Every Kind of Heaven (5 page)

“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 work table 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 story book, 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 afterwards 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's 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 like 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 workboots—all shouted tough
guy, but in a really good, hard-working 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. Isn'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 onto as she took the other step through the door and closed Brice Donovan from her sight.

A
va 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 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, 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 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.