Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings

Chapter Seven

Brice climbed out of his truck and into the morning. The hiss of the sprinkler system in the city park diagonally across the street provided enough background noise to drown out the faint hum of distant traffic. It was early enough yet that only an infrequent car motored down the nearby street. Birds took flight from the tree overhead when Rex hopped onto the sun-warmed blacktop. The parking lot was empty, except for them. He’d beaten Ava here. Again.

Ava. Spotting her in the restaurant last night had given him a chance to clear the air. The only problem was, nothing felt clearer. Their agreement to keep it to business, sure, that was crystal clear. But his feelings for her became more complicated every time he was around her.

Lord, You know I’m in over my head. Please, I need some help. If it’s not too much trouble, show me the way.

As if in answer, he felt a shift in the calm peace of the morning. It was as if the nearly nonexistent breeze had completely vanished, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis. As if for one nanosecond, the rotation of the earth ceased. Brice felt an odd prickling at the back of his neck. When he turned around, there she was.

Or, more accurately, there she was in her yellow SUV driving straight toward him. The morning light cut at an angle through her windshield, illumining her clearly. Those sunglasses were perched on her nose again, and the bill of the baseball cap—pink, today—framed her heart-shaped face. She whipped into the parking space closest to the front door. Right beside his truck.

Her nearness was like taking an unexpected punch to the chest. Brice rocked back on his heels from the impact. He watched her through the windshield as she chattered on her cell while cutting the engine, pulling the e-brake and gathering up her things.

Knowing there would be more bakery boxes and careens of coffee and spiced tea, he moved to help. Rex bounded ahead, whining in anticipation of being with Ava.

“I know just how you feel, buddy.” He scrubbed his dog’s head with his knuckles.

Her driver’s side door was open, but she’d turned away, still busy gathering her things and absorbed in her phone conversation. Her dulcet, cheerful tone was as soft as the morning breeze. “Yes, Madeline, I’d be happy to bring by my catalogue. If your client wants something unique, then I’m the right baker. I specialize in one-of-a-kind designs.”

She backed out of the vehicle, dragging her enormous purse with her. The bulk of it clattered over the console and snagged on the emergency brake, which stopped her progress. No one was cuter. Captivated, he could not look away as she freed her bag from the snag. Once it was free, she hooked the big bag over her shoulder, absently, and went to slam the door. With the keys inside.

Suddenly it wasn’t a mystery how she kept locking herself out. He caught the edge of the door.

“Goodbye, Madeline and—” She stopped, apparently startled to find him latched onto her door. For the tiniest part of a millisecond she gazed up at him unguarded, forgetting to finish her conversation. “Uh… thanks again, Madeline, for this opportunity. I won’t let you down. Bye!”

She snapped her phone shut. “Thank you, too. You keep showing up right when I need rescuing.”

“It’s a knack of mine.” He waited for her to step out of the way before he settled behind the steering wheel and snagged the keys from the ignition. He started fiddling with the remote.

“And now what are you doing?”

“Reprogramming this for you. So it won’t auto lock. There.”

He was starting to look more and more like a fictitious knight in shining armor…well, more like a knight with a tool belt. It was nice to be rescued by such a good guy.

“Who was on the phone?” he asked over a few electronic beeps that came from inside the SUV.

“That was Madeline from Madeline’s Catering. She provided the food for your sister’s wedding reception. She asked me to make the desserts for a baby shower she’s catering. The funniest thing, though. She said you had highly recommended me.”

“I might have.” He angled out from behind the wheel and closed the door.

“Thank you. I met with Maxime Frost yesterday, and her daughter Carly chose one of my designs. Also because of your recommendation.”

“I’m just glad it worked out. If you want to head in, I’ll bring in the boxes. Take a look at the plans. They’re on the worktable.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” Ava tried so hard not to like Brice more, but found it impossible. Fighting her feelings, she accepted Rex’s good morning jump up, hugged him and promised him his own scone. Thrilled, his doggy tongue hanging, he bounded ahead of her on the way to the front door as if to say, hurry, faster!

“It’s too bad I really don’t like your dog,” she said, not quite comfortable saying the truth, of how very much she adored Rex.

“Yeah, I don’t like him either,” Brice said with a wink.

She ducked her head to dig for her office keys in the mess of her bag. Truth was, she didn’t want to keep looking at Brice. And see more and more good things to like about him. But her attempts were futile. There was Brice’s reflection in the glass as she went to unlock the door.

My, he was such a fine man. Her heart gave a little tumble—just the tiniest fall.

It’s just business. That’s all. That’s what it had to be.

So, why didn’t that rationale feel convincing? Best not to think about that too much. She pushed open the door. Rex sprang in, expertly dodging the sawhorses and piles of fresh wallboard, and she lingered, turning to watch Brice. It was hard not to notice the powerful agile way he hefted the boxes, shut the back of the SUV and locked up.

He was a great guy—wait, rephrase that. He was a really awesome man. Why did that make her panic?

“It’s starting to take shape.” His voice and his boots echoed in the big empty shop. “You can see we’ve got the rewiring done. The inspector’s supposed to be here in an hour. Once we get that okayed, the wallboard goes up. Do you like the cathedral ceilings? We were able to punch up a few feet higher than we’d first thought.”

See? Just business. Ava managed to push aside the lump of feelings all wadded up in her chest. Did her best not to notice how she felt happy when he was near.

“I love the ceilings. It’s better than I hoped for.” She walked around, giving Brice time to head into the kitchen with the morning’s treats, and to put space between them. “The guys have done a great job.”

She could see her dreams of the new shop taking shape in the shell of the old. She’d have warm honeyed woods, cheerful yellow walls and the scent of happiness in the air. It was finally happening. For real. She thought of Madeline’s call—was it a sign her business would boom? Maybe.

She had a business to build, not more mistakes to make. She caught sight of Brice unboxing the scones. A tiny question whispered inside her heart: What if he wasn’t a mistake?

“Ava, you’ve topped yourself.” He had one of the sunshine face scones in hand.

“I made a double batch, so the construction dudes can take some home to their families.”

“Once you get this shop open, I hope you know that you’re going to be in demand.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” she said, trying to stay focused on the business. The business. Not on Brice’s kind words.

He took a bite. “Sheer heaven. You’ll be open soon. Do you have hired help all lined up?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve got enough extended family to hire without even putting an ad in the paper. I’m just hoping this doesn’t wind up being another failure.”

“It won’t be.” Brice could see the burden of it weighing her down. “You have an excellent quality of product, and the decorating is top-notch. It’s all I heard at Chloe’s reception. I think you should believe in yourself a little more. It will turn out fine.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice, mister.”

“That’s the idea. I want to be nice to you. This is business, remember? We have this business relationship, but after that, I’m hoping you’ll want more.”

“Oh, that’s scarier than starting my own business.” She swiped a lock of golden hair out of her eyes, looking adorable. “It’s that fault-blind thing. You look perfect to me, but it’s just because I can’t see the flaws. It’s like walking blind into a tornado.”

“Good. No man wants you to see his flaws.”

“Some people are better at hiding them than others.” She followed him into the kitchen where sunlight highlighted the drawings he’d set out beside the bakery box. “Take me, my flaws are totally noticeable.”

“I haven’t noticed any flaws.”

“Sure you haven’t. What about those accusations?”

“Those were perfectly understandable considering you were confusing me with a Darrin Fullerton.”

Really, he was just trying to get her to like him, and it wasn’t going to work. Absolutely not. The same way she wasn’t going to notice how wonderfully tall he was. Solid. Substantial. How he looked like a man who could shoulder any burden. Solve any problem.

Okay, she was starting to notice, but only just a little. Really.

Rex, the perfect gentleman, was sitting there with his big innocent eyes showing just how good and deserving he was of a scone. Ava turned her attention to the dog because there was no reason why she shouldn’t fall in love with Rex. She grabbed one of the cheerful iced treats. “Here you go, handsome.”

Rex delicately took the scone from her fingertips, gave her a totally adoring look and sucked the sweet down in one gulp.

“He seems to like your baking,” Brice said with a grin. “Can you stay for a while? I can pour you a cup of coffee if you want to look over the—”

“Oh.” She was already looking at the drawings, and it was her turn to be utterly adoring. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Could she talk? No. The penciled images had stolen every word from her brain. Her mind was a total blank except for a single thought.

Perfect.

He’d taken the photos she’d shown him yesterday and transformed them into her vision. Into exactly what she’d imagined. There it was. Curlicue scrollwork and rosebud-patterned moldings and carvings framing the wood and glass bakery case. “There’s no way I can afford this.”

“Custom woodwork is built into the estimate you signed. This would be for the same price. We’ve agreed to it.”

“How can that be? I love this, don’t get me wrong, but this can’t be what was on the estimate. I know it’s not.”

“Rafe doesn’t do woodwork, so pricing it is a mystery to him. Trust me. I can do this for the same price as he quoted you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. There’s no hidden costs and no hidden agendas. With me, what you see is what you get.”

“Businesswise, right?”

“Always.”

She loved the sincerity in his words. The honesty he projected was totally irresistible. Now she had to like him. But just a pinch. A smidgen. But not a drop more.

“I love this.” She traced the drawn image of the bakery case with her fingertips. “This is my dream.”

“That was the idea.” He leaned closer to study the drawing, too, and to set a coffee cup in front of her. The steely curve of his upper arm brushed against her shoulder and stayed.

The trouble was, she noticed. She liked being close to him. She felt safe and secure and peaceful, as if everything was right in the world.

“If I have your approval, then I’ll get started in the wood shop today. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Send two dozen of these scones to my office along with the bill.” He moved away to take another treat from the box and broke it in half. Tossed one piece to the dog, who caught it like a pro ballplayer, and kept the other for himself. “Do you deliver?”

“For you, I could make an exception.”

“Excellent. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Miss McKaslin.”

“Anytime, Mr. Donovan.” It was a good thing she had her priorities straight in life. Because otherwise, she could completely fall for him. Talk about doom!

She pushed away from the table, away from his presence and away from the wish of what could be. She grabbed her cup of coffee. “Later, Donovan.”

“Later, McKaslin.”

She gave Rex a pat and sauntered out of her shop like a businesswoman totally in charge of her life and her heart.

It was a complete facade.

* * *

Rex’s high yelping rose above the grind of the radial saw. Brice slipped down his protective glasses and glanced over his shoulder toward the open workshop door.

Maura, his secretary, had walked the twenty or so yards from the front office and stood staring at him, her arms crossed over her chest, looking like a middle-aged spinster despite the fact that they’d gone through public school together. “The scones you ordered are here. Talk about amazing. We’re all taking a coffee break. You want to come join us?”

“Ava was here?” He hadn’t expected her to be by so fast. He’d figured she would have to make another batch, but she must have made enough originally. He hadn’t planned on that, he’d been busy working on her molding and now he’d missed her.

Maura shrugged. “I didn’t know you wanted to see her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t run off next time.”

She gave him that smile that women have, the knowing one that means you aren’t fooling them one bit, and he was floored. Just how many people had guessed about his feelings for Ava?

“I’ve heard her cakes are heavenly.” Maura paused in the doorway, giving that smile again. “When you order next time, remember—we all love chocolate. Don’t forget, now.”

“It’s a business relationship.” It was the truth. For now. “What makes you think it isn’t?”

Maura arched one brow and stared pointedly at the pile of wood. “You always take the summer months off, but it’s now June and look, you’re still here. You aren’t fooling me. And for your 4-1-1, she’s really nice. She goes to my church and we’re in the same Bible study. I could put in a good word for you.”

“I can handle it, thanks.”

“It’s just that I know what happened with Whitney. It wasn’t your fault.” Maura kindly didn’t say more on that topic. “I hope you know what you’re doing. You haven’t dated in a long time.”

“Thanks, Maura, but I have a plan.”

“Well, if you need a woman’s opinion, you can always run it by me.” She hesitated again. “Thanks for the scones. They are wonderful.” And finally she was gone, shutting the door tight behind her.

A plan? That wasn’t what he’d thought to call it before now. He lifted the length of wood from the bench, a smooth piece of oak that would gleam like honey when he was through with it. He had a plan, of sorts. He intended to work hard. To deliver on his promise to Ava. To show her that he could help her with this dream. Maybe—God willing—with all her dreams.

The problem was, he didn’t know if he could get her to go to dinner with him. It wasn’t looking promising at this moment in time.

Based on his experience with her so far, he feared that Ava McKaslin might be the Mt. Everest equivalent of dating—a nearly impossible feat to accomplish and not for the faint of heart. A smart man would choose a much smaller mountain that required less effort.

He, apparently, wasn’t a smart man, but he was a dedicated one and he recognized her value. He set his goggles in place, grabbed another length of oak from the lumber pile. He had long hours of detailing to do and he intended to bring this in on time. He’d work on this dream first.

Then he’d try to tackle the rest of them.

Chapter Eight

In the serenity of her oldest sister’s snazzy kitchen, Ava piped careful scrollwork across the final dozen cookies in the shape of a baby’s shoe. Madeline, the caterer, had subcontracted with her for six dozen specialty cookies for a baby shower and they were going perfectly. It was a good feeling, a relieved feeling. The first she’d had in two days. That’s how long she’d gone without seeing Brice.

You’d think that would be enough time to get her feelings under control, right? But no, she thought as she piped the final curlicue on the last cookie and stretched her aching back. She had feelings for him, and she liked him. But that didn’t mean she had to actually do anything about it, right?

She’d been avoiding seeing him. Oh, she’d continued to deliver baked goods for the construction dudes, but she arrived way early, well before Brice was supposed to show, and just left the box in the kitchen. Drive-by baking, as he’d called it.

She hit the off button on her digital music player and plucked the buds from her ears just in time. Katherine was tapping down the hall, coming her way. Since she was in big, deep favor-debt to her sister, Ava snatched a ceramic mug from the cabinet and poured a brisk cup of tea she’d had ready, steeping. The instant Katherine stepped foot in the kitchen, she had the cup on the breakfast bar and was heating a monster muffin in the microwave.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here.” Dressed in a modest summer dress and sensible flat sandals, Katherine slid onto a breakfast bar stool. The classy act that she was, she didn’t even comment on the shambles of her ordinarily supertidy kitchen. “These cookies are too beautiful to eat. Your customer will be delighted, I’m sure.”

Talk about a great sister. Ava rescued the muffin from the microwave and set it next to the tea. “Ta da! I promise I’ll have this place spic-and-span by the time you get home today.”