Every Kind of Heaven (7 page)

“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 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.

B
rice 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 beat 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 non-existent 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 work table.”

“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 sprung 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 mornings 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 Darren 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 showed 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.”

“Business-wise, 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 smidgeon. 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.”