by Jillian Hart
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 hard-working 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 could 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 work day, 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 won’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, bo
uncing, 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 work table 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 iron-clad, non-negotiable 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 colorblind. 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?”