Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1) (26 page)

“A bottle of water would be nice.”

He purchased a bottle of water for her and a cold soda for himself. They silently strolled down the path. He gestured toward the gazebo. “Would you like to sit over there?”

“That’s fine.”

Once they were seated, and had opened their beverages, Martin took a long soothing drink from his soda bottle. He removed his tie, saying a silent prayer to God, hoping the Holy Spirit would allow him to say the right words. “It’s hot out here today. Did you want to go someplace else to talk?”

She shook her head, sipping her water. “No, this is fine.” Sweat beaded on her upper lip, and she wiped the moisture away.

“I guess Myra told Raven about our dinner meeting last week?”

“Yes, she did. I feel so bad.”

“Why?” He ached to hold her, but he didn’t want to do anything to make her more apprehensive. It was a major feat getting her to talk to him in the first place.

She opened her mouth, closed it, before removing her dark glasses and looking into his eyes. “This is so hard for me.”

“What is?”

She gripped her water, as if she were afraid the bottle would go spinning out of her hands. “Hurting my sister. Martin, I love her. Over the years, we’ve fought, we’ve made up, we’ve disagreed.” She bit her lower lip and looked away. A tear ran down her face and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. He again resisted the urge to hold her in his arms. She turned toward him again. “But,” her voice wobbled as she spoke. “But, Raven’s never hit me before and this is the first time she’s ever said she’d never speak to me again. It was hard hearing her say that.”

“Honey, she’ll come around.”

“Martin, we can’t be together.”

“Why not? I love you.”

She stiffened, scooted away. “You can’t mean that. We haven’t known each other very long.”

He vehemently shook his head. He’d known Rhea long enough to know that he loved her. Her kind heart, gentle spirit, caring nature, and her devotion to her late husband all came into his mind…he had to find a way to make her understand that he really did love her. “That doesn’t matter. I know I love you.”

Her caramel-colored eyes filled with sadness. “I’ve been having dreams.” She changed the subject, and he wondered if she hadn’t taken his proclamation of love seriously.

“Dreams about what?”

“About Stan.”

Martin felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Why was she mentioning Stan now? He knew she loved her husband, probably still thought about him every day, but…this conversation was about
them
, him and Rhea. He loved that she’d been devoted to Stan, but, didn’t understand why Stan, and her sister, could dictate whom Rhea could love. He gritted his teeth. “What happens in these dreams?”

She looked toward the ground. “I can’t be too sure. It’s hard for me to remember all of the details. I just remember Stan being there and we’re together, serving the congregation.” She looked into his eyes. “Sometimes, he tells me how much he loves me, and that he doesn’t know what he’d ever do without me.”

Martin crushed his soda can. A bird chanted in a nearby oak tree and a light breeze blew. When he remained silent, she placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Martin, but I don’t think us dating would be a good idea. I’m not sure if I could ever accept another pastor into my life. Even if Raven accepts us, I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to date a pastor.”

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“But it’s how I feel. I think with my dreaming about Stan, and Raven’s dramatic reaction to our relationship, I feel that the Lord is trying to tell me that you’re not the right man to have in my life.”

Tears came to his eyes, but pride intervened and he blinked the moisture away. No way would he let Rhea see how much her words hurt him. “You can’t mean that.” His voice sounded husky, and he swallowed, trying to calm himself down. “I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

She shook her head, her light brown hair swaying with the movement. “You don’t love me.”

“Rhea!”

“You don’t. You’re just confused.”

He gritted his teeth, silently praying. Hopefully, the Lord would intervene and diffuse his temper. “How are you going to tell me how I feel? I love you.”

“No. You. Don’t.” The silence surrounded them like the heat of the day.

He finally found his voice, still stunned about the way this conversation was turning out. “Why would you think that I’m confused?”

“Because, you told me about your two fiancées.”

“What about them?” he asked quietly.

“You told me you fell in love with them quickly, and that your love wasn’t returned.”

He bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And your point is?”

“My point is that if you’d waited and gotten to know them better before declaring your feelings, you might’ve realized you weren’t really in love but infatuated.”

He sighed, tossing his soda can into a nearby trash bin. “Honey, you’re way off base with that assessment. I was with my second fiancée for an entire year, and I loved her.”

“Well, you didn’t know the first one for very long,” she spat.

Words escaped him, and the weight of frustration he’d been feeling for the past week doubled, crushing him. Weariness flowed through his body. He needed a nap. Maybe sleep could help him escape from this awful nightmare. He stood and said nothing as he waited for Rhea to stand. He recalled Uncle Jesse’s advice, about his telling Rhea about his wild college years, and the mistakes he’d made. Visions of the baby crawled into his mind, but he shook his head, not in the mood to reveal his soul to Rhea Morrison.

Remaining silent, he drove her apartment. He was about to get out of the car so that he could open her door for her, but, she moved too quickly. He studied her while she rushed out of his car, slammed the door, and walked up the steps of her apartment building.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Altar call! Anybody with prayer needs, please step forward!” Sitting on the platform, along with his dad, Martin paid attention to Michael Tucker as Michael raised his hands, beckoning parishioners. Sweat rolled down his brow, and he wiped the moisture away with a white handkerchief.

Worshipers packed the sanctuary like canned sardines. Pastor Frank sat in the front of the church, and the media stood in the back. News cameras and reporters were in the foyer, waiting to interview Pastor Frank. Even though the church had not advertised Pastor Frank’s visit, the church members had told friends, family members, newscasters.

Martin swallowed, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. He stared at Pastor Frank, still stunned that this famous man was in his church, openly giving an endorsement to his opponent. The heavy-set, bearded pastor smiled, his eyes shining with pride while he’d listened to Michael Tucker preach.

The pianist banged the keys, filling the sanctuary with holy music. As church members filed to the stage, Michael repeated. “Anybody wanting to accept God’s gift of salvation please come forward!” His dark eyes brightened as he gazed at the audience. “I know there are those out there who are afraid to come, but, the Lord wants you to know that He’s your friend forever!”

The music continued, and Martin focused on several members of his father’s church walking to the altar. People wiped away tears, staring at the ceiling, calling on the name of the Lord. As praises filled the sanctuary, Michael spoke to all who’d come to the stage. “Before we take special prayer requests, I want all of you to pray with me, the way the Lord taught us to.” He bowed his head, his strong voice lifting up to Jesus, leading the congregation.

“‘Our Father, who art in heaven…’”

With his head bowed, Martin barely listened to the Lord’s Prayer as he grappled with the fact that Michael Tucker was an excellent pastor, one who could easily take over this church. The invigorating aura filled the sanctuary, and Martin was sure Jesus was smiling down on this congregation as they praised His Holy Name.

Lord, this church has just witnessed a wonderful service given by Michael Tucker. In spite of the holiness of this church, my heart is heavy with dread, Lord. Are you calling me to lead my father’s congregation, or do you want me to go elsewhere when I graduate from divinity school?

He mentally sighed, ending his prayer. What a sermon! It wouldn’t surprise him if Michael Tucker were voted in as lead pastor in August. Martin shook his head, his heart burdening further, thinking about Rhea.

His dad touched his arm after the prayer was over. “Are you okay?”

“No.” His voice, barely above a whisper, slightly wavered. Tears gathered in his eyes for the second time that day, but he blinked the moisture away, not wanting the congregation to know about his state of mind. Linda sat in the front pew. She wore a yellow dress, and her small eyes shined with delight as she gazed at her grandnephew.

Martin sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

These thoughts scattered through his brain like twirling dandelion seeds on the wind as Michael and the ushers spoke quietly with those who had come forward.
Lord, should I begin searching for a new church so that I can serve You, pastoring to others?

Chapter Twenty-five

If Martin crossed her mind one more time, Rhea knew she’d scream. Since their meeting in the park, his image had popped into her head, making her second-guess her decision to push him out of her life.

His proclamation of love played through her mind like a non-stop movie as Rhea locked her bakery and checked the clock—ten thirty.

So, did Martin
really
love her?

Outside, a few people lingered after the Fourth of July fireworks. She’d stayed open late to take advantage of the holiday crowds.

Her friend Taylor sat at one of the indoor tables, sipping a cup of coffee, taking her last bite of Rhea’s special red, white, and blue cake. “Rhea, that’s the best dessert I’ve had a in a long time.”

Rhea smiled, dropping into a chair beside Taylor, struggling to keep her eyes open. Candy sat in the office, going over the day’s receipts. Rhea figured she’d made more money today than she’d made at her grand opening. “Thanks, Taylor. Lots of people said they liked that I used fresh strawberries and blueberries in the batter.”

“It’s so pretty, too. I love seeing each layer a different color.” Taylor gave Rhea a sly look. “Did Martin show you this recipe?”

Rhea shook her head, looking away from her friend. “No...it’s my own.”

Taylor grabbed Rhea’s hand, squeezed her fingers. “Girl, what’s wrong? I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, watching you. You look tired, frazzled, and barely able to hold yourself together.”

Rhea sighed. Should she tell Taylor about her last meeting with Martin? “Martin told me he loves me, Taylor.” She took a deep breath, told Taylor about the conversation she’d had with Martin earlier that week at Monroe Park.

“You told him he was confused?” Taylor’s loud voice echoed in the bakery. “Rhea, how could you do that? Grow up and stop wallowing in your grief.”

Rhea winced. “But Taylor—”

Taylor pushed her empty coffee cup away. “If you love Martin—you need to let him know before it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like Martin is quite a catch—plus, he’s the pastor of a church. He’ll find himself somebody else and you’ll be beating yourself up over it. How would you feel if you saw Martin kissing another woman?”

Rhea closed her eyes, grappling with her thoughts, imagining Martin locking lips with a stranger. Red-hot jealousy flowed through her, just thinking about it.

“Uh, huh,” Taylor grunted. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’d be mad.”

“Oh, Taylor…”

“Rhea!” Candy ran from the office toward Rhea and Taylor, holding a sheet of paper.

Rhea raised her eyebrows. Why was Candy so excited? “You’re finished counting the receipts already?”

Candy shook her head. “No. I wanted to show you this order that just came through our website.” She shoved the paper into Rhea’s hand. “I know you’ve been moping around since the two of you stopped speaking. Maybe he’s using this as an excuse to see you again.”

Rhea scanned the page, gasping when she saw it was from Martin. Why would he be contacting her through her website? After her rejection, she figured he never wanted to see her again. A shred of hope filled her soul while she looked down at the paper.

Taylor cleared her throat. “What does it say?”

Rhea eyed her best friend, her heart thumping. “Martin ordered three-dozen mini cupcakes. He wants me to deliver them to him at the Maple Grove Mall tomorrow night, near the west entrance.”

Candy grinned. “I figured you two might’ve had a fight. Now you can kiss and make up.” She strutted back into the office.

“Rhea, I agree with Candy. Now you and Martin can mend your differences. He probably placed that order as an excuse to see you.”

Rhea caressed the paper, sighing. “I guess so.” Embarrassment filled her soul. Had she really made a bad decision as Taylor had implied? Was there a chance for her to be happily dating a preacher?

“I hope you’re not still upset because your sister’s acting like some juvenile delinquent.”

“You’re talking about her slapping me?”

She nodded. “Yes. I hope your sister’s anger is not keeping you from dating Martin. Raven’s got her own set of problems – she needs to handle her issues and not interfere with your love life. Know what I mean?”

A loud honking horn interrupted their conversation. Rhea and Taylor walked over to the door, and Candy came from the office. “Who’s out there?” asked Candy.

A cherry red sports car with tinted windows pulled to the curb and parked. The street lights shone on a tall muscular mocha-skinned man who exited the vehicle, waving at the women. Stunned, Rhea stared. Why was this stranger waving at them? He strolled to the passenger side of the vehicle and assisted Raven out of the car.

Raven! Why would she visit? Rhea’s heart ached ever since Raven declared they’d never speak again. So, was she here to make the first move?

She hobbled on her crutches to the door of the bakery, her companion following close behind. Her lips sported a splash of red lipstick, and her tawny brown skin was darker, as if she’d spent some time in the sun.

Rhea unlocked the door and Raven hobbled inside, her good-looking date close behind her. Raven grinned, nodding toward her companion. “This is Adam.”

Adam smiled, showing gleaming white teeth and twin dimples. Rhea didn’t know what to say. Did this visit indicate that her sister was no longer mad at her?

“Adam this is my twin sister Rhea…” She paused, glared briefly at Taylor before introducing her. “This is Taylor…” She then waved toward Candy. “And that’s Rhea’s assistant, Candy.”

Taylor dipped her head, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Adam.” She smirked, pulling her purse from the back of the chair. “Rhea, I have to leave now. I’ll call you later.” Taylor strolled through the doorway, the bell dinging overhead when she left.

Rhea grappled with her thoughts while Adam shook her hand. Who was this striking man, and how long had Raven known him?

Adam released Rhea’s hand before pulling Raven into his muscular arms, and they kissed. Their lips were locked for several seconds before they broke their kiss. “What time should I pick you up, Hon?” Adam asked, stroking her chin. His dark eyes sparkled with warmth and affection as he gazed at Raven.

“Do you have your cell phone with you? I’ll give you a call when I’m finished.”

“Okay.” He kissed her again before he waved at Rhea and Candy before leaving the bakery. He revved the engine of his car and drove away.

Candy grinned, watching Adam’s car disappear around the corner. “Wow, that’s one good-looking man.” She turned to Raven. “So, he’s your new boyfriend?”

Raven grunted. “I don’t want to talk about Adam now. I needed to speak with my sister alone, please.”

“Okay,” Candy huffed. “I was just asking a question.” She returned to the office, slamming the door behind her.

Rhea blinked. She needed to calm down. Was this Raven’s new boyfriend? Two weeks ago, Raven had been crying over Martin and not taking care of herself, and now she was kissing a man who looked like a male model?

“Raven, are you okay?”

Her sister’s eyes snapped with anger. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Well, you were acting so weird when I saw you a few weeks ago. You never explained why you didn’t want me to contact you.” Had Raven ever had a crush on Martin, or was there something else wrong with her?

She raised her eyebrows. “What’s your point?”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.” How many times did she need to ask this? “How did you meet Adam?”

“At the doctor’s office.”

“Oh?” She waited, but Raven didn’t give other details.

“So, you were going to your doctor for a checkup, to see how you’re healing from your accident and Adam was a patient there, too?”

“I’m not talking about my medical doctor. I’m talking about my psychiatrist.”

“Psychiatrist?” She needed to sit down for this. She plopped into a chair, trying to digest this news. Raven hobbled over to a chair and sat beside her.

Had Raven started seeing a psychiatrist when she’d told Rhea not to contact her? Her sister looked away, outside, toward the sidewalk. If she started asking her questions about therapy, she might clam up, not divulge any new information. Maybe it was best to ask about Adam. “So, Adam is your new boyfriend?”

“No, not really. I’m not really sure how I feel about him.”

Not sure? The way she’d been kissing him…Raven still sounded like she needed help, but, the fact that she was in therapy was a relief. At least she was getting help for her issues. “If you don’t know how you feel about him, then, why are you with him? I mean, you were kissing him and everything…”

Her head snapped back up, and she glared at Rhea. “Because he makes me feel good about myself, okay? He looks good, too. The few times we’ve been out, I’ve seen the looks of envy on other women’s faces when they see me with him.”

Rhea leaned toward her twin. “If Adam really likes you, then you need to tell him the truth—it sounds like you’re using him.”

Raven groaned. “I’m
not
using him. Finding out that Martin didn’t want me was disappointing. I felt like Martin’s rejection created a hole in my heart—being with Adam fills that hole. He makes me feel like I’m no longer empty.”

It was such a shame the way Raven spoke of her relationship with Adam, but she didn’t want to further alienate Raven by reprimanding her about the nature of her relationship with him. “Where did Adam go?”

Raven shrugged. “Oh, no place in particular. He’s got some stuff he needs to do.”

“This late at night?”

Raven’s mouth dropped open. “Rhea, you’re being dense again. He left me here, alone, because I asked him to.” She looked away, scratching the back of her neck. “I needed to talk to you.”

Rhea stood and gripped the back of a nearby chair, struggling to control her sudden anger. “I hate it when you do that.”

Raven looked at Rhea. “Do what?”

“Call me dense. I’m not dense. How was I supposed to know that he planned on leaving you here to talk to me? I wasn’t there when the two of you decided to do this.”

Raven looked away, mumbling something under her breath.

Rhea pulled up a chair, sat beside her sister. “What did you say?”

“I said I was sorry.”

They really needed to clear the air. She had to get to the bottom of Raven’s anger against her. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for calling you dense,” she mumbled, staring at her folded hands.

“Raven, look at me.”

Raven finally lifted her head, looked directly at Rhea. “If you’re sorry, I want you to look directly at me when you say it.”

Raven huffed, before speaking again. “I’m sorry for calling you dense, Rhea.”

Rhea slowly nodded. “Apology accepted.” Rhea chose her next words carefully. “Why are you always so angry with me?”

Raven frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You insult me for no reason. Why?”

Raven shrugged. “I don’t think I insult you.”

“Well, you might not realize you’re doing it, but you do. You make snide comments about my weight gain, you insult me for not dating, you badger me about my grieving for Stan…if I question you about something, you say I’m dense.” She thought about her conversation with Mary. Was there some truth to what Mary said? Was Raven jealous of her? “Why do you say those things to me?”

Raven stared at the table, blinking. She remained silent for so long that Rhea wondered if she’d ever answer the question. Finally, “You just think you’re so perfect all the time,” she mumbled.

Shocked, Rhea sat up in her chair. “What?”

“You think you’re so perfect. You married a perfect preacher husband. You have your perfect little Christian ways. You have your dream business, running this bakery. Everything about you is perfection…” she paused, licked her lips. “…and then when I meet Martin, a kind, good-looking man who I fantasized about having a relationship with, he ends up with you, and that’s just another item on your little perfection list.” Raven’s voice turned hard and emotional. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and Rhea pressed a napkin into her hand.

“I never thought I was perfect. I’ve never said that about myself.”

“Well, when we were teenagers, Mom and Dad said it enough,” she spat. “So, I’d imagine that’s what you think of yourself.” She sniffed, drying her tears. “When I say those things to you, it’s to remind you that you’re not so perfect after all.”

“I’m sorry that Mom and Dad saying those things hurt you. But I don’t think I’m perfect at all. My life is a mess.”

Raven frowned. “Why is your life a mess?”

“Before you loaned me that money, I was about to lose my business. I’m about to get kicked out of my apartment. I worry about people all the time. I worry about you.”

Raven’s eyes widened. “You worry about me?”

“The cancer coming back, the thought scares the crap out of me, Raven.” There, she’d said it. They never openly talked about her sister’s illness. It was kind of an unspoken rule since childhood – coddle Raven, don’t hurt her, she’d been hurt enough. Although that plan of action backfired, Rhea still had a niggling fear in the back of her mind, hoping Raven’s cancer remained in remission. “Is that why you saw a psychiatrist? Are you having a hard time dealing with your fear of getting sick again?”