Two fan-favorite McKaslin Clan novels in one by beloved author Jillian Hart

Every Kind of Heaven

Ava McKaslin has a strict to-do list for her life: making sweets and taking care of her family. Love is too unreliable for this busy bakery owner. Until she hires Brice Donovan as her contractor. Brice has adored Ava from afar. Now that she needs his help, Brice wants to show her how joyful life can be when there is love.

Everyday Blessings

When Aubrey McKaslin visits reclusive photographer William Corey, she finds a man who’s given up on life. He claims he’s happy alone in his mountain retreat, but Aubrey doesn’t believe it for a minute. She sees a man who’s looking for companionship. Spending time together awakens deeper feelings in them both, but could William trust in their newfound love to see a future together?

Praise for Jillian Hart and her novels

“Jillian Hart’s Every Kind of Heaven is a warm, tender story in the McKaslin Clan miniseries.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Jillian Hart’s compassionate story will most certainly please readers.”

—RT Book Reviews on Everyday Blessings

“It’s a pleasure to read this achingly tender story.”

—RT Book Reviews on Her Wedding Wish

“A heartwarming story with likable characters.”

—RT Book Reviews on His Country Girl

“Jillian Hart conveys heart-tugging emotional struggles.”

—RT Book Reviews on Sweet Blessings

Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings

Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Contents

EVERY KIND OF HEAVEN

EVERYDAY BLESSINGS

Every Kind of Heaven

Jillian Hart

I consider that our present sufferings

are not worth comparing with the glory

that will be revealed in us.

—Romans 8:18

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Baker Ava McKaslin stopped humming as she stepped back from the worktable to inspect the wedding cake. Her footsteps echoed in the industrial kitchen, nearly empty except for a few basics—the sink, countertops and the few pieces of equipment she’d managed to buy off the previous tenant. They’d considered it too cumbersome and expensive to move the industrial oven and fridge, which was just her luck.

She might not have the bakery of her dreams yet, God willing, but it was a start. Besides, her cake was spectacular, if she did say so herself.

But what was with all the silence? She cut a look to the long stretch of metal counter behind her. The CD had come to an end. She’d probably forgotten to hit Repeat again. Okay, she forgot most things most of the time. Since her hands were all frosting coated, she hit the play button with her elbow. The first beats of percussion got her right back into the creative mode. Although some people found it hard to think with bass blasting from her portable boom box, she thought it helped her brain cells to fire…or synapse…or do whatever brain cells did.

As the Christian music pulsed with an upbeat rhythm, she went back to work on the top tier. The delicate scrollwork took patience, not to mention stamina. Her wrist and arms were killing her, since she’d been at this for six hours straight. Ah, the price of being a baker. She ignored the burn in her exhausted muscles. Pain, that didn’t matter. What mattered was not failing.

Before she’d bought this place, she’d been unofficially in business by using her oldest sister Katherine’s snazzy kitchen off and on for a few months. This was her very first wedding cake in her own bakery. How great was that? And it was actually going well—a total shocker. So far there were no disasters. No kitchen fires. No last-minute cancellation of the wedding. It was almost as if this business venture of hers was meant to be.

Maybe she hadn’t made a disastrous mistake by jumping into this entrepreneurial thing with both feet. And, best of all, the remodeling contractor would start work soon transforming this drab commercial space into a cheerful bakery shop in less than a couple of weeks. That was another reason why she was in such a great mood.

“Hello?” a man’s voice—a stranger’s voice—yelled over the booming music.

She screamed. The spatula slipped from her grip. What was a man doing in her kitchen? A man she’d never seen before. Her brain scrambled and her body refused to move. She could only gape at him in wide-eyed horror.

Oh, no. What if he was the backdoor burglar? The thief that had been breaking into the back doors of restaurants and assaulting and stealing? What if this dude was him?

It would be smart to call 9-1-1, but she had no idea where her cell was. There was no business phone installed yet. Even if she did have her cell or a working landline, it wouldn’t matter since she was paralyzed in place.

“Uh…uh…” That was the best speech she could manage? Get it together, Ava. You’re about to be robbed. “I’ve seen your face, so I can identify you in a lineup.”

The burglar stared at her. Wow, he was really handsome. And he looked startled. His strong, chiseled jaw was clenched tight in, perhaps, fury and his striking dark eyes glittered with viciousness…or maybe that was humor. The left corner of his mouth quirked up as if he were holding back a grin.

Great, she had to get an easily amused thief.

“I’ve got two bucks in my purse. That’s it, buddy. There’s not another cent on the premises. You’ve picked the wrong place to rob. So t-t-turn around r-right now and go away. Go on. Shoo.”

There, that ought to scare him off or confuse him. She really didn’t care which. Adrenaline—or maybe it was terror—started to spill like ice into her veins.

“Go ahead, call the cops.” He called her bluff, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He had the audacity to lean one big shoulder against the door frame, as if he had all the time in the world. He looked more like a movie star than a criminal. “Explain to the police how you left the front door unlocked.”

“No, I—” Wait, she did forget to lock stuff. And if he’d come in the front door, then he wasn’t the backdoor thief. Maybe. Unless he’d changed his M.O. and was that very likely? She didn’t think so. “I did leave the door unlocked, didn’t I?”

“Anyone could walk right in. Even the backdoor burglar. That’s who you thought I was, right?”

Okay, her mind was starting to unscramble. He didn’t look like any criminal she’d seen on TV. To make matters worse, he looked better than any man she’d seen on TV. He was handsome to a fault. His thick black hair fell with disregard for convention over his collar. He wore a short-sleeve polo shirt—black—with the little expensive insignia. His clothes—including his baggy khaki shorts and exclusive manly leather sandals—were top-of-the-line. Expensive.

It was likely that the backdoor thief didn’t dress like that or have such a perfect smile. She hit Pause on the boom box. “Okay, I feel dumb now. What were you doing surprising me like that? You just can’t go walking into any place you want.”

“I’m looking for you, Ava McKaslin.” His grin broadened enough to show off a double set of dimples.

Oops. This must be about business, and mistaking a potential customer for a burglar was so not professional. “You’ve come with a cake order, haven’t you, and after meeting me, you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, but it’s tempting.” The sets of dimples dug deeper as his grin widened. “I’ve been sent to check on the cake.”

“Chloe’s cake?” Oh, no. That can’t be good. Suddenly her great mood tumbled. “Has she called off her wedding?”

“Nope.”

“Changed her mind and eloped?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Has she gone with another baker and forgot to tell me? Has she postponed the wedding?”

“Let me guess. You’re more of a glass-is-half-empty kind of girl, aren’t you?”

“Hey, disasters happen. I’m a realist.”

Ava knelt to retrieve the spatula. She tossed it into the sink and washed her hands, turning her back to the guy. He wasn’t a burglar. She’d leaped to a wrong conclusion, but his being a thief might be better because he’d come with bad news. She knew, although he had yet to admit it, that he’d come to cancel the first cake she’d made in her bakery.

Total doom.

She grabbed a paper towel to dry her hands. “Tell Chloe I appreciate that she went with me, even if it didn’t work out. Is she all right?”

“I hope so, since she’s getting married tomorrow.”

“The wedding’s still on?”

“Sure it is.”

She was as cute as he remembered. Brice Donovan took a step closer, trying to act like he wasn’t stunned. He’d never met any woman who looked so funny and gorgeous all in the same moment. It was the eyes. Those big violet-blue eyes filled with one hundred percent vibrant emotion. They radiated such heart and spirit that he was sucked right in, like being caught in the vortex of a black hole.

It ought to be terrifying, but he didn’t mind it so much. He was glad to see her again. She didn’t seem to remember seeing him at Chloe’s wedding shower, considering she’d mistaken him for a burglar. But he sure remembered her. How could he not? She was unforgettable.

And absolutely adorable. Not that he could see much of her; she was standing behind the most unusual cake he’d ever seen. One large heart-shaped layer was stacked off-center on another, and another over that. Satin-textured, smooth ivory frosting adorned with amazing gold lace and ribbons of some kind of frosting, and colorful sugar flowers everywhere.

Unlike her cake, the designer wasn’t as perfectly arranged. She had globs of icing all over her. A streak on her cheek, a dried crown of it in her light blond hair, which was neatly tied back, and a blob just above the tip of her cute little nose.

When he’d agreed to check on the cake’s progress for his sister, he’d thought the address was familiar. He knew why the instant he’d pulled into the lot. His construction company had won the bid for renovation—starting next week. The moment he’d spotted the shop’s proprietor hard at work, he’d known why Chloe had sent him. She was meddlesome, but then a guy had to tolerate that from his baby sister. Not that he wasn’t grateful.

Over the past year, he’d noticed Ava McKaslin around town a couple of times. They didn’t belong to the same social circle or church, and didn’t live in the same parts of town, so he’d never had an opportunity to talk to her before. There was something about her that always made him smile. Just like he was doing now.

“I’ve been sent to make sure the cake is on schedule.” He stalked forward, wanting to get closer to that smile of hers. “It looks on schedule to me.”

“I’ll need thirty minutes tops, and then it’s done. Chloe doesn’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll deliver it bright and early at the country club, just as I promised, no sweat.”

“She’ll be thrilled.” He splayed both hands on the table and leaned toward her, drawn by those eyes, by everything.

Up close, there was nothing artificial about her. She was radiant. She had a fresh-faced complexion and dazzling beauty, sure, but she was unique. She was like the light refracting off a flawless diamond. Hers was a brilliance that was impossible to touch or to capture.

He’d really like to get to know her. “You said you’ve got thirty minutes until you’re done?”

“I promise. You and Chloe have nothing to worry about. Your wedding cake will be perfect.” Ava crossed her heart like a girl scout, as cute as a button.

Captivated, Brice felt blinded in a way he’d never been before. He definitely would like to see what this violet-eyed, flawless Ava was really like. He took in the little gold cross at her throat and the sweet way she looked. What was such a good, amazing woman doing single?

She scooped a short spatula into a stainless steel bowl, fluffy with snow-white frosting. “Did you want to come back when I’m done?”

“I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind.”

“Stay? You don’t want to do that. You’d be bored.”

“I doubt that. I could watch you work. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful, the work you do.” He took a breath. Gathered his courage. “If you don’t mind, when you’re done, we could talk, just you and me.”

Ava stared over the top frills of the cake. She blinked hard, as if she were trying to bring him into focus. Or make sense of what he was saying. “Talk?”

“Sure. We’ve met before, don’t you remember? Maybe we can go down the street for a cup of coffee. Get to know each other better.”

“What?” The spatula dropped from her supple artist’s fingers and clattered on the metal tabletop. “You want to get to know me better?”

Uh-oh. She didn’t look happy about that. He’d never had that reaction from a woman before. Okay, maybe he’d jumped the gun. “Do you have a boyfriend? I should have asked first. I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring and I assumed—”

She cut him off, circling around the table like a five-star army general. “You assumed? What’s wrong with you?”

He couldn’t believe how mad she looked. “Hey, what did I do? I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk? Oh, is that what men like you call it? You need to get some morals.”

Well, at least she was a lady with serious principles. He liked that. He respected Ava’s inner fiber. It was a little passionate, but he liked that, too. He held up both hands, a show of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know you were attached. Why wouldn’t you be? Look at you. Of course you have a boyfriend. He probably worships at your feet.”

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend, but what about you and Chloe? You’re getting married! You should leave. Go.”

Normally, he might take offense at her dismissal, but he didn’t seem to mind.

No boyfriend, huh? Okay, call him interested. No, call him dazzled, that’s what he was. She fascinated him, all pure inner fire and feeling. But this wasn’t going well. Usually he got a better response than this.

“What am I going to have to tell your bride?” Her sweetheart-shaped face turned pink with fury. “The poor woman thinks she’s getting married to Mr. Right. Little does she know you’re Mr. Yuck, wanting to get to know me the evening before your wedding. I don’t think you want to chat either!”

So, that was it. Whew. For a minute there, he was afraid she really didn’t like him. “You misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood? Oh, I don’t think so.”

Men, Ava fumed. What was wrong with the species? This was why she wasn’t married. Too many of the gender were just like this guy, and nothing made her madder. Spitting mad. “I’m a good Christian girl. Get a clue, buddy. Are you misunderstanding me now?”

“Uh, no. I noticed the gold cross. You look like a very nice Christian girl to me.”

He was being agreeable now, but it didn’t matter. “Poor Chloe. Now what do I do? Do I tell her? Or do I make you do it? A man like you doesn’t deserve a nice wife like her. What kind of man would do that to the woman he was about to marry?”

He chuckled. Actually chuckled, the sound rich as cream. His dimples deepened. Tiny, attractive laugh lines crinkled around his kind, warm brown eyes.

That was the problem. He didn’t look like a cheater. He looked like a nice guy. What did a girl do in a world where icky men could look as good as the nice ones?

She’d had this problem before. This was why she had a newly instated policy of staying away from every last one of them, unless they needed to buy a cake from her, of course. She intended to stick to her current no-man policy one hundred percent. “This is the last time I’m telling you to leave.”

“Okay, stand down, soldier.” He held up both hands as if he were surrendering. “I’ll go. But please accept my apology. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Obviously you weren’t thinking at all. Or you thought that I looked easy, and let me tell you, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Ava McKaslin, you look like class to me. I can’t help noticing that you aren’t happy with my interest.”

“You got that right. Hey! You’re not heading toward the door.”

“We’re not done discussing the cake.” He had the audacity to grin again.

That grin became more charming each time he used it, Ava thought, making him look like the absolute perfect guy.

She’d been fooled by dimples and charm too many times before. “The cake will be ready and delivered at the country club’s service entrance by nine tomorrow morning, as agreed. There. Discussion done.”

“Chloe will be relieved. You aren’t going to mention this little misunderstanding to her, right?”

Didn’t that take the prize? “I don’t know. I may have to consult my sisters and my minister on this one. She should know the kind of man she’s marrying.”

“I’m not the groom.”

“Oh, sure you’re not.” Ava rolled her eyes. Some men would resort to anything. Men like him had made her give up dating. Perhaps forever. Good thing she’d vowed to turn all her energy to making a success of her business, because it would be impossible to make marriage work considering the men running around these days.

She reloaded her spatula with frosting. “You’re not gone yet.”

He sighed, resigned as he backed through the kitchen doorway. “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding, huh?”

“Not if I can help it.” Really, what gave this guy the idea that she was interested? “I’d better follow you to the door to make sure you really leave. Then I’m going to lock it, so no more riffraff can get in.”

“At least I’m not the backdoor burglar, or you would have really been in trouble. That spatula loaded with frosting wouldn’t be much of a weapon against a revolver.” He paused in the front door, framed by the brilliant June sunshine. His grin went cosmic. “By the way, you have frosting on your nose. It’s cute. Real cute.”

“You’re not so attractive, Mr. Yuck.”

“Ava, listen. I’m not the groom. When you deliver the cake, stick around for the wedding. You’ll see I’m the best man. So, how about it?”

She grabbed his arm and gave him a shove. It was impossible not to notice he felt like solid steel. Once he’d rocked backward a step, she was able to slam the door. Not that he was harmful, she thought as she threw the dead bolt, but she’d had enough of not-so-stellar men.

So why did she gravitate to the front windows that gave her a perfect view of the parking lot?

Because she wanted to make sure he left, the horrible man, trying to pick up a woman on the night before his wedding. Despicable.

It was hard to believe a human being was capable of behaving so badly, but she’d been propositioned like that before. Three wedding cakes ago. Darrin Fullerton had thought that when she delivered the two-tier caramel coconut cake that she was ready to serve up something else, too. It still shocked her. Too many men needed to spend more time reading their Bibles. Filling their minds with uplifting and spiritual subjects. Learning to recite the Psalms. List the seven deadly sins. That kind of thing.

The groom climbed into a bright red luxury sports car—not surprising—and zipped away. As he passed by the shop’s glassed front, his driver’s side window whipped down and he lifted his designer aviator sunglasses to give her a wink.

Horrible. Anger turned her vision to pure crimson. Seconds passed until she could see normally again. The parking lot was empty, the red sports car long gone.

Her cell phone chimed. The cheerful jingle came from very near. She looked down and found it in her apron pocket. The display said it was her twin sister, Aubrey. “Howdy.”

“I’m just pulling up into the lot. I can see your frowny face from here.”

“I have more than a frowny face on. It’s my down-on-men face.”

“Wow. What happened?”

“Oh, another groom trying to get one last party in before he commits.” Ava spotted her bright yellow SUV cautiously creeping across the empty lot. Her sister had borrowed it and was coming closer. “What is it with men and commitment? I don’t get why it’s so terrifying. It’s not any more frightening than a lot of things. Like premature baldness.”

“Crow’s feet.”

“New car payments. Now that’s scary. Which is why I’m glad I’ve given up on dating. Who cares if I ever get married?”

“You do.”

“Too true.” Ava sighed. “I’ve got a few more minutes to finish up, and then I’m good to go.”

Aubrey brought the vehicle to a slow stop at the curb outside the window. She leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. “You brought a change of clothes, right? Or are you going to the movies like that?”

“I knew I forgot something.” Ava snapped the phone shut. Who needed a man when she had enough disaster in her life?

Too bad the kind of man she needed—perfect in every way, no selfishness, no flaws or questionable morals—didn’t exist.

So what was a nice girl to do? Settle for Mr. So-So or Marginally Moral? As if!

Ava unlocked the door for Aubrey and went back to work. There was the wedding cake in all its loveliness, fresh and beautiful like the new promise a wedding should be. But would she ever know what that new promising love felt like? No.

Disappointed, she grabbed a clean spatula from the drawer by the sink and went back to work, making sugar roses. Trying not to dwell on the sadness that was buried so deep inside she could almost pretend it didn’t exist. She didn’t want to live her life without knowing true love.

But with the men she kept running into, she had no other choice.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Brice pulled into the country club’s parking lot and killed the engine. It was 8:53 a.m. Hadn’t Ava promised the cake would be delivered by nine?

He climbed out into the hot sunshine, made hotter by the monkey suit he had to wear. He hooked a finger beneath his tie and tugged until he had a little more breathing room. After remoting the door locks, he hadn’t gone five steps before his cell rang. He thumbed it from his pocket. Seeing his sister’s number on the call screen made his step lighter. “Having cold feet yet?”

“No way. I can’t wait to get married. I don’t have a single doubt. Where are you?”

“Where do you think?”

“Ha! You’re up to something. You’re not answering me.” She sounded happy, her voice light and easy.

Brice was glad for his little sister. He wouldn’t mind having that kind of happiness in his life. He checked his Rolex. Another minute had ticked by. He shouldered through the club’s main door. “Where I am is none of your business. Is Mom giving you problems?”

“When isn’t she giving me problems? She means well. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself so I don’t flip out. She’s made two of my bridesmaids cry. She’s decided the wedding planner isn’t capable and is trying to take over.”

“Do you need me to come run interference?”

“Do you know what I need you to do?” Chloe sounded as if she was very glad he’d asked. “I’d love it if you could swing by the club and check on the cake.”

I know what you’re up to little sister, he thought. But he didn’t mind. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Ava since he’d left her shop yesterday.

It ate at him that she thought he was the groom. She was right—from her mistaken perspective he did look like a Mr. Yuck. Now, that was a misperception he had to change, even if he had to show her two forms of ID to do it.

Because he didn’t want to encourage his sister, he tried to sound indifferent. Not at all interested. “Tell me what you know about this baker you went with.”

“Ha! You like her. I know you do.”

“I don’t know her.” Yet. But he intended to change that.

As he began looking around the room, he spotted her through the closed French doors into the ballroom and he froze in place. Ava. Seeing her was like the first light of dawn rising, and that was something he’d never felt before. Ever.

“I met Ava when we were volunteering at the community church’s shelter kitchen.” Chloe sounded very far away, although the cell connection was crystal clear. “She’s sweet and kind and hysterical. We had a great time, until they asked her to leave.”

What had she said? Brice’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t seem to focus. All he could think of was Ava. Her thick, shiny hair was tied up into a haphazard ponytail, bouncing in time with her movements. She was busily going over the cake, checking each colorful flower and sparkling golden accent.

She hadn’t noticed him yet and seemed lost in her own world. She had a set of earbuds in, probably listening to a pocket-sized digital music player. She wore jeans and a yellow T-shirt that said on the back “Every Kind of Heaven” in white script.

Was the saying true? It had to be. She did look like everything sweet and good in the world.

“Brice? Are you listening to me?”

He felt dazed, as if he’d been run over by a bus. He couldn’t orient himself in place and time. Any minute Ava would look up, and when she saw him, she’d leap to the same conclusion as before—that he was Mr. Yuck. If he didn’t act quickly, would she start lobbing frosting at him?

He’d never quite had that effect on a woman before.

“Look, Chloe. I gotta go. Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure. You’ll make sure Ava doesn’t need any help, right? She’s just starting her business and she hasn’t hired anyone yet. She’ll need some assistance with all the favors we ordered. Remember, if you change your mind and decide to bring a date to my wedding, feel free.”

“Sure. Right,” he said vaguely.

Ava. He was having the toughest time concentrating on anything else. His thoughts kept drifting to the woman on the other side of the door.

When he opened it, he heard a lightly muttered, “Oops!”

Ava’s voice made his senses spin.

Think, Brice. He clicked off his phone and stepped into the ballroom.

Morning light spilled through the long row of closed French doors and onto her. She looked tinier than he remembered. Maybe it was that she had such a big personality that she gave the impression of stature. She was surprisingly petite with slender lines and almost skinny arms and legs. There was no one else helping. How she’d delivered that big cake by herself was a mystery. It had to be heavy.

He knew the moment she sensed his presence. The line of her slender shoulders stiffened. Every muscle went completely rigid. She pulled the earbuds out of her ears, turning toward him in one swift movement.

“You.” If looks could kill, he’d at least be bleeding. “What are you doing here? You’re just like Darrin Fullerton. He showed up when I was delivering the cake to beg me not to say anything to his bride. He’d been drunk, he’d said, and didn’t know what he was doing when he propositioned me. As if that’s any excuse!”

Quick, Brice, look innocent. He held up both hands in surrender. “Wait. I’m nothing like that Fullerton guy. I’m a completely innocent best man. Really.”

“Innocent? I don’t think so.”

Ava gave him her best squinty-eyed look. He was bigger than she remembered, a good six feet tall. When she’d shoved him out the door of her bakery, it had been like trying to move a bulldozer.

She went up on tiptoe so she could glare at him directly, not exactly eye to eye, but it was the best she could manage, being so short. “Are you ashamed of yourself? At all?”

He didn’t look unashamed. “Chloe’s going to love that cake. You did an amazing job.”

“Now if only I can control the urge to lob the top tier at you.”

“Do you think you can restrain that urge for a few seconds? I’ve got something to show you.” He reached into his back pocket.

Men were much more trouble than they were worth, she concluded. But why did he have to have such an amazing grin? That’s probably what Chloe saw in him; it obviously blinded her to all his multitude of faults. Poor Chloe. “You should be getting ready for your wedding, but what are you doing? Trying to get me not to tell—”

He flashed a card at her. “This ought to clear up the confusion.”

“I’m not the one who’s confused. You owe me an apology and your bride an enormous apology and—”

He waved the card in front of her. “Look closer.”

She squinted to bring the card into focus. Not a card. It was a driver’s license. Some of her fury sagged as she realized the picture, which was, of course, perfect, matched the man standing before her. The name to the left of the photo was Brice Donovan.

What? Her mind screeched to a sudden halt. She sank back onto her heels, staring, feeling her jaw drop. Brice Donovan. Chloe Donovan’s brother. Not the groom.

“I’m the best man,” he said, wagging the card. “Do you finally believe me?”

His eyes darkened with amusement, but they weren’t unkind. No, not at all. A strong warmth radiated from him as he leaned close, and then closer.

That thought spun around in her brain for a moment, like a car’s engine stuck in Neutral. Then it hit her. She’d insulted, yelled at and accused a perfectly innocent man.

It was hard to know just what to say. Talk about being embarrassed. Had she really said all those things to him? She felt faint. Wasn’t he on the city’s most eligible bachelor’s list? It was just in last weekend’s paper. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized him.

Why did these things always happen to her? She clipped her case closed. He was probably waiting for an apology. An apology for the accusations. The fact that she’d been beyond rude to him, one of the wealthiest men from one of the most prominent families in Montana.

Lovely. Her face heated from the humiliation starting to seep into her soul. “Oops. My bad.”

“You think?” He crooked one brow, amusement softening the impressive impact of all iron-solid six feet of him.

The effect was scrambling her brain cells, and that wasn’t helping her to think.

“Chloe’s going to really love what you’ve done with this cake.” He jammed his hands into his pockets, looking like a cover model come to life. “It’s going to make her so happy. Thank you.”

Now what did she say? She’d been awful to him and he was complimenting the cake she’d worked so hard on. It made her feel even worse. “I’m trying to figure out how to apologize, but sorry seems like too small a word.”

“Don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks,” she said shyly.

Brice Donovan’s smile made her even more muddled. Before he’d walked into the ballroom she’d been so happy, thinking how pleased Chloe was going to be. But now? Her heart twisted with agony. Her face was so hot and red from embarrassment, she could feel her skin glow. What she could see of her nose was as bright as a strawberry.

This was no way for a professional baker to behave. Feeling two inches tall, she looked up to Brice’s kind eyes. He wasn’t laughing at her. No. That was one saving grace, right?

“I am sorry. Really. Tell Chloe best wishes. This cake is my gift to her.”

“But she hired you to bake it.”

“So she thinks. I’ve got to go, I have another project to work on, but this, the groom’s cake and the favors, it’s all from me to her. She was a good friend to me when I really needed one.” Her chest felt so tight, she felt ready to burst. Embarrassment had turned into a horrible, sharp pain right behind her sternum.

Doom. She’d just made a mess of this. Would there ever be one time—just once—when she didn’t make a mess of something? There was no way to fix this, and the cake was finished. There was nothing else to do but grab her case and her baseball cap.

Somehow she managed to speak without strangling on her embarrassment. “Goodbye, Mr. Donovan. And I am s-sorry again.”

“Wait, don’t go yet, I—”

“I have to.” She was already walking away. She had work waiting and she couldn’t face him a second longer. She’d humiliated herself enough for one day and it was only 9:15 a.m. She hadn’t even had breakfast yet. Way to go, Ava.

She wasn’t aware of crossing the room, only that she was suddenly at the kitchen. But she was aware of him. Of his presence behind her in the spill of light through the expansive windows. She didn’t have to look at him as she pushed through the kitchen door to know that he was watching her. She could feel the tangible weight of his touch between her shoulder blades. What was he thinking?

Lord, I don’t want to know. She kept going. She hit the back service doors and didn’t slow until she felt the soothing morning sun on her face.

She skidded to a stop in the gravel and breathed in the fresh morning air. The scents of warm earth and freshly mowed grass calmed her a little. She breathed hard, getting out all the negative feelings. There were a lot of them. And trying not to hear her mother’s voice saying, You wreck everything you touch. Can’t you stop making a mess for two seconds?

She’d been seven, and she could still hear the shrill impatience. She still felt like that little girl who just didn’t know how things went wrong no matter how hard she tried.

You’re just a big dope, Ava, she told herself. What kind of grown adult had the problems she had? Wasn’t she going to turn over a new leaf? Start out right this time? Stop making so many dumb mistakes?

Well, no more. She wasn’t going to think about the way she’d embarrassed herself back there. She’d been hoping that by doing a good job with Chloe’s cake, she’d get some word-of-mouth interest and her business would naturally pick up.

But after this, what were the chances that anyone was going to remember what the cake looked like?

None. All Brice Donovan was going to do was to talk about the dingbat cake lady who mistook him—the city of Bozeman’s golden boy—for a philandering groom.

Her SUV blurred into one bright yellow blob. She blinked hard until her eyes cleared and reached into her pocket for her keys.

The only thing she could do was go on from here. Simply write off this morning as a lesson learned. What else could she do? She reached into her other pocket, but it was empty. No, it couldn’t be. Her heart jackhammered. Where were her keys?

She did another search of her pockets. Jeans front pockets. No key. Back pockets. No key. Those were the only pockets she had. Panic began to stutter in her chest. Where were her keys?

There. Sitting right in plain view on the rear passenger seat. Inside the locked vehicle. Right next to her cell phone and her sunglasses.

Super-duper. What did she do now?

“Looks like you need help,” said a rumbling baritone from behind her. A baritone she recognized. Brice Donovan.

Could the morning get any worse? How was she going to save her dignity now—or what was left of it? “H-help? Oh, no, I’m fine.”

“Fine, huh? Aren’t those your car keys inside the car?”

“I believe so.”

“I don’t know too many people who can actually lock their keys in the car with a remote. Don’t you need the remote to lock the door?”

“Yes.” She plopped her baseball cap on her head and pulled the bill low, trying to hide what she could of her face. Her nose was bright red again.

Brice studied her for a moment before realization dawned. Oh, he knew why she was acting this way, shuffling away from him, head down, avoiding his gaze. She was embarrassed. Well, she didn’t need to be. “Hey, it’s no big deal. This kind of thing happens, right?”

The tension eased from her tight jaw and rigid shoulders. She shrugged helplessly. “I’ve only had this car for a few months and I haven’t figured out all the settings yet. It’s too technologically advanced for me.”

“I doubt that.” Tender feelings came to life and he couldn’t seem to stop them. Maybe her keys getting locked inside the car was providential. Just like the fact that he was here to help at just the right moment. “I have a knack for this kind of thing.”

“Thanks, but please don’t bother.”

She still wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she stared hard at the toes of her sunshine-yellow sneakers. Yellow, just like her SUV. There was nothing mundane about Ava McKaslin.

He liked that. Very much.

She surprised him by sidestepping away, heading back to the service doors.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To find a phone.”

“To call…?”

“My sister to come with the extra set of keys.”

Wow. She really didn’t want his help. Getting a woman to like him used to be easier than this, although he had been out of the dating circuit for a long time. After all, he’d dated Whitney two years before he’d proposed to her, which had turned out to be a much longer engagement period than either of them had expected. That put him nearly four, no, almost five years out of practice.

But still, he just didn’t remember it being so difficult. “Your sister doesn’t need to go to the trouble of driving out here. I’ll break in for you.”

She paused midstride.

He could sense her indecision, so he tried again. “Let me help. It’ll take a minute and then you can be on your way.”

“But I was so rude to you.”

“So? If you’re worried about retaliation, forget it. I’m a turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy. And I won’t leave a scratch on your new car. Promise.”

“And just why does a man like you know how to break into a car without leaving any evidence?”

“Chloe used to lock herself out of her car, too. I need a coat hanger. I’ll be right back.” He shouldered past her, pausing at the base of the concrete steps.

Why was her every sense attuned to this man? She felt Brice’s presence like the bright radiant sun on her back, almost as if she was interested in him, but, of course, she couldn’t be. She was done with thinking about any guy, and done with dreams of falling in love.

She was done with dreams like Brice Donovan.

Chapter Three

“Mission accomplished. No trouble at all.”

His voice moved through Ava like a warm breeze. She turned toward him as her car’s alarm went off. While the vehicle honked and the headlights flashed, he calmly opened the back door, grabbed the key ring with the remote and pressed the button. The horn silenced, the headlights died.

For him, it had been simple. But for her? She’d had to stand here and watch him, knowing he was helping her out of sympathy. Because he’d felt pity for his little sister’s friend.

She would rather fall through a big black hole in the ground than have to look Brice Donovan in the eye one more time. Sure, he was being gallant and incredibly nice, but it wasn’t as if she could erase the things she’d said to him. She heard all the adjectives she’d called him roll around in her head. Mr. Yuck. Riffraff. She’d told him to get some morals. How could she have not recognized him? How could she have made such a mistake?

“All done. And without any damage, thanks to the caterer.” He finished bending a wire hanger back into place, but his gaze seared her from six feet away. “Lucky for us she had this in her van.”

“Yep, lucky for us.” But she didn’t feel fortunate. Her nose was still strawberry red, but now it felt hot, too, as if it were glowing under its own energy source.

He opened her driver’s side door, looking every inch the handsome millionaire in the designer tux he wore, which fit him like a vision. Of course. He appeared every inch the proverbial prince. And suddenly she knew how Cinderella felt in her ragged dress, wishing she could put on a fancy dress and change her circumstances.

“Here are your keys.” They rested on his wide, capable palm.

She couldn’t help but notice how strong his hand was. Calluses roughened his skin, as if he worked hard for a living. But that couldn’t be. Wasn’t he a trust fund kind of guy?

“Thanks, again.”

It took all her willpower to meet his gaze. His eyes were so kind and tender. Clearly, he wasn’t holding the mistaken identity thing against her. What a relief.

“Goodbye, Brice.” She scooped the keys from his hand as quickly as she could, but her fingertips brushed his hand.

It was like touching a piece of heaven. A corner of serenity. The shame within her faded until there was only a hush in her soul. She didn’t know why this happened, but it couldn’t be a good sign. She hopped into her car, grabbed her belt as Brice closed her door. Their gazes met, held through the tempered glass, and her world stilled. Her heart forgot to beat.

Probably from the aftereffects of a lethal dose of embarrassment and nothing else—surely not interest, she told herself as she started the engine. But she knew, down deep, that wasn’t the truth. The truth wasn’t something she could examine too closely.

She drove away, into the sun, purposefully keeping her gaze on the road ahead. She resisted the urge to peek at her rearview mirror and see if he was standing there, watching her go.

* * *

Chloe had cried in happiness at her first glimpse of the wedding cake. The cake had been cut, pictures taken, and everyone in the ballroom had been served, and still he could hear the conversation buzzing about the unbelievable cake. It had looked like a porcelain creation of art and beauty, impossible that it was edible. But every piece, from the intricate lace ruffles to the golden beads to the delicate curls of rose petals, had tasted as sweet as heaven.

Each of the two hundred carefully stacked serving boxes, printed to match the lacework of the cake, held an individual cake for the guests to take home. A heart-shaped version with sugary miniature rosebuds and golden ribbons. He thought of the woman who had done so much work as a gift to his sister. Chloe didn’t know it yet since he hadn’t found the moment to tell her. She looked as happy as a princess in her frosty-white gown at her husband’s side.

Brice thanked God for his sister’s happiness. He wouldn’t mind having some of that kind of joy of his own. He took a gulp of sparkling cider, draining the glass. This was the spot where Ava had stood earlier this morning, with the pale morning sunshine sprinkling over her like a blessing.

Then she’d driven away. What had she been thinking? Did she like him at all? She hadn’t acted like it, and yet he’d thought he’d glimpsed something in her eyes. Something that made him think she might be feeling this, too.

Then again, she’d driven off pretty fast. That couldn’t be the best sign.

“There you are, big brother. You’ve been hiding.” Chloe swept close in her cloud of a dress.

“You know me. All this fancy stuff makes me itch.”

She slipped her arm through his. “You look dashing. Five of my former sorority sisters asked me if you were seeing someone.”

“And you said…?”

“That you seem to be interested in someone. But if I’m wrong, I have a long list of available women I can set you up with, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor.”

“You know I had nothing to do with that. It’s not me.” That only made him feel more out of place. Like he was a rich playboy looking for a fast lifestyle or a great catch for a debutante—both equally wrong.

All he wanted was to trade in this getup for his favorite T-shirt, jeans and his broken-in work boots. That’s who he really was, and all this glam and glitter made his palms sweat. He swept his hand toward the cake. “You don’t need to set me up with a date. I can do it myself.”

“Would you rather Mom did it? She’s working on it, you know. I was just trying to help out.”

“I know.” If anyone knew how rough of a time he’d had after the breakup with Whitney, it was Chloe. She meant well. “I can handle it from here.”

“I never doubted it.” She rose up on tiptoe to brush a sisterly kiss to his cheek. “I want you to be happy. I saw how you looked at Ava at my shower.”

“Exactly how was that?”

“Like you were glimpsing heaven. Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything to her, but you should ask her out. I bet she says yes.”

“I’ve tried that, but I don’t think she likes me.” Like he needed his baby sister’s dating advice. He could handle his own love life just fine. “She said no.”

“And since when does Brice Donovan take no for an answer?” She flounced away, grinning over her shoulder at him. “Try again, silly. Look out, here comes Mom.”

The problem was, his mother had been dropping some pretty strong hints lately. Now that she had Chloe successfully matched, she must be refocusing her energy on him. She seemed determined as she barreled through the crowd. Flawless, dressed in diamonds and flowing silk, she looked deceptively like a genteel upper-class lady instead of the five-star general she really was.

“Brice. You have been hiding again.” She tugged at his tie, unknotted and hanging loose. “This isn’t a barnyard. And what are you doing all the way over here? What are people going to think?”

He accepted the china dessert plate a server handed him. “Maybe people will think that I’m having a second piece of cake.”

“Yes. The cake. Horrible, that’s what it is. I don’t know what Chloe was thinking going with that McKaslin girl.”

“That she wanted her friend to make her wedding cake.”

“Ridiculous. That cake is unsophisticated and completely unacceptable. And the taste of it, why, it’s much too sweet. What is wrong with that girl? I told Chloe. I said, you’re going to regret going with her.”

“Mom, stop. You’re doing it again.”

“But did she listen to me? No, she had to have her own way. We ought to have gone with a professional, not some iffy girl who thinks because our family is richer than hers, she has the right to charge us an arm and a leg.”

He laid a hand on his mom’s arm to stop her. Sometimes she got such a wind going—sort of like gravity’s effect on a snowball rolling downhill—that she simply couldn’t realize what she was saying. “Chloe’s happy, and that’s all that matters. Besides, how much did Ava charge?”

“Ava, is it?” Mom’s face pinched, something only she could do and still look dignified. “I wouldn’t be so familiar with her if I were you. Her family has money, goodness, but that mother of hers.”

“People have been known to say the same thing about Chloe.” He said it gently, because he knew his mother didn’t mean to be harsh. She simply wasn’t aware of it. “I think Ava did an amazing job. So does everyone else in the room. Maybe you should learn to like sweet. You’re awfully fond of the bitter.”

“That had better not be a veiled reference to me, young man.” His mom smiled and tried to hide it, but her eyes were twinkling. “I work hard for this reputation. If people aren’t afraid of you, they take advantage. Now, come with me and say hello to a few of my dear friends.”

“To the daughters of your friends, you mean.”

“Crystal Frost is back from her disastrous divorce to that big real estate broker in Seattle. She’s perfect for you.”

“Perfect? I don’t think so.” He took a bite of cake, and sweetness flooded his mouth. The frosting was as rich as cream cheese, and the cake was delicious and buttery. Perfect.

“Hello, Brice. Excuse me.” One of his mother’s friends had sauntered over and gestured toward the cake. “Lynn, this is all so lovely. I came to plead for the name of the designer. My Carly must have a cake like this for her wedding.”

Brice knew it would probably drain his mother of her life energy to say something kind about anyone. She was his mom, so he tried to save her from herself. And he wanted to help the cute baker, even if she didn’t want to have coffee with him. “Ava McKaslin is the designer and I highly recommend her. Chloe loved working with her.”

“Oh, let me think which McKaslin girl. Oh, of course. The friend of your sister’s. One of the twins?”

“Yep. She has a shop off Cherry Lane. My company starts renovation on it this week.”

“I know which shop you mean. Why, thank you, Brice. You do know that my Crystal is back from Seattle. She’s here somewhere.” Maxime scanned the room. “Where did she go?”

Uh-oh. Time to escape while he could. “I have to go. Mrs. Frost, it was good seeing you again. Bye, Mom.”

He left quickly and didn’t look back. It wasn’t until he hit the foyer that he realized he still had hold of his dessert plate. Ava’s cake. As if he couldn’t quite let her go.

* * *

The only reason Ava heard her cell ring was because of the break between songs. The electronic chime echoed in the silence of her shop’s kitchen. She set down her pastry cone, hit the Pause button on her CD player and went in search of her phone.

Not in her apron pocket. Not on the kitchen counter. She followed the electronic ringing to her gym bag. She unzipped the outside compartment and ta da, there it was.

As she grabbed her phone, she realized it was after four. Mrs. Carnahan was supposed to drop by for the birthday cake in ten minutes! Good thing it was almost done. Well, it would be done if she’d stop fussing. But after this morning’s disaster, she wanted this cake to be perfect.

She flipped open the phone. “I’m late, I know. I was supposed to call an hour ago. My bad.”

Instead of her sister’s sensible response, a man’s resonant chuckle vibrated in her ear. “Keeping your boyfriend waiting?”

It took her a moment to place that voice. Brice Donovan. If he was calling, that could only mean one thing. “Chloe wasn’t happy with the cake?”

Disappointment drained her and she sank onto the floor next to her gym bag. Not only had she failed at something she’d tried her hardest at, something that she was good at, but she’d let down a friend. “I’m so sorry.”

“Now, wait one minute. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” His voice warmed like melting chocolate, kind and friendly. “I’m calling to thank you. You made her very happy. She didn’t want to cut into the cake because it was too pretty.”

“Really? Chloe was happy? Whew!” That was a relief. Now, if she could just forget flinging insults, she’d be doing well. Don’t even think about what happened, she told herself. Look forward, not back. Don’t dwell on what went wrong.

Problem was, that was easier said and not so easy to do. She took a quivering breath. “Good. Then my work is done.”

“And your work is?”

“To make this world a sweeter place one cake at a time. I know it’s not solving world strife, but it’s the only talent I seem to have, so I’m going with it.”

“Surely that’s not your only gift.”

“Uh, you don’t want to hear the long list of disasters I’ve left in my wake. Speaking of which, I have a cake to get ready and box for a client.”

“You can’t do that and talk to me?”

“If I want to drop the cake. I need two hands.”

Don’t think of him in that tux, she thought. Or how amazing he looked. Or how kind he’d been when he’d helped her recover her keys. What had he been thinking when she’d driven away? That unreadable expression in his eyes came back to her now and unsettled her. Why?

Just forget it, Ava. Just forget him. “I appreciate the call. Thank you.”

“Well, now, I’m not done with you yet.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She couldn’t keep the curiosity out of her voice. Or the smile. Both the humiliation she’d felt and the failure seemed far away. Maybe it was because she knew this was a pity call. He felt sorry for the dopey cake lady. Face it, he was Mr. Wow, and she was lucky to keep the date and time straight.

That meant this was a business call. How great was that? She hadn’t totally embarrassed herself beyond redemption after all. Cool. “Hopefully you’re interested in placing an order?”

“You’ve got a renovation coming up. How are you going to fill your orders?”

He probably knew about the upcoming renovation because Chloe had been the one to recommend a construction company. “I’m planning on using my sister’s kitchen. She’s spending most of her evenings with her fiancé and his daughter, so I’ve commandeered her condo.”

“Then maybe you and I can talk later. Say, Monday morning, bright and early?”

“Oops. Can’t. I have construction dudes coming by bright and early.”

“That’s a coincidence because I—”

“I’m totally sorry, but my customer is here. Can I call you back and we can make an appointment? I can show you my catalogue and have some samples ready.”

“Why don’t I come by on Monday sometime?” Brice leaned back in his car seat and could see the bakery’s front door over the curve of the side mirror. There was a grandmotherly woman at the front door, waving at Ava through the glass.

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I really appreciate this. Bye!” There was a click in his ear.

He slid his sunglasses down his nose to get a better view as the front door swung open and there was Ava, dressed in her jeans and that yellow T-shirt, her hair tied back and her genuine smile bright as she waved her hands, talking away to her customer.

Okay, this wasn’t how he figured things would go. Again. Ava wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

She caught his gaze again, moving back into sight with a cake made like a giant dump truck. The red chassis and the bright blue bed made it look like the real toy. Even from a distance, he could see the details. The driver behind the steering wheel, the big black tires, and real-looking dirt.

When she opened the other box, he watched the grandmother’s face brighten a notch. There were what had to be small cake rocks about the size of his thumb in chubby yellow buckets. One for each little guest, he figured.

The grandmother looked delighted. But it was the sight of Ava that drew him, multifaceted and flawless, shining like one perfect jewel. She probably didn’t realize how she shone from the inside out when she was happy. How caring she was as she refolded the side panels and tucked the lids of the boxes into place. How she waved away what was probably a compliment with ease. She was like no one he’d ever seen before.

Something happened inside him when he looked at Ava. Something that made his spirit come more alive.

He was going to try again. She was a sparkle he could not resist.

He put the car into gear and started driving. Her cheerful words replayed in his mind. Hopefully you’re interested in placing an order? She’d sounded so full of joy. How was he going to tell her he hadn’t meant he wanted to order a cake, but to talk to her about that cup of coffee he’d mentioned earlier?

And what about the renovation? She’d sounded as if the construction guys who were coming had nothing to do with him and his company. She did know he was a part owner, right?

Then again, Ava might not have noticed. His business partner, Rafe, had handled the contracts and the scheduling, and was supervising this project.

Brice hit the speed dial on his cell and waited for it to connect. He’d see if Rafe wouldn’t mind switching jobs. Being around Ava every working day for the next two weeks sounded like a good idea. No, a brilliant idea, considering how much he wanted to get to know her.

How would she take it? He was definitely anxious to see the look on her face when he walked into her shop bright and early Monday morning. What would happen then? Only God knew.

One thing was for sure, it was going to be a whole lot of fun to find out.

* * *

“Good news!” Ava announced as she sailed through the front door of their apartment. “Mrs. Carnahan loved the cake. She said her little grandson was going to be so happy. And your idea about adding bonus party favors at no charge—it was brilliant. She loved the little rocks I made.”

Her twin, Aubrey, poked her head out of the kitchen. “What did I tell you?”

“I know, you’re always right. I don’t deny it.” Ava rolled her eyes, shut the door with her foot and dropped her purse, gym bag and keys on the floor. “Instead of take-out burgers, I splurged and got Thai. Cashew chicken, stir-fried rice and that noodle dish you love.”

“Well done.” Aubrey’s smile turned full-fledged as she reached for the big take-out sack. “Hurry up, get changed. I’ll get us all set up.”

“I’m late, I know. But it was an excellent day despite it all. Who knew?” Ava took off for her bedroom, a total disaster. One day when she got enough time, it would be the epitome of orderliness. But since she wasn’t sure when that would be, she had to go with the flow.

Knowing Aubrey was waiting, she tossed her clothes on the floor, kicked her sandals toward the closet and dug around in the laundry basket of clean clothes for her favorite sweatpants and T-shirt. After she found her fuzziest socks, she flew down the little hall.

Aubrey was in the living room setting two heaping plates of food onto two TV trays facing the wide-screen TV they couldn’t afford but got anyway. Not smart, and her poor credit card was bent from the weight of debt, but it was nice to watch Clark Gable in forty-two-inch glory.

“If you would have remembered to call before I hit the video store, you would have had some say in tonight’s movie,” Aubrey said as she settled down on the couch.

“Hey, the cell waves work both ways. You could have called me.”

“I’m always calling you.” Aubrey reached for her napkin and shook it open over her lap. “So, I take it the Donovan cake delivery went well this morning. You haven’t mentioned the groom. What happened with that?”

“Oh, that’s a disaster. Total doom. You know me.” While she’d told her sister about insulting Brice Donovan, she hadn’t given her the day’s full update.

“Men.” Aubrey shook her head, disapproving. “And to think Chloe’s groom, Mark Upton, is supposed to be like last year’s most eligible bachelor. Philanthropic. An upstanding Christian. I guess it just shows, you never know about some men. They show one face when they really have another.”

“Well, now, that’s not exactly the case.” Ava slipped behind the TV tray and plopped onto the couch. “Whew, I’m starved. Your turn to say the blessing.”

“What happened? Are you telling me that he showed up this morning at the country club and apologized? Or no, there was a mix up. He didn’t proposition you, did he? You jumped to conclusions like you always do and accused him of it. Right? When it wasn’t true?”

“You’re partly right. I was asked out to coffee, sure, but it wasn’t by Mr. Upland. I thought it was, but you know me, like I can remember everyone I’ve ever met.”

“We went to school with Mark Upton. Don’t you remember?”

“I was busy in high school. How was I supposed to know everyone? Besides, I don’t recognize a lot of people. I’m not good with faces.”

“Or names.”

“Or names.” How could she argue with that? She wanted to keep things light and funny, that’s the way she felt comfortable with everything. Anything serious or painful, well, that made her feel way too much. And once you started really feeling, then you had to face all the other emotions you were trying to avoid.

Avoidance was a very good policy. At least, she was doing fine avoiding the things that hurt the most. Take today. She didn’t have to think about the fact that Brice Donovan might think she was a disaster, too, but he wanted to order a cake. She’d concentrate on the cake part, and try hard not to think about anything else.

Not that she was having the greatest luck with that.

“So what really happened?” Aubrey asked, taking possession of the remote before Ava could grab it and divert her with the movie. “It’s okay. You can tell me. It isn’t as bad as you think. Really.”

Easy for Aubrey, who thought things through before she opened her mouth. Aubrey who never made a mistake of any kind, who never embarrassed herself, who never locked her keys in the car.

Remembering how Brice Donovan’s voice had sounded, kind and not belittling, made the yuck of her morning fade a few shades.

“I’ll tell you after the movie.” Ava shrugged. Some things she didn’t even want to talk about, even with her twin. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she knew it made Aubrey sad to be shut out like that, but she didn’t want to share every detail.

She wanted to do things right for a change—not just try really hard and then fail, but to really stay focused and careful and committed. One day, maybe she could be the girl who didn’t make a mess, who didn’t insult Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor or who frustrated people so much they simply left her for good.

As Aubrey bowed her head, beginning the blessing, Ava bowed her head, too. But she added a silent prayer to Aubrey’s. Show me the way, Lord. Please, I don’t want to mess up anymore. Show me how to be different. Better.

There was no answer, just the click of the remote as Aubrey hit a button. The TV flared to life, showing a classic movie with a silver-screen hero. Maybe if she met a man like that, she might make an exception to her no-man policy.

She grabbed her fork and dug into the cashew chicken, but did she pay attention to the movie? No. Who was she thinking about?

Brice Donovan and how he’d looked like a real gentleman in his tux. How he’d looked like one of her forgotten dreams when he’d been standing in the full brightness of the morning sun, looking as vibrant and as substantial as a legend come true. But it was just a trick of the light. Legends didn’t exist in real life, and real love didn’t happen to her.

Chapter Four

It was a beautiful Monday morning, and Ava was on her way to meet the construction dudes. Okay, in truth, she was going to ply them with her special batch of homemade doughnuts and signature coffee. She might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but she wasn’t the dimmest. It was only common sense that people worked better when they were well fueled.

This renovation was a step toward her dream. Tangible and real, and all the hammering and sawing and dust to come would transform the dingy little place into a baker’s delight. This was fabulous, something to celebrate, right?

Right. At least, she should be feeling so buoyant with happiness that she ought to be floating. But sadly her happiness felt subdued and superficial like icing on the cake, and nothing deeper. Why?

She’d been down a little ever since Brice Donovan’s call. Did that make any sense?

No. So what was all this being sad stuff about?

Concentrate on the positive, Ava.

She screeched into the closest parking space since her favorite spot—right beneath the shade of a broad-leafed maple—was already taken by a big forest green pickup truck. It was the ostentatious kind that looked as if it cost more than a house. There was a lot of chrome glinting in the low-rising sun and big lights on top of a custom cab. It probably belonged to one of the construction guys.

Yep, there was one standing on the sidewalk with his back to her. He seemed to be looking over the front of the shop with a contractor’s discerning eye.

She cut the engine and grabbed her cell from the console and her bag from the front passenger seat. It was still early, only ten minutes to seven. She’d have time to get the coffee canisters set up and the doughnuts laid out before the rest of the workers arrived. She elbowed the door open, stepped down from the seat and the second her shoe touched the ground she felt it. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

The construction worker hadn’t moved. He was still staring at the front windows—and she could see his reflection as clearly as she could see her own. He looked remarkably like Brice Donovan. That handsome face, sculpted cheekbones and chin, straight nose and strong jaw were all the same. Except for one thing—how could that be Brice? It made no sense. She gave the door a shove to close it.

She had Brice Donovan on the brain. That’s why her emotions were all off-kilter. That’s why she wasn’t fully enjoying the beautiful morning or this first momentous day of construction.

Brice Donovan. It wasn’t as if she even liked him a tiny bit. Really. So what was going on? Maybe it was stress, she decided as she circled around to the back of the vehicle and realized she hadn’t hit the door release.

No problem. She looked down at her cell phone. Where were her keys?

The automatic locks clicked shut all on their own.

Great. Wonderful. Terrific. She’d done it again! Why wasn’t she paying better attention?

Well, if she hadn’t been thinking of Brice Donovan, then she wouldn’t have been distracted. See? This was why she had to stick to her no-man policy—all the way. No exceptions. Even thinking of him just a little caused problems.

She leaned her forehead against the rear window and took a deep breath. All she needed was to call Aubrey. Plus, there was a silver lining in all this. At least this time she hadn’t locked her cell phone in, too. Hey, it could be worse.

She flipped open her phone when a startling familiar baritone rumbled right behind her. “Let me guess. You’re in need of rescuing again.”

Brice Donovan? She turned around and there he was, looking totally macho in workmen’s clothes. The lettering on the light gray T-shirt he wore said it all: D&M Construction, the name of the company she’d hired for the renovation. How on earth did he have a shirt with that company name? Did he work for them?

Then it hit her. Maybe the D stood for Donovan. Wow.

He jammed his hands into his pockets, emphasizing the muscled set of his shoulders. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“Surprised.” So surprised she had to lean against the fender for support. “What are you doing here?”

“Rafe Montgomery was going to do the job, but I sweet-talked him into trading.”

“Lucky me.” Ava’s mind swirled. Montgomery must be the M in the company. Rafe had been a nice man who’d been her contact. “But why are you here in workman’s clothes. Aren’t you like an investment broker or something?”

“That would be my dad. Rafe Montgomery and I got to talking one night while we were studying for our graduate school exams. What we were really dreading wasn’t taking the test, it was being cooped up in an office all day. Just like our dads. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind putting in a good hard day’s work, but I felt put in a box. It wasn’t for either of us. So we pooled our resources and went into business.”

That was the most unlikely story she’d ever heard. MBA dudes who built stuff? “I’d like to think you had woodworking training. A certificate of carpentry competence.”

“I’m good at what I do, believe me.”

Oh, she did believe him. And how was it possible that he looked even better dressed for work than he had the other day in a tux? Today he looked genuine, capable and very manly.

“Let me get a coat hanger.” He strode to the green pickup and opened the crew-cab door. A big golden retriever tumbled out and ping-ponged in place in front of Brice, tongue lolling. “Whoa there, boy.”

Okay, she melted. She couldn’t help it—she was a softy when it came to dogs. “What’s his name?”

Goofy brown eyes fastened on her. That big doggy mouth swung wide, showing dozens of sharp teeth. The huge canine launched toward her, tongue out and grinning, moving so fast he was a golden-brown blur.

“Rex, no! Come back here.” Brice reached for his collar to catch him.

Too late.

Ava didn’t have time to brace herself, because the dog was already leaping on her, plopping one front paw on either side of her neck, almost hugging her. His tongue swiped across her chin. Happy chocolate eyes studied hers with sheer joy.

“Brice, I’m in love with your dog.” She couldn’t help it. The big cuddly retriever hugged her harder before dropping down on all four paws. As if he knew how much he’d charmed her, he posed handsomely, staring up adoringly with those sweet eyes.

“Excuse him. He’s very friendly. Too friendly.” Brice grabbed his collar. “This may come as a shock to you but he failed every obedience class he’s been in. From puppy school all the way up to the academy.”

“Academy?”

“I hired professionals, but in the end, he won.” Brice turned his attention to the retriever, his face softening, his big hand stroking over the crown of the canine’s downy head. He received a few swipes of that lolling tongue and laughed. “Life’s hard enough, isn’t it? Without being told what to do every second of the day.”

Ava couldn’t believe it. The big, macho, most eligible bachelor was tough looking with all his masculine strength and charm, but she knew his secret. He was a big marshmallow underneath.

Not that she was interested. Really.

“This’ll only take a second, now that I have the routine down.” He took a wire hanger—she hadn’t even noticed when he’d fetched it from his truck—and unbent it enough to slide it between the frame of the door and the roof.

True to his word, a few seconds later he’d hit the lock and was pulling her key from the ignition and silencing the alarm. He hit the back door release for her.

Okay, he was really a decent guy. On the surface anyway, and that’s the only level on which she intended to know him. He was the D in D&M Construction, so that meant for better or worse, she was stuck with him. Not that she thought for a moment he actually did the hard work. No, he was probably more of a figurehead. He probably just oversaw projects. He was Roger Donovan’s son, right?

She lifted the back and slid out the bakery box, and Rex bounded up to sniff at it.

“Hey, buddy, these are not for you.” Ava might be charmed by the big cuddly dog, but she wasn’t that big of a pushover. “Sit.”

The retriever grinned up at her with every bit of charisma he possessed.

“Look at him drool. That can only mean one thing. There must be doughnuts in that box.” There was Brice, as large as life, wrapping one big, powerful hand around the canine’s blue nylon collar. “Need any help carrying those?”

“I suppose you like doughnuts, too.”

“Guilty.” His warm eyes and dazzling grin, those dimples and personality and his hard appearance made him look good down to the soul.

She had been fooled by this type of guy before, but not this time. “These are not for you. They are for your crew. For the men who actually work for a living instead of walking around owning companies.”

“Hey, I work hard.”

“I don’t see a hammer.” She reached for a second box, but he beat her to it. It was heavy with big thermos-type coffee canisters. “I see you eyeing the thermoses and no, you may not have any of that either. Not unless you’re a construction dude, and I don’t see a tool belt strapped to your waist.”

“That’s not fair. My tools are in my truck.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure they are.”

Brice shut the door and hit the remote. Rex bounced at his hip, the dog’s gaze glued to the pink bakery box. “You know I’m the on-site manager of this project, right?”

“I’ll have to see it to believe it.” She snapped ahead of him with that quick-paced walk of hers, her yellow sneakers squeaking with each step. “I still don’t get why you’re here. Why I’m plagued with you and that dog of yours.”

She eyed him like a judge awaiting a guilty verdict, but she didn’t fool him. Not one bit. He saw in her eyes and in the hint of her smile what she was trying to hide. He wasn’t the only one wondering.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one wishing.

“Where do you want these?” he asked of the stuff he was carrying.

She gestured to the worn wooden counter in front of them, where she’d set the bakery box and was lifting the lid.

He did as she asked and nearly went weak in the knees at the aroma wafting out from the open box. Sweet cake doughnuts, the comforting bite of chocolate, the richness of custard and the mouthwatering sweet huckleberries that glistened like fat blue jelly beans.

“Where did you get these?” The question wasn’t past his lips before he knew the answer. “You made these. You.”

“Okay, that’s so surprising? I’m a baker. Hel-lo.” She rolled her eyes at him, but it was cute, the way she shook her head as if she simply didn’t know about him. Yep, he knew what she was trying to do. Because whatever was happening between them felt a little scary, like standing on the edge of a crumbling precipice and knowing while the fall was certain, the how and what of the landing was not.

She pulled a bag of paper plates from her big shoulder bag, ripped it open and pulled out a plate. She slid the berries-and-cream-topped doughnut onto the plate and handed it to him. “I saw you eyeing it.”

Had she noticed how he’d been looking at her? He thought she was two hundred times sweeter than that doughnut. “How about some cups?”

“Here.” She pulled a bag of them from her mammoth bag. “Which doughnut should I give your dog?”

Rex gave a small bark of delight and sat on his haunches like the best dog in the world. His doggy gaze was glued on the bottom corner of the bakery box.

“He’d take every last one. Don’t trust him if you leave that box uncovered.”

“Oh, he’s a good guy. It’s you I don’t trust,” she said with a hint of a grin. “You said you traded with Mr. Montgomery. I want to know why.”

Just his luck. He filled two cups with sweetened, aromatic coffee and handed her one. “How about grace, first?”

“I’ve already had my breakfast.” She took the coffee.

Their fingertips brushed and it was a little like being hit by a lightning strike from a blue sky. His heartbeat lurched to a stop. What was it about Ava that seemed to make his world stand still?

She gave him another judgmental look like a prim schoolmarm as she put a glazed doughnut on a second plate. Rex’s tail thumped like a jackhammer against the scarred tile floor. She knelt to set the plate on the floor.

“What a nice polite gentleman,” she praised, and gave him a pat.

Rex sat a moment to further fool Ava into thinking he was a perfect dog before he wolfed down the doughnut in two bites.

“You’re welcome,” she said as she patted him again and removed the plate. “Oh, some of the men are driving up now. Good.”

Brice tried not to let it bother him that she disregarded him completely as she disappeared through the kitchen door. This was not how most single ladies reacted to him. He considered the steaming cup of coffee he held and the plate with the delectable doughnut.

Lord, I’m gonna need help with this one. If it’s Your will, please show me the way.

The doors swung closed as if in answer, swinging open again to show a glimpse of Ava, washed in sunlight from the large window. Inexplicably, the sun shone brighter.

* * *

Could the morning be going any more perfectly? The homemade doughnuts were a hit. With promises of more sweet surprises for tomorrow morning, Ava made sure the fridge was stocked with plenty of liquids—it was important to keep the workers hydrated—and gathered up her stuff.

Time to get out of their way. Dust was already flying. Walls were already missing. As curious as she was to see absolutely everything, she knew she’d only be in the way. Besides, she had to work at her family’s bookstore because she had her share of the rent and utilities to pay at month’s end. Not to mention her car payment. Oh, and credit card payments. And her school loans. She grabbed her bag and was in the middle of hunting down her keys when she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone.

“Ava, I’m glad I caught you.” There was Brice, shouldering through the door. “Before you go, I want to go over your final plans.”

“I already did that with Mr. Montgomery. When we talked the other day on the phone, you know, after Chloe’s wedding, you said you wanted to stop by on Monday morning. I assumed that meant you were interested in ordering a cake. But this is why, isn’t it?”

“I can order a cake if you want.”

“It isn’t what I want that’s the question.” Really, that grin of his was infectious. Dashing and charming and utterly disarming. What was a girl to do? How was she supposed to not smile back? She was helpless here. Lord, give me strength, please. “I haven’t forgotten that you tried to ask me out. I mean, I know you changed your mind once I started insulting you.”

“The post-traumatic stress is better, by the way. Although standing in this kitchen might give me a flashback or two.” His grin deepened right along with his dimples. “You’re questioning why I’m here, right? Remember I said that you made my sister happy with her wedding cake?”

“I do.” Leery, that’s what she had to be. On guard. The kindness of his smile was like a tractor beam pulling her in. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start liking this man.

Liking men at all—even platonically—wasn’t a part of her no-man policy. Because that’s how it had happened with Ken, the chef she dated about five months back, and that had ended in disaster. If she didn’t learn lessons from her ten billion mistakes, how was she ever going to feel better about herself?

Brice came closer, his dog trailing after him. “You made Chloe happy, and now I want to return the favor.”

Okay, she could buy that reason. It was actually a nice reason. Which only made him a nicer man in her eyes.

He set a coffee cup down on the metal table between them and gave it a shove in her direction, obviously meant for her. She hadn’t noticed what he’d been carrying.

How could she have not noticed that he was hauling with him a rolled up blueprint, too?

Keep your mind on business, Ava, she ordered herself. Really, it was that smile of Brice’s. It ought to come with a surgeon general’s warning. Beware: Might Have the Gravitational Pull of a Black Hole And Suck You Right In.

“I know you’ve gone over the plans with my partner.” Brice plopped the blueprints on the metal worktable and spread out them out with quick efficiency. He anchored each corner with a battered tape measure and hammer he plucked from his tool belt. “But what I want to know is the dream of what you want. The heart of it. Beyond the computer-generated drawings of this place.”

Okay, that wasn’t what she expected and it disarmed her even more. Emotions tangled in her throat and made her voice thick and strange sounding. “I showed Mr. Montgomery a few pictures of what I had in mind.”

“I’d like to see them.”

Their gazes met, and a connection zinged between them. A sad ache rolled through her and she didn’t know why. She refused to let herself ask. Instead, she fumbled through the top drawer in the battered cabinets. She’d left the magazine pictures here to show the woodworker, just in case.

But turning her back to him gave her no sense of privacy or relief from the aching she felt. Somehow she managed to face him again, but her hands were shaking. She didn’t want to think too hard on the reason for that either. “Here. I’m not looking for exactly this. But something warm and whimsical and unique. In my price range.”

She spread the three full-color pictures on the metal table, turning them so they were right side up for his inspection. Long ago, she’d torn them from magazines she’d come across, tucking them away for the when and if of this dream. The white frame of the pages had dulled to yellow over time, and the ragged edges where she’d torn them from the magazine looked tattered. But the bright glass displays and the intricate woodwork remained as bright and as promising as ever.

“It’s probably beyond my budget, I know, that’s what Mr. Montgomery said. But he thought he could scale it down and still get some of the feeling of the craftsmanship.”

Brice said nothing as he studied the photos, sipping his coffee, taking his time. “Why baking? Why not open a bistro? Or stay working at your family’s bookstore?”

Surprise shot across her face. “You know about the bookstore? Wait, Chloe knows. She probably told you.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Everyone knew about the bookstore. Ava’s grandmother’s family, a wealthy and respected family and one of the area’s original settlers, had owned the store forever. “I need to know what this means to you before I start on the woodwork. Isn’t that what you do before you design a cake for someone?”

“Exactly.” She took a sip of the sweetened coffee and studied him through narrowed eyes, as if she were truly seeing him for the first time.

He could see her heart, shining in her eyes, whole and dazzling. He leaned closer. Couldn’t stop himself.

She turned one of the pictures around to study. “You wouldn’t understand what I want, being Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor and all.”

“You know, I have relatives who work on the local paper. That’s where the list came from. I had nothing to do with it. I’m just a working man, so I bet I can understand. Try me.”

A cute little furrow dug in between her eyes, over the bridge of her nose. Adorable, she shrugged one slim shoulder, and for a moment she looked lost. Sad. “My mom really wasn’t happy being a wife and mother. I know that. But when I was little it felt like I was the one who made her unhappy. I was always spilling stuff and knocking into furniture and forgetting things. Not that I’ve changed that much.” She shrugged again. “This isn’t what you want to hear.”

“This is exactly right. Exactly what I want to know.”

He laid his hand over hers, feeling the warm silk of her skin and the cool smoothness of the magazine page. One picture was of bistro tables washed in sunlight, framed by golden, scrolled wood and crisp white clouds of curtains. It looked like something out of a children’s storybook, where evil was easily defeated, where every child was loved and where love always won.

That’s what he knew she saw on the page, he knew because he could see her heart so clearly.

She drew in a ragged breath, her voice thin with emotion, her eyes turning an arresting shade of indigo. “One thing that always went right was when I was with Mom in the kitchen. She wasn’t much of a baker, but I had spent a lot of time with Gran in the kitchen, she taught me to bake, and I liked the quiet time. Measuring sugar and sifting flour. Getting everything just right.”

She paused as if noticing for the first time that his hand still covered hers. She didn’t try to move away. Did she know how vulnerable she looked? How good and true? He didn’t think so. He feared his heart, hurting so much for her, would never be the same.

“This reminds you of baking with your Mom,” he said.

“Sort of. I remember the kitchen smelled wonderful when the cookies or the cakes were cooling. And afterward there was the frosting to whip up and the decorating to do. It’s the one thing I could always do right. It made everyone happy, for how ever little time that happiness lasted, it was there.”

“And then your mother left?”

Ava gently tugged her hand out from beneath his. She lowered her gaze, veiled her heart. That was a scandal of huge proportion. Everybody had known at the time, and in a small city that was really just one big small town, everybody still remembered although twenty years had passed. “I want this to be like a place where customers feel like they’ve stepped into a storybook. Not childish, just—” She couldn’t think of the word.

“You want a place where it feels as if wishes can come true.”

How did he know that? Ava took a shaky breath and tucked away the honesty she shouldn’t have hauled out like dirty laundry in a basket. She was so not a wishing kind of girl. Not anymore.

She grabbed her bag again, not remembering when exactly it had slipped from her shoulder to the floor. “I’d better get going. I’m late for my shift at the bookstore.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.” The word popped out before she could stop it.

He winced. “Well, that’s not my intention. We got off on the wrong foot. Is that what’s bothering you?”

“No. Yes.”

“Which is it?”

“I don’t know.” All she knew was that he felt way too close, although she’d crossed half of the kitchen on the way to the door and it still didn’t make any difference. She took a shaky breath. “I should have recognized you. I mean, I’m usually so busy in my own little world, I don’t notice everything I should.”

“Well, I didn’t introduce myself, so when you think about it, it could be all my fault.”

“You’re being too nice.”

“That’s better than being Mr. Yuck, right?”

“Maybe.”

That made his dimples flash. “What do you do with your time, besides baking incredible cakes?”

“Hang out with my sisters, mostly. Doing my part to contribute to consumer debt. That kind of thing.” And that was all she was going to share with him because anything else would be way too personal. “Okay, what did I do with my keys?”

“I might have ’em.” He reached into his back pocket and then there they were in the palm of his hand.

Oops. It looked as if she would have to move closer to him to get them. Her chest tightened and her emotions felt like one big aching mess. Was it because of the story she’d told him, about baking with her mother? Or was he the reason?

She knew the answer simply by looking at him. His appearance—the worn T-shirt, battered Levi’s and beat-up black work boots—all shouted tough guy, but in a really good, hardworking way. Add that to his kindness and class—and he was totally wishable.

Not that she was wishing.

As he strode toward her with the slow measured gait of a hunter, she didn’t feel stalked. No, she felt drawn. As if he’d gathered up her tangled heartstrings and gave them a gentle shake. There were no more knots, just one simple, honest feeling running up those strings and straight into her heart.

She didn’t want to be drawn to any man. Especially not him.

She grabbed the keys, careful to scoop them from his hand without any physical contact. But something had changed between them and she couldn’t deny it.

“Thanks,” she said in a practically normal-sounding voice. “You have my cell number if there’s a problem, right?”

“Right.”

She could feel him watching her as she yanked open the door. Rex bounded toward her and she almost forgot about Brice. She knelt down to give his head a good rubbing. “It was very nice meeting you, boy. I’ll bring some muffins tomorrow. Is that all right by you?”

Rex lapped her cheek and panted in perfect agreement.

She had one foot over the threshold when Brice’s voice called her back. “See you tomorrow, Ava. And thanks for sharing a cup of coffee with me.”

Coffee. That made her screech to a total halt. Her mind sat there, idling. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted to do in the beginning? He’d wanted to get to know her over a cup of coffee.

And he had.

She wanted to leap to the quick conclusion that she’d been tricked. But it wasn’t that simple. She’d been the one to bring the coffee in the first place. It was her coffee, her kitchen, her renovation project. It was her heart she had to hold on to as she took the other step through the door and closed Brice Donovan from her sight.

Chapter Five

Ava burst through the employee’s entrance door in the back of the Corner Christian Bookstore. The big problem? Her oldest sister was heating a cup of tea in the break room’s microwave and she had that look. The one where she frowned, shook her head slowly from side to side as if this was exactly what she expected.

“Oops, I’m late.” Ava slid the bakery box onto the small battered Formica table. “My bad. But I brought chocolate.”

“That doesn’t begin to make up for it.” The corner of Katherine’s mouth twitched, as if she were holding back a smile. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing. I’m your little sister and you love me.”

“Not at much as Aubrey,” she teased. “Aubrey showed up twenty-three minutes early for her shift.”

“True.” Aubrey appeared from the other doorway that led to the floor. “I smell doughnuts. The doughnuts that were missing from our kitchen this morning. I came back from the stables and had nothing to eat. You didn’t have to take every last one with you.”

“Hey, the real question is why would you walk by a kitchen full of boxed doughnuts and not take any in the first place?” With a wink, Ava shoved open the small employee’s closet and dumped her bag on the floor.

“What could have possessed me, I wonder?” Aubrey flipped open the box and stole a chocolate huckleberry custard. “The construction dudes were—”

“Cool. Loved the doughnuts. Started beating down walls with their sledgehammer thingies right away.” Ava grabbed a cup from the upper cabinet and filled it from the sink tap.

Don’t think of Brice, she ordered herself. Too late. There he was in her mind’s eye. Standing in her kitchen, looking like a good man, radiating character. Normally, she’d be so interested, but if she let herself like him, that would be just another huge mistake in a long, endless string of disasters.

Don’t start wishing now, she told herself, letting her big sister Katherine take the mug from her hands and slip it into the microwave to heat.

“You look down,” Katherine commented as she added honey to her steaming teacup, her engagement ring sparkling. “That can’t be good. This is your first day of renovation. You should be excited. What’s going on?”

“Uh-oh.” Aubrey had a twin moment.

Great. Somehow she had telebeamed her thoughts to her twin; they seemed to share brain cells. Ava felt the humiliation creeping through her all over again. “Don’t say it. Let’s just not go into it.”

Ava could sense Katherine’s question hovering in the air unspoken between them, wanting to know what was wrong and how she could help. Dear Katherine meant well, wanting to take care of everyone and fixing what she could, but what do you do when you know there’s no solution to a problem?

You refocus yourself, that’s what, and concentrate on preventing disasters. There was Brice Donovan again, flashing across her brain pan. Definitely disaster material.

Hayden, Katherine’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, poked her head around the door. “Hey, like, Spence is totally freaking out. There’s no one out there to ring up and stuff.”

“So? Our brother is always freaking out.”

“I’ll go,” Aubrey said. “I’m supposed to be watching the front anyway. I’ll take this with me, though.” With a grin she slipped past the teenager with her chocolate-covered doughnut in hand.

“Like that’s going to make Spence happy.” The kid shrugged her gangly shoulders. “Maple bars, too? Cool, Ava.”

“I knew they were your favorite, not that I like you or anything.” Ava hid her smile, knowing she wasn’t so successful.

Hayden grinned, snatched a doughnut. “Thanks!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared back into the stacks.

Talk about weird. “Are you ready to be a stepmom?” Ava already knew the answer, but it was called a diversionary tactic. She so did not want to talk about her shop, her dreams, and how it had all gotten tangled up with Mr. Wishable. “You’ll be marrying Jack in two more months.”

“I know. Time is melting way and it feels as if I’m never going to have everything ready for the wedding.” Katherine waited for the microwave to ding. She opened the door, dropped a tea bag into the steaming water and left it on the counter to steep. “But I’m more than ready to be a stepmom. Hayden is a part of Jack. How could I not love her? Speaking of which, how are the designs for my cake coming along?”

Okay, another topic to avoid. “I’m working on it. Honest.”

“I have all the faith in the world in you, sweetie.”

Wasn’t that the problem? “I’ve got some great sketches, but I’ve got a few more ideas I want to work out before we sit back down.”

“Do you know what we should do?” Katherine pushed the plastic bear-shaped bottle of honey along the counter. “We’ll all go out to a nice dinner, my treat. To celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

Katherine shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe it. “The first day of construction on your shop? This has been your dream forever, right?”

“I can’t tonight. I have a consultation. Maybe later, though? Besides, you’re just in a good mood because you’ve found Mr. Dream Come True. Not everyone is as lucky.” She didn’t mean to sound wistful, really. She was deeply happy for her sister. Katherine deserved a good man and a happy marriage. And, seeing that it had happened for her sister after all this time, it almost gave a girl a little hope it could happen to her.

Not that she’d go around praying for it, because she’d tried that route before. She had a gift for prayer. She might make a mess of everything she touched, she might show up late for work and forget where she put her keys, but what she prayed for almost always happened. Hence her last relationship disasters with Mike, Brett and Ken. Before that, Isaiah, Christian and Lloyd. It was that old adage, be careful what you wish for. Which was why she wasn’t, not even silently, wishing. Really.

“I know something isn’t right.” Katherine frowned as if she were trying to figure out what. “I know you’ve got to be under a lot of pressure getting your business off the ground, but you know you’re not alone, right? You say the word and we’re right with you. In fact, you might not have a chance to say the word before we barge in.”

Was she blessed with her awesome family or what? Ava’s eyes burned. She was grateful to the Lord for her wonderful sisters. “You know me. I know how to holler.”

“Excellent.” Katherine brushed some of Ava’s windblown hair out of her eyes. “Whatever’s got you down, remember you are just the way God made you. And that makes you perfectly lovable, sweetie. Trust me.”

She didn’t know about being perfectly lovable but she did know that her sister—her family—was on her perfectly lovable list. Blessings she gave thanks for every day of her life. Katherine’s words meant everything.

The morning had been perfect. The construction workers were hardworking family men who were very happy with the box of doughnuts. And—surprise!—Brice looked like a good boss and a hard worker himself. She was confident that the renovation would be terrific when it was done.

She was the problem since she wavered on what she said she wanted. No, she wasn’t exactly wavering. But she’d almost given in to wishing and that was just as bad. She had to be more careful. More determined.

A deep, frustrated huff sounded at the inner door. It was Spence, glowering. “There you two are. Ava, you’re late. For, what, the fifteenth shift in a row?”

“Probably. Sorry.” Ava couldn’t argue. She upended the plastic bear over her cup and gave it a hard squeeze. “But I’m here now, so that’s good, right? I mean, it could be worse. I could be even later.”

That was the logic that always confounded Spence. His Heathcliff personality couldn’t seem to understand and he stormed away.

She wasn’t fooled. His bark was much worse than his bite.

“He’s under a lot of pressure,” Katherine excused him as she grabbed a cinnamon twist from the box on her way to the front. “Thanks for the goodies, cutie.”

Alone in the break room, Ava took a sip of her tea, but the chamomile blend didn’t soothe her. She dumped in more honey, and that didn’t do the trick either. A big piece of sadness sat square in the middle of her chest, stronger after having been with Brice.

His words came back to her now. You want a place where it feels as if wishes can come true. He’d said what was in her heart.

How had he known?

At a loss, she headed out front. She had bills to pay and dreams to dream—and a no-man policy to stick to.

* * *

Ava had lingered in his thoughts all through the workday, all of Brice’s waking hours and into the next morning. He hadn’t looked forward to strapping on his tool belt this much in a long time. Though he liked his work, it was the prospect of seeing Ava that made the difference.

His commitment to this renovation project was about more than work. He wanted to do a good job with it—hands down, customer satisfaction was job one. But beyond that, he wanted to do his best to give Ava her dream. Listening to her talk about baking with her mom—the mom who had run off to Hollywood with the youngest daughter decades ago and had never been heard from since—was like a sign from above pointing the way to win her heart.

He wondered if Ava had any idea how purely her inner beauty shone when she talked about being happy like that? In wanting again, for others and for herself, a joy-filled place where wishes could come true?

She was a different kind of woman than he was used to. Whitney had been exactly what his mom had wanted for him. She was from a respectable family, from money older than the state of Montana. The right schools and the proper social obligations and charity work. But in the end, she’d been wrong for him. Wrong for the man he really was, not Roger Donovan’s son, but a Montanan born and raised, who liked his life a little more comfortable and far less showy.

The shop had a decimated look to it, even gilded by the golden peach of the newly rising sun. The interior walls were bare down to the studs, which glowed like honey in the morning light. The white dip and rise of electrical wire ran like a clothesline the length of the room. Dust coated the windows, but he could see the promise. See her dream.

Rex romped to the front door, springing in place with excitement. His tongue rolled out of his mouth as he panted, and since Brice was taking too long, pawed at the door handle.

“Hold on there, bud. I’m eager to see Ava, too.”

The retriever gave a low bark when he heard Ava’s name.

Yeah, at least the dog liking her wouldn’t be an issue the way it was with Whitney. Yet another sign, Brice figured as he picked through his mammoth ring of work keys, found the one for the shop and unlocked the door. Whitney hadn’t been fond of big, bouncing, sometimes slobbery dogs. Brice was.

The second the door was open an inch, Rex hit it at a dead run and launched through the open kitchen doors. There on the worktable was a bright pink bakery box. That explained the retriever’s eagerness. They may have missed Ava, but she’d left a consolation prize.

She’d come before his shift started, left her baking and skedaddled. Apparently, there was a good reason. Like maybe the comment he’d made about finally getting to talk with her over coffee. Maybe—just maybe—he shouldn’t have pointed that out.

Right when he’d thought he was making progress with her, getting to know her, letting her know the kind of man he was, he’d hit a brick wall.

Apparently Ava wasn’t as taken with him as he was with her.

Wow. That felt like a hard blow to his sternum. Here was the question: Did he pursue this or not? Sure, they’d gotten off on the wrong foot when she’d mistaken him for Chloe’s groom, but even after that, she’d been determined to put some distance between them.

Face it, this was one-sided. He’d stood right here in this kitchen and got to know her, seen right through to her dreams. He was captivated by her. He was falling in serious like with her.

But now? She was missing in action.

Rex’s bark echoed in the vacant kitchen.

“Okay, okay.” Brice popped open the huge bakery box. “Only one, and I mean it this time. All this baked stuff can’t be good for you—”

He fell silent at the treats inside the box. She’d promised muffins, but these weren’t like anything he’d ever seen. They were huge muffins shaped like cute, round monsters. They had ropy icing for hair, big goofy eyes, a potato nose and a wide grin. Two dozen monster faces stared up at him, colorful and whimsical.

Ava made the ordinary unusual and fun. He liked that about her. Very much.

He’d been praying, to find a good woman to love and marry. Have a few kids. Live a happy life. That had been part of his plan for a long time, but it just hadn’t worked out for one reason or another. In fact, it hadn’t worked out for such a length of time that began to feel as if his prayer was destined to remain unanswered.

The front door swung open and heavy boots pounded against the floor, echoing in the demolished room. It was Tim, the electrician. “Hey, where are those muffins she promised?”

“In here.”

“I gotta tell ya,” Tim said as he dropped his tool bags on the floor, “this might be the best job we’ve done yet. The doughnuts yesterday were something. You think she’s gonna keep bakin’ for us?” Tim’s jaw dropped in disbelief when he saw the muffins. “Look at that. Think anyone would mind if I took one home for my little girl? She’d get a kick out of that.”

Brice realized that Ava had made five times the number of muffins they needed for their small work crew. “Go for it.”

“Cool.” Tim grabbed a mammoth monster muffin and took a bite. “Mmm,” he said around a full mouth, as if surprised by how good it tasted.

Not that Brice was surprised by that. He flipped open his phone and dialed. While he waited for the call to connect, he took a muffin for Rex on the way out the back door. The sunshine felt hot and dry as he sat on the back step and unwrapped the muffin. The dog gobbled his muffin in three bites.

Ava picked up on the sixth ring. “Hi there. Is there a problem at the shop?”

Caller ID, he guessed. “A problem? You could say that.”

“What’s wrong? I was there and everything looked fine. Okay, it was like a total wreck, but it’s supposed to look like that, right?”

“Right. That wasn’t the kind of problem I meant.” He leaned back, resting his spine against the building. He wondered where she was. A lot of clanging sounded in the background. “You left a box of monsters behind. Why didn’t you stay and say hello?”

“I didn’t want to be in the way.”

“I hope you didn’t feel uncomfortable with me yesterday. You know I like you.”

“I’m trying to ignore that.”

“Is there any particular reason for that?”

“Well, you’re doing the renovation on my shop, for starters.”

“Good reason. Look, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Not around me. Not around my men. Not when it comes to the work we’re doing for you.”

“Sure, I know that.”

It didn’t seem as if she did. She sounded as vulnerable as she’d looked yesterday when she’d been talking about her baking. Okay, so maybe what he felt wasn’t a two-way street. “How about you and I agree to be friends. Would that make you more comfortable?”

“Friends? Uh, sure. Wait.” He could imagine her biting her bottom lip while she thought, the cute little furrow digging in between her eyes. “You mean like platonic friends.”

“I mean that whatever this is going on between us, let’s put in on hold until your renovation is done. That way you don’t have to come to your own shop before 6:45 a.m. just to avoid me.”

“I wasn’t necessarily avoiding you.” Ava knew her voice sounded thin and honest. She was no good at subterfuge of any kind. Another reason she’d never understood men who had hidden agendas. “You see, it’s not you. It’s me. All me.”

“You want to explain that?” he asked in that kind way he had, but he obviously didn’t understand.

There it was, doom, hovering right in front of her, and its name was Brice Donovan.

“It’s just that—” she blurted out, nearly losing hold of her grocery cart in the dairy aisle. “I have the worst luck dating. If there’s a loser anywhere near me, he’ll be the one I think is nice. I’m like a disaster magnet. That’s why I have a policy.”

“What policy? I don’t understand.”

She felt her heart weakening. She liked this man—and wasn’t that the exact problem? She had to be totally tough. Cool. Focused. Strong. That’s what she had to be. Strong enough to stick to her guns. “It’s an ironclad, nonnegotiable no-man, no-dating policy.”

“That’s a pretty strict policy. There’s a good reason for it, huh?”

Her throat tightened. When she spoke, she knew she sounded as if she were struggling. “Yeah. Nothing horrible, just disappointing. I don’t want to spend my life believing in a man’s goodness and being blind to any terrible faults that I just can’t see until it’s too late. You see, it’s like being color-blind. I’m just…” She didn’t know what to say.

Apparently Brice didn’t either. No sound came from his end of the connection. Nothing at all.

“I’m sorry.” That came out strangled sounding.

So she was never going to be a tough business woman. She wasn’t a tough anything. Sadness hit her like the cold from the refrigerated dairy case. Was she disappointed?

Surprisingly, yes.

“Okay, then. I’ll call you if we have any questions over here.” He broke the silence, sounding business as usual, but beneath, she thought she heard disappointment, too.

Maybe it was best not to think about that, she thought as she closed her phone, dumped it into her bag and put the milk jug into her cart. She couldn’t say why she would be feeling deflated, because she did the right thing by putting him off. She just had to stay focused on her goals and her path in life, she thought as she grabbed a carton of whipping cream.

Her phone rang again and she went fishing for it in her messy tote. Luckily it was still ringing when she found it. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen. “Hello?”

“Uh, yes,” came a refined woman’s voice. “My name is Maxime Frost and I was at Chloe Donovan’s wedding. Brice highly recommended you, and I just had to call. We simply must have one of your cakes for my Carly’s wedding.”

“I’m sure I can design something both you and Carly will love.”

She wrote down an appointment time on the inside of her checkbook and ended the call. How about that? Brice had recommended her in spite of the mistaken identity incident.

Just when she thought she was sure she’d made the right decision to stick to her no-date policy, look what happened. He made her start wishing all over again—and reconsidering.

Chapter Six

Everyone was at the restaurant by the time she got there, seated in a big table at the back, between a cozy intersection of booths. Of course, she was late because she was time-challenged. From the head of the table, Spence spotted her first and his dour frown darkened a notch. He highly prized timeliness. Katherine sat between him and her fiancé, Jack Munroe. Seated next to her dad, the teenaged Hayden gave a finger wave.

Ava lifted her hand to finger wave back but the sight of the appetizers in platters placed in three parts of the table stopped her in her tracks. “I can’t believe you ordered without me.”

“You’re twenty minutes late.” Spence huffed. “The assistant manager wasn’t going to hold the reservation just for you.”

Personally, this was why she thought Spence wasn’t married, but now was probably not the time to mention it. “Oops. Sorry.” She didn’t bother to explain the extra appointment she squeezed in, and that she’d left a message on Aubrey’s phone that she’d be late, and there had been a major traffic snarl from some wild moose who was wandering Glenrose Street. It was easier to endure Spence’s scowl.

She dropped into the empty seat next to her twin. “Do you check your messages?”

“I was out at the studio and lost track of time. I barely got here myself.” Aubrey grabbed the platter in front of her and began sliding a stack of deep-fried zucchini slices onto Ava’s plate. “Don’t worry about Spence. It’s that assistant manager who works here. The one that had that date with Katherine long ago and it didn’t go well? He’s always snippy with us. The construction—”

“Is going well.” Ava paused to bow her head and gave a quick grace, since she’d missed Spence’s blessing.

Aubrey spooned a heap of creamy dip next to the zucchini slices on Ava’s plate. “And how’s Brice?”

“Fine, I guess. I didn’t see him today.”

“And that wouldn’t be because you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” It wasn’t true but she wanted it to be. “Fine, I just avoided him for the day. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“He’s supposed to be this great guy. Wasn’t he this year’s most eligible bachelor or something?”

“Let’s not talk about him.” She glanced around the table to see if everyone was straining to listen. They were. “Later, okay?”

Katherine spoke up. “Didn’t you do a wedding cake for Brice’s sister?”

“Yeah. Just.” Like she wanted to talk about it? This was the downside of being in a big family. Nothing was secret for long. “He’s the contractor doing the renovation.”

Spence leaned in. “You mean it’s his company doing the renovation. He’s not doing the actual work. He’s an owner.”

“No, he’s like the on-site manager guy. Trust me, he had a hammer and everything.” She hedged because everyone in her family but Aubrey was way too eager to marry her off. “Chloe recommended the company.”

It didn’t look like anyone at the table was fooled by that.

Katherine passed her hunky fiancé a platter of mozzarella sticks. “I thought Brice Donovan was engaged.”

“No,” Aubrey dragged a zucchini slice through a puddle of dip. “I read in the paper over a year ago that she called it off. The wedding was cancelled something like two days before it was supposed to happen. That had to be very hard for both of them.”

Ava couldn’t seem to swallow. The part of her that was afraid of getting close to him wanted to use this new piece of news as a reason to keep away from him. He’d already had one failed relationship. He was probably at fault, and she didn’t need some flawed guy, right? On the surface, it sounded like the best reasoning.

But she knew it wasn’t. Brice was a good guy—that much was clear. The real question was, how far down did that kindness go? Was it superficial, or the real thing?

The cracked pieces of her heart ached with a wish she couldn’t let herself voice. Brice had a lot of redeeming qualities, so what? She had to resist. What she had to do was clear every thought of him from her mind. His every image from her memory. No more thoughts of Brice Donovan allowed.

“Good evening, McKaslin family,” said a familiar voice behind her. Brice’s voice.

Of course.

Why did it have to be him? She felt as if she’d been hit with the debris from a fast approaching tornado. She couldn’t outrun it, escape it and there was no hope of avoiding it as Brice Donovan stepped into sight.

To her surprise her brother stood, nodding a greeting. “Good to see you again, Brice. Would you care to join us, or are you here with your family?”

“With family. It’s my mother’s birthday, but thanks for the invite. I just spotted Ava and I thought I’d come over. Let her know a few things about the job today, if she’s got time before her meal arrives.”

Ava could feel the power of his presence, stronger than the earth’s gravity holding her feet to the floor. “Do I have time?” she asked her twin.

“I ordered for you,” Aubrey explained. “Take your phone and you two go talk. I’ll call you when the meal arrives.”

Okay, it sounded like a good plan, but there was a downside here—did she want to be alone with Brice? No. Was she mentally prepared to be alone with him? Not a chance.

She grabbed her plate and her phone and followed him to the more casual patio area, where there were plenty of tables available. Brice nodded toward one of the waiters, who gestured to a set of unoccupied tables along the railing.

“I was hoping to catch you tomorrow morning.” Brice was entirely too close as he leaned to pull out a chair for her. “But seeing you charge through the restaurant a few minutes ago seemed like a sign. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

“Nope.” What she minded was being alone with him. How was she going to hold on to her policy now? She caught a hint of his spicy aftershave. “After all, we’ve agreed to be friends.”

“Exactly.” He smiled his killer smile, the one with the dimples.

Did he know what that did to a woman? It made every innocent, friendly thought vanish and the ones about sweet romance and marriage proposals surge forth like a hurricane hitting shore. That part of her, which always panicked when she got too close to anyone new, started to tremble.

There was no need to panic. This was only business, right? Except as he helped her scootch her chair up to the table, it definitely didn’t feel friendly.

He took the chair across the table from her, and a girl might think that would be safer, with the span of the table between them, but somehow he seemed closer. Much too close.

Don’t wish, she reminded herself and bit into a zucchini slice. “If it’s bad news about the renovation, you can’t just spring it on me. It’s best to work up to it. Want some?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a coated, deep-fried slice and crunched into it. “I have some suggestions for changes for the finished woodwork. What Rafe drew up for you is nice, but it’s plain.”

“It’s what I can afford.”

“You can afford this, too.” He took another slice. His manner was casual, his overall tone was friendly, but there was something intense beneath the surface, something that hadn’t been there before. “I think you’ll be happier with it. It won’t add any time if I get started now. I mostly do the jobs with custom woodwork.”

“I’m still trying to picture that. I know, I’ve seen you with a tool belt, but it doesn’t still compute.” She said this without thinking and watched his face harden. Not in a mean way, but guarded, like she’d struck a sore spot. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot of integrity working to perfect a craft and doing your best. It’s how I justify my baking. But I look at you and think, white-collar professional.”

“It’s a big issue in my family right now. My mom and dad have always just assumed I’d step into place at the family business and take over the firm when Dad’s ready to retire. And he’s starting to think about it, so they’re starting to get serious.”

“Aren’t they supportive of what you’re doing now?”

“They’re tolerating it.”

“I can’t imagine that.” Ava dragged a zucchini slice through the dip and bit into it. “My family is everything to me. I would be nothing without them.”

“You seem tight with your sisters.”

“Yeah. I’d never be able to open my own bakery without my family’s help. I got my business loan from my grandmother—talk about fear of failure. I don’t want to let her down. And Spence helped me with my business plan and buying the property. My sisters are helping me with the finishing stuff. Katherine took me to all the flea markets and swap meets and secondhand stores in the state, I think, and we got a bunch of bistro tables and chairs that Aubrey is refinishing for me in her studio. My stepsister Danielle has promised to make the window blinds and valences. That kind of thing. And that’s not including the pep talks when I need them.”

“So, they’ve got a lot of confidence in you. It must be nice to have the people you love most wanting what will make you happy.”

“It is.” Ava’s eyes shone with emotion and she dunked her zucchini into the dip. “It’s also a lot of people to disappoint. Something I could never stand to do.”

He could see that about her. Brice’s throat tightened. “I can’t stand how much this has upset my parents either. It’s been a huge strain on our relationship.”

“They want the best for you, though?”

He could see from the hopeful trust in her eyes that she didn’t understand. “They do. I know they love me, but the truth is, I’m not what they hoped for in a son. I wrestled with it for a long time. I tried things their way, but I’m not cut out for spending a day in an office, investing other people’s money. I like the work I do, but they see it as too blue collar.”

“And that would be wrong because…?”

He swallowed his embarrassment over his parents. They were too set in their ways and opinions to change. He tried to dismiss the pain behind it, and the weight of his father’s disappointments. His father who was a good, loving dad. Love and family were always complicated. “Dad thinks I’m not going to be happy unless I have a white-collar career, but I think it’s the appearance thing. They care too much what other people think.”

“It’s hard to know other people think you’re a dope or a loser. It has happened to me too many times to count. I’ve become sort of numb to it.”

He choked down a hoot of laughter. She said it with a twinkle in her eyes. She always surprised him. “Exactly. I’ve become a little numb on this subject, where my parents are concerned. My mom is still holding out hope I’ll come to my senses and go to law school or medical school. Or into the seminary.”

“I can’t picture you doing any of that. I’m sure you’d be good at any profession you chose, but you can only be yourself. Who God meant you to be.” She lowered her gaze and stared hard at the table’s surface between them. “At least, that’s what my older sister keeps telling me.”

“She’s right.”

He considered the woman across from him, with her blond hair windblown and going every which way. She was lovelier every time he saw her. Today her cheeks were slightly flushed from what he guessed to be a busy day. She had that breathless look about her. Her words had been rolling around in his head all day. It’s an ironclad, nonnegotiable no-man, no-dating policy.

He couldn’t give up hope completely. Business first. And when the renovation was done, then he’d see where he stood with her.

At that exact moment her cell rang. She checked it and turned it off. “It’s Aubrey. Food’s served. I’m sorry, but I’m starving.”

He stood to help her with her chair. “You’ll stop by tomorrow when I’m there so I can show you what I have in mind?”

“I can do that.”

“No more drive-by bakings?”

“Now, I can’t promise that.” She swished away.

She was so small and fragile, so whimsical and feminine, that a vibrant, steel-like emotion came to life in his heart, overtaking him. He watched her go with a mix of care and affection. He really liked her.

She stopped at the end of the row of tables. “Oh, I forgot to ask about the muffins. Did the men like them?”

“The monsters were the hit of the day.”

She flashed him her brightest smile, the one that showed her dazzling spirit. The one that caught his heart like a hook on a line and dug deep. The hook did not leave as she walked away with her gait snapping and her golden hair swaying across her back. Even when she was out of his sight it remained, inexplicably.

* * *

Without Brice Donovan anywhere around, it was like a thousand times easier to remember her policy. Later that day, Ava jammed her Bible study materials into her tote and heaved it off the floor. The classroom in the church’s auxiliary building was pleasant and serene, but then she always felt peaceful after spending an hour in fellowship, studying her Bible. She was focused and calm and everything seemed clear.

Aubrey fell in beside her and they trailed the small crowd filing out the door. “I’m in the mood for chocolate. Want to stop by the ice creamery and pig out on sundaes?”

“Like I would ever think that was a bad idea.” Really. Did Aubrey even have to ask? She staggered under the weight of her mammoth bag. She was really going to have to find the time to go through it and clean it out—not that she was skilled at stuff like that. “I need sustenance if I’m going to be able to face my day tomorrow. It’s jam-packed.”

“You remembered we were going to babysit for Danielle, right?” Aubrey waited a beat before rolling her eyes. Their stepsister was happily married with two great kids. “It’s okay. Don’t even bother. I’ll babysit and you’ll do it next Friday. I’ve got that church retreat thing. So, tomorrow’s packed?”

“It’s just that I got this referral from Chloe’s wedding. It was Brice, really—”

“Ex-boyfriend alert,” Aubrey cut in, although by the interested lift of her eyebrows she’d caught the Brice reference. “It’s Mike, directly ahead, in the hall.”

They were still safely stuck in the doorway of the classroom, in a small queue, but she was definitely visible. Ava could feel his smug gaze sweeping over her. She didn’t have to look to know he had some poor clueless woman hanging on his arm. Two years ago, she’d been there, believing the stories he told about what a moral Christian guy he was on the surface.

Unfortunately, his supposed values were pure fabrication, and every time she spotted him she felt beyond foolish. Yep, even years later, her nose was turning glowing strawberry red again. Why couldn’t she have noticed right away that he wasn’t what he seemed? It was her fault-blindness. She just couldn’t see the big glaring signs of trouble that other people could.

“That poor woman,” Aubrey said with sympathy and kindness. Good, gentle Aubrey never made a fool of herself and never made any mistakes at all, much less mistakes of gargantuan proportion. “I’m going to add both of them to my prayers. She’s bound to be heartbroken one day.”

Just like I was. Ava could still feel the crack in her heart from him. “I’ll pray for her, too.”

She purposely didn’t look ahead down the hall, so she wouldn’t have to see him. Or to remember she’d really fallen hard for Mike. Discovering who he really was had been tough.

“And there’s Ken.” Aubrey grabbed Ava’s wrist and steered her toward the far wall. “No, don’t look up.”

Great. Ken was probably with someone, too. He’d been the chef who, on the third date, said he’d waited long enough and tried to take liberties. She’d accidentally broken two fingers on his right hand when she’d bolted from the passenger seat of his car and slammed his hand in the door.

Really, did she look like the kind of girl who said one thing and did another?

No—it was some men. See? It went right back to them. They needed to think faithful, pious thoughts. Study their Bibles even more. She was really starting to get disillusioned about men. All men.

What about Brice? a little voice asked—a voice that seemed to come straight from her heart.

What about him? So, he’d been a gentleman so far, but wasn’t that the problem? How deep did the gentleman thing go? She’d been fooled too many times by how a man seemed. So, he was Mr. Eligible Bachelor. Did that mean he was really good at fooling others? Or was he truly a good man, soul deep?

Well, if she was interested in him, maybe that was a sign right there. Ken and Mike were excellent examples of her flaw-blindness. What if she was doing the same exact thing with Brice? If the man was interested in her, as time had proved over and over again, there had to be something wrong with him.

It was as simple as that. And if the tiny hope in her heart wished for more, that he truly was what he seemed, did she risk finding out? Face it, she didn’t have Aubrey’s quiet beauty or her sister Katherine’s classic poise. She’d driven her own mother away.

Don’t think about that. She squeezed the pain from her heart. Erased the thought from her mind. Purposefully turned her thoughts from her failures and to her business. Her shop. She had more sketching to do tonight when they got home. And breakfast treats to bake for the construction dudes.

Maybe she’d do a batch of scones. She’d lose herself in the kitchen. Baking always made everything right. Baking made her problems and failures turn from shouts into silence.

There would be no dreaming. She’d lost too many dreams to waste them on what could never truly be. Brice had given her the perfect solution. He’d said he was happy to be friends. He didn’t want anything to complicate their business relationship, and she was going to hold him to it, whether her heart liked it or not.

Pleased with that plan, she led Aubrey out of the church hall and through the parking lot, beeped the SUV unlocked and headed straight to the ice creamery.

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.

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