Every Kind of Heaven (13 page)

He opened the door and waited while Rex leaped out. “I'm bringing Ava to my birthday dinner, and she's bringing the cake. You're going to be nice to her, right?”

There was silence. Frosty silence.

This was actually going better than he'd expected. That had to be a good sign, right? He unlocked the inside door and held it for Rex, who was yawning hugely and lumbered lazily inside. “Mom?”

“I'm carefully weighing my words and there doesn't appear to be anything I can say that you would deem appropriate.”

“You have until Tuesday to work on that.” He
stepped around Rex who had collapsed in front of the nearest floor vent and opened the refrigerator. “I'm going to expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“She's all wrong for you, you know that.”

“It's not your decision who I date, Mom. Ava's important to me, and I want your word you'll be nice to her.”

“I suppose I can try.”

“Thank you. I'll call you and Dad later, okay? I've got her on the other line, so I need to go.” He said goodbye, and he couldn't say exactly why there was a terrible sense of foreboding that settled dead center in his gut. He switched over to the waiting call. “Ava?”

“Yo. Danielle just walked in. She's taking the measurements for the shades she's making me. Hold on just a sec.” There was a lot of cheerful talk in the background that grew fainter. “Brice? I've got a full house here. Spence just pulled up with the tables Aubrey refinished for me.”

“Sounds exciting. I bet the place is looking more like you imagined.”

“It is. I'm going to be officially open for business this weekend. There's a ton of stuff I still have do, and I'm totally excited
and
scared.”

“I can understand that.” Did he. “What can I do to help?”

“As if you haven't done enough with the woodwork. It still takes my breath away.”

“Good. That's the idea.”

Ava nearly stumbled at his words. Oh, she was so overwhelmed. So out of her realm of experience. Tender feelings for him just kept lifting through her, rising up until all she could feel was joy. Was it illusion? Could this possibly work out between them?

“I'll give you a call tomorrow,” he said in that dependable, easy-going way of his. “See if you need any help hauling anything or helping with the set up. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Ava leaned her forehead against the heel of her hand, listening to the click as he disconnected. Could this man be any more perfect?

It took her a second to realize that all the chatter in the front room had stopped. Her sisters were staring at her. Katherine's eyes were hopeful and sparkling. Aubrey looked as if she were going to start jumping up and down with glee.

This
was another problem with a big family. A girl had no privacy. Ever. Even when you were grown and gone from the nest, you could not get away from nosy sisters, bless them.

Danielle shifted little Madison on to her other hip. “Did we hear that correctly? Are you going to a family birthday party?”

“Oh, this is
big.
Huge,” Katherine added. “He's taking you home to meet his parents.”

“See? What did I say?” Aubrey steepled her hands, as if in prayer. “This is the next step.”

“Don't psych me out, I'm trying to cope here.” Ava spotted Spence and his big gray pickup parked against the curb. He was glaring in at them. “He obviously needs help. I'd better get out there—”

“Was it my imagination or did you tell Brice about the camping trip?” Katherine asked, using the box Aubrey brought to prop open the door. “And he
still
asked you out?”

“The story just popped out. It wasn't intentional.” Ava shrugged. “I guess that old family stuff has been on my mind lately.”

“I know how that goes, but you don't have to let the past affect your future. Good things happen to good people, and this is one of those times.” Katherine grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the counter. “Take my advice. Leave the past behind where it belongs, and go live your future. You can do that, right?”

“Sure.” Easier said than done. She didn't dare let herself believe it. Being with Brice was too important. She hoped that as long as she stayed right here, in this more-than-friends-only stage, then it wouldn't get serious. She wouldn't lose any more of her heart.

O
n Tuesday evening, as they headed up to Brice's parents' house in his red sports car, she felt as if they were driving heavenward. The foothills of the Bridger Mountains offered breathless views of the higher Rocky Mountain peaks and the deep, divine blue of the summer sky. As gorgeous as the view was, where were her eyes glued? On Brice, looking amazing in a black sports coat, shirt, tie and trousers.

Dazzled? Yeah, you could say that.

“We're almost there.” Brice drove with confidence on the smooth, S-curving road that skirted private developments more upscale than the one he lived in. “You look a little pale. Are you okay?”

Okay? If she could survive the panic attack, she'd be just fine, thanks. There was a perfectly rational explanation for the panic. This couldn't be real. It was too nice to be real. Too wonderful. She tried
to relax. Tried to pretend she wasn't terrified. She'd never felt like this, so vulnerable and so close to him.

Careful, Ava, she warned herself. Don't start to believe in the dream.

Brice pulled into a grand driveway that rivaled anything she'd seen on TV and that's when the nerves hit her. What had she been thinking? It was way too early in their relationship for her to meet his parents. Besides, she'd already met his mom. She'd been very dismissive of Chloe's choice of wedding cake designs.

“I don't suppose your mom is expecting a more fancy cake design?” She looked at the bakery box sitting on her lap.

“Does it matter?” He shrugged as if he couldn't imagine how she might even think it would.

Okay, maybe not. But as he pulled in front of a lavish Shakespearean-looking brick home with a turret and those diamond panel windows, she couldn't fight the strong feeling that her nifty dump truck cake might seem a little hokey by comparison. “You're sure about the cake?”

“Yep.” He didn't look like he had a doubt in the world.

Okey dokey. Maybe it wasn't the cake she was worried about. Maybe Brice's family would take one look at her and think, not right for him. She smoothed the linen skirt of the dress she'd borrowed from Aubrey.

Okay, really, it was just her old insecurities flaring up like a big case of emotional warts.

He smoothly parked the car in front of a four-car garage and cut the engine. “You haven't changed your mind about coming in with me, have you?”

“Let me get back to you on that.” Her voice wobbled.

“Don't be nervous. My family is going to love you.”

“And if they don't?”

“They will learn to love you.” He cupped her chin in his palm.

She focused her violet-blue gaze on his, her whole heart showing.

He got out of the car, noticing his grandparent's Land Rover was parked in the shade. Anticipation uplifted him as he circled around to open Ava's door. He couldn't wait for his grandparents to meet Ava. He knew they would love her. His parents might take more time to accept someone new, but he knew they would come to adore her, too. How could anyone not fall in love with Ava?

He took the boxed cake and offered his hand to help her from the low-slung car. The brush of her hand to his renewed him, more every time.

Having her at his side was like a gift. She swept beside him with that buoyant walk of hers. Everything about her was bubbly. This evening, she wore
a light purple summer dress that shimmered as soft as a dream. Matching lavender sandals clicked on the brick walk, echoing slightly in the balmy, quiet grounds. The purple gift bag she carried made a pleasant crinkling sound as she walked. Her hair was pulled back in one of those fancy braids and stayed in place thanks to a few little purple butterfly barrettes.

Cute. Whimsical. She was like a spring breeze and he could not get enough of her. Powerful affection filled him. He hesitated on the doorstep. “This is your last chance to bolt.”

“How did you know that had crossed my mind?” She winked, and looked even more sweet and adorable. “I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”

“Super-duper.” He said that to make her smile, and it worked. He opened the front door. “Hello? Anyone home?”

Their steps echoed in a mammoth marble foyer.

Ava looked around, a little afraid to step on the very expensive looking marble beneath her shoes. “Is this a house or a museum?”

“It always felt like a museum when I was growing up. Come all the way in. Don't worry. We don't charge admission. Not on Tuesdays, anyway.”

Her gaze went directly to an ornately framed watercolor, which was mounted on the wall directly ahead of her. It looked old. Ancient. Probably by some master—Aubrey would know which one. “That looks real.”

“Mom likes to hang her expensive pieces where she can impress everyone who walks through the door.”

“Me, too. We have a cross-stitch welcome sign hanging in our entry. Aubrey did it last winter. It's a total classic. We've had offers.”

What was it about her that made even visiting his mother fun? He set the cake on the antique table against the wall.

“Did you really grow up here?”

There was that little furrow between her eyes again, a sign she was puzzled. So, he hoped, did she see what he wanted her to see? Most people who walked through the door were impressed by Monet and the imported marble. There were no family pictures framed and hung on the walls. No cross-stitched sign welcoming guests. No hints of love or comfort anywhere.

A maid in a black uniform hurried discreetly toward them. “Master Brice. Happy birthday! Let me take your things. The family is in the rec room. Dinner will be served promptly at seven.”

“Thanks, Wilma. This is Ava. And here is the cake.”

“Oh, well done. I'll get this to the kitchen.” The tidy lady hurried off with efficient speed.

Ava knew she was gaping. Okay, call her intimidated now. What she had already seen of Brice's life was a neon sign they weren't compatible;
this
was a billboard framed in blinking red lights. “She took my purse and your gift.”

“She's supposed to.” Brice looked amused as he guided her through a cavernous formal living room filled with rich polished woods and upholstered velvet and toward a slowly downward winding staircase.

No way was this a
home.
It was too perfect to relax in, and there was no feeling of love or life. From the expensive imported carpets to the vase that looked like it came from ancient China. Where did his parents put up their feet at the end of a long day and watch television? And there wasn't a book anywhere. Not even a Bible. The rooms, stuffed with expensive furniture, felt vacant and hollow. There was no heart. No warmth.

This
was Brice's childhood home? No way could she imagine children growing up here. Well, not the way she would want to raise children, anyway. With noise and friendly chaos.

Their footsteps echoed in the coved ceilings overhead, just like they would in a museum.

“Everyone's downstairs.” Brice took her hand, his gaze and his touch were more than tender. It felt as if he cherished her. Being cherished by Brice Donovan was just about the best thing she could wish for, but with every step she took, she wondered how this could possibly last.

Voices grew in volume as they descended the grand staircase and arrived in a slightly less formal version of the living room. Four people rose from stiff, uncomfortable looking couches. Brice's par
ents and grandparents stopped in mid-conversation to stare at her.

During the few seconds of awkward silence, she felt Brice's hand tighten on hers. Tension rolled through her. The sudden silence felt uncomfortable. So did the hard way Brice's mother studied her.

Okay, she could see the mistake right away. She was wearing purple. Everyone else was dressed in sedate colors. Navy. Black. Beige. She stuck out like a grape Popsicle. Her dress wasn't floor length, her hair wasn't swept up and sedate. She wore her cross and not ten-thousand-dollar pearls—not that she had any or wanted to have any.

It was too late to rethink the wardrobe. The important question was whether Brice thought bringing her was a definite mistake?

“Everyone, this is Ava McKaslin,” he said in that warm baritone of his.

Since her knees were a little wobbly, she took care stepping forward so she didn't trip as Brice introduced her to his parents.

“It's good to meet you.” Brice's father, Roger, stuck out his hand.

She hoped her palm wasn't too damp. Oops. Nerves. She wanted her grip to be firm enough for him. She met his gaze, and she realized he had Brice's eyes. And they were warm and kind.

“I understand you designed our Chloe's wedding cake. That was beautiful. Everyone said so,” Roger
Donovan said stiffly, as if he were uncomfortable, too. “Chloe comes back from her honeymoon tomorrow. I'm sure she will tell you herself how happy she was with it.”

“Thanks. It's very nice to meet you.” Her voice hardly wobbled at all. Whew. That went pretty well. Considering.

“And this is my mom, Lynn. I know you've already met.”

Lynn Donovan nodded once, a curt bob that was barely an acknowledgement. “I understand you're designing Carly Frost's wedding cake. Maxime and her oldest daughter were just telling me today how pleased she is so far.”

“That's nice to hear. I'm glad they're happy.”

“Hmm.” The woman managed to make that sound seem judgmental, and said nothing more. She pursed her lips and stared hard at Ava, as if she didn't like what she was seeing.

Okay, this wasn't going as well. Ava took a rattling breath, feeling more and more unsure. Until Brice's hand engulfed hers, and his touch was a steady anchor of comfort and reassurance.

“Hello, to both of you.” His grandmother looked elegant in her designer pantsuit. She crossed the length of the room, arms out, and pulled him into a quick hug. “Happy birthday, young man.”

“I'm glad you could make it.” Brice kissed her cheek. “How was your flight home?”

“The usual. Lines. Customs. Only one lost piece
of luggage. An improvement from the trip over.” Merriment twinkled in her eyes and she grasped Ava by the hands. “Ava, dear girl, how is your grandmother? Mary and I have been playing phone tag for the last few months.”

“Gran is fine, or so I hear. I haven't spoken to her for the last few weeks, but she's scheduled to call soon. I'll tell her that you were asking after her.”

“Tell her I demand she calls me.”

“I'll tell her. It is good to see you again, Ann. And you, too, sir.”

Brice couldn't believe it. He curled his hand around the nape of her neck, tenderly pulling her closer. “Okay, how do you know my grandparents?”

“We met at my Grandpop's funeral, although it's been a few years now,” she explained. “I'm glad to see you are both well.”

“As right as rain.” Gram clasped her hands together as if in prayer. “How wonderful that you are with us here tonight, dear. To think you and Brice are dating.”

“I'm afraid that's just a rumor. I suppose it will never stop if I keep hanging out with him.”

“Oh, you have your grandmother's sense of humor.” It was plain to see that Gram already adored Ava. “I hear you've brought the cake tonight. Something special for our Brice. Now, we'll know just how much she's fallen in love with him when the cake is unveiled. What fun.”

“I'm afraid it's not what you're expecting.” Ava rolled her eyes in that way he loved so much. “Brice requested the cake, so if you don't like it you have to blame him. I'm the completely innocent baker.”

Ann and her husband Silas laughed pleasantly, as if they understood completely. Except for the fact that Brice's parents were staring at her as if she were their worst dream come true, the evening was going great.

The maid lady chose that moment to announce the salad was ready and to come to the table. She caught Lynn's coolly assessing gaze and thought, uh oh. But the minute his big hand enclosed over hers, she felt cherished all over again.

“See? They love you,” he whispered in her ear.

She might not be so sure, but he looked happy and she wouldn't jeopardize that for anything.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” he whispered again, hanging back to let the others head upstairs first.

“Not recently.”

“On a scale of one to ten, you're a two hundred. A definite Miss Perfect.”

Whatever you do, Ava, she warned herself, don't fall in love with him.

But it was too late.

 

Seated at his place at the mammoth dining room table, Brice couldn't believe how great dinner was going. Okay, Mom wasn't as warm to
Ava as he would have wished for, but she was doing pretty well considering. There had been no comments, bold or veiled, that could hurt Ava's feelings. It mattered to him that his mom was keeping her promise.

His dad, he could tell, thought she had it together. He'd quizzed Ava about her business plan, while Granddad had added his advice, and they both pronounced her plans financially sensible and well done.

Ava smiled in that sweet way of hers, winning his heart all over again, thanking Wilma as the maid cleared her plate.

Powerful love for her hit him like a punch to his chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel his heart beating. He could see only her. Be aware of only her. Seconds stretched into eternity and it was scary, this all-consuming love for her. Scary, but right.

He knew she was the right woman for him. The real question was: Did she feel the same way about him?

“Excuse me,” Ava said in her cheerful way, “but I'd better help set up the cake.”

“Oh, the cake!” Gram clasped her hands together in anticipation. “This I have to see.”

“I hope it's chocolate, like Chloe's wedding cake,” Granddad commented.

His mother's lips pursed tight; but thank the Lord she kept her opinions to herself. Brice's heart swelled with love for his mom. He was proud of her. He knew how hard it was for her to keep her promise to him. Catching her gaze, he nodded his
silent thanks, and some of the tension eased from around her mouth. He knew it was going to be okay.