He's the One by Jane Beckenham (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

It was beautiful. Everything was set. She surveyed her work. Bouquets of rose buds lined the altar, and the gold and pink and blues of the stained glass windows glittered like jewels and lit the grand old church.

Taylor smiled. She'd done well. Her couple's fantasy wedding would come true.

"I can't believe it.” Hair flying in her wake, Nita scurried down the aisle toward her. “Have you got the French ribbon? The four inch wide with golden angels?"

"Of course, in here.” Taylor scrambled in her emergency box but came up empty. “It was, I know I put in here. I never forget things."

"Tell that to the good luck fairy.” Nita's worry lines deepened. “This hasn't been your week for luck, Taylor. Your mind is elsewhere."

Taylor straightened and rubbed her suddenly damp palms down the side of her dress. “Not now Nita. I..."

"You've been preoccupied by a hunk."

"No!” She gripped her bag with knuckle-white intensity, but knew her denial to be futile.

Nita rested a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, Taylor. You're allowed to love. Rob wouldn't want you to still grieve."

"I'm...” But Taylor couldn't finish the sentence. Did Nita think she pined for her dead fiancée? How far from the truth could she be? She hadn't loved Rob, at least like she should have. And that was why she couldn't trust herself now. Oh, she loved Cade. But he didn't want her, and she couldn't give herself to someone who didn't want her.

One day, when she had thought Rob asleep and sat at his bedside, the tears had come and she wept for the liking she had mistaken for love.

But Rob had woken and in that fleeting moment when the subconscious fights with the conscious, she had seen the comprehension in his eyes. He knew her lies.

And she had seen his hurt, too.

He never said anything and had died with the hurt inside, leaving Taylor with the guilt.

"I won't crawl, Nita. Cade needs to figure out that he is himself and not a product of a marriage disaster, nor is it a predetermination for his own"

"My, you have been digging deep."

"I had a phone call from his brother, Zane, that's all."

"And Zane filled you in on the psyche of his brother?"

"Something like that,” she agreed, not wanting really to tell Nita the whole story.

Cade blamed his mother for leaving his father, but in fact his father's drinking had started the process long ago. But when she left, she had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, no way to take her children with her. However, Cade blamed his mother for abandoning him and to this day lived his life by what he perceived as her mistake—to him.

And now, she and Cade were the victims of everyone's lies and truths and hurts.

With Nita offering to save the day, and racing back for the Angel ribbon, Taylor paced the church, glancing at her watch every few seconds. Why was it when disaster struck, time seemed to stand still?

"Taylor?"

Taylor's heart did a triple flip, overtaken by a sudden sense of deja vu. “What are you doing here?"

"Not ‘Hello, Cade. Nice to see you'?” he quipped.

Taylor willed herself to remain calm, balling her hands at her sides, when what she really wanted to do was run them through his hair, hold him and kiss him—a lot.

"You look good. New outfit?” His brows wriggled his approval while his gaze lowered, slowly, teasing over each curve. His lips were pursed as if he was deciding something. “Where have the gray suits all gone? Do they have a ‘suit’ heaven?"

Taylor found herself pulling at the hem of the dress she wore. Nita had said it was okay. It felt far too short.

"The suits weren't that bad."

He gave her a “Really?” sort of quirky smile. “Yes, they were. They covered you neck to knee, hiding the real Taylor Sullivan."

"So is this better?” she asked, unsure why she actually wanted his approval.

With sparkling glints in his eyes, Cade appraised her.

Nothing had changed. The same old temptation, the quirky good boy versus bad boy that had hooked her in the first place.

"Turn around."

"What?"

"I said turn around and give me a twirl."

A Taylor erupted into a fit of giggles. “You're joking; we're in a church."

He glanced over his shoulder toward the closed wooden doors. “Nope. No one around. Just us two. So how about you show off your new dress."

"I ... simply went shopping, that's all,” she hesitated, though her voice sounded far more composed than she felt.

"Brave move."

"What do you mean?"

"Whoa, don't get all sparky; although, I do remember a mighty fine spark a few nights back, Ms. Sullivan."

Taylor grabbed his elbow and spun him away from the altar. “Your soul will be damned in the flames of hell if you talk of that here."

He shrugged. “Already halfway there. At least, it seems so the last few days,” he said cryptically. “New make-up and you smell good, too,” he said, dropping his head to hers and inhaling her perfume. “Sweet scented lilacs. Just like my granny used to grow."

Taylor's jaw dropped. “I didn't know you knew those sorts of things."

"Ah, but that's it, you, Taylor, don't know enough about me, yet."

Taylor busied herself with her clipboard and kept her gaze firmly fixed on the page, which wasn't much use as every number blurred, and the list of names read like a pile of mumbo jumbo. “Well, this is all very nice, but I'm sorry you can't stay; I've got a wedding to get organized."

"I can't leave yet,” Cade said succinctly.

Oh, boy. The revving butterflies in Taylor's belly began their frantic partying once more. “Why not? Are you guest?” She reread the names on her board. “Oh, God, have I left your name off? What a disaster. The whole week, the ribbons."

"Taylor. It's okay. I'm not a guest. You were going to twirl for me."

"Twirl?” she repeated, struck dumb for a second. “Cade, you didn't come here just to get me to twirl in a dress. This