career I love,” she said. “I won’t be a decorative fluff-ball of a wife, you know, ordered up on a whim for photo opportunities, social activities, and mindless sex then set aside to arrange flowers in the parlor till you’re ready for me again. Maybe for the mindless sex, but the rest of it, no.”
He took a step closer because this one was easy. “I’d never stand in the way of your career. It’s one of the things I love about you most. And the round of partying grew old a long time ago. Now, most of my social activities are charity events, and except for the Bradford Foundation activities, we can attend those or not—your choice.”
He swept her into his arms, thinking he’d shown admirable restraint not to kiss her the second he saw her, but she held him at arm’s length. “Hang on.”
“What else?”
“Your job is in New York. Mine is in Hartford. Where would we live?”
He frowned, because this one was a little more difficult. “With the Internet and conference calls, I can work from anywhere most of the time. My brother-in-law has decided he’d like a job with more regular hours. He’s joining Grandfather Steadman’s firm, which will allow me more time away from the office.
“We can live in my house in Hartford if you want, so that’s a non-problem. Sometimes I’ll need to be in New York, so I’ll keep my apartment there. But I’ll arrange those visits around your schedule whenever possible. If you’d rather live somewhere other than New York or Hartford, we can. Like Paris. Or London. Or here.”
“Here? In East Langden?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know the whole town would like for you to open a practice here. And I’ve been thinking about things we could do with the Old Maine building. Like start a co-op for the local carpenters and craftsmen. Maybe other vendors would like to participate, too.”
“You’d do that?”
“It makes sense. It wouldn’t be like giving them their old jobs back, but it might help supplement their incomes or their retirements. Boost the local economy.”
“You’re too good to be true.” She began kissing him then with such delicious enthusiasm that their clothes disappeared somehow. They were both naked within minutes.
“How’d that happen?” Bending his head to her neck, he breathed in her scent, her essence, her Gracie-ness.
“One of the miracles of love.” She slipped her arms around his neck.
“I think I’m going to like this love business.”
“Oh, you are.” She rubbed herself against him. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Speaking of miracles of love...” Now it was his turn to take a step back. “Do you know yet if we made a baby or not?”
Her smile grew wary. “Does the answer to that question have any bearing on your proposal?”
“Nope,” he assured her, rubbing his palm against her tummy. “The only difference will be in timing. If you’re knocked up, I want to get married next week. If you’re not, we can wait until next month.”
She bit her bottom lip. “What if I still don’t know?”
“You want to have kids sooner or later, right?”
“Right.”
“I vote for sooner. Let’s get busy and increase our chances.” When she laughed, he scooped her up in his arms. Heading toward the bedroom, he tripped over her luggage. “Oh, yeah,” he said after he’d regained his balance. “Tanya and Clay told me you were going back to Hartford.”