Every Kind of Heaven (6 page)

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.

E
veryone 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?”

“I'm not avoiding him.” It wasn't true but she wanted it to be. “Fine, I just avoided him for the day. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.”

“He's supposed to be this great guy. Wasn't he this year's most eligible bachelor or something?”

“Let's not talk about him.” She glanced around the table to see if everyone was straining to listen. They were. “Later, okay?”

Katherine spoke up. “Didn't you do a wedding cake for Brice's sister?”

“Yeah. Just.” Like she wanted to talk about it?
This
was the downside of being in a big family. Nothing was secret for long. “He's the contractor doing the renovation.”

Spence leaned in. “You mean it's his
company
doing the renovation. He's not doing the actual work. He's an owner.”

“No, he's like the on-site manager guy. Trust me, he had a hammer and everything.” She hedged because everyone in her family but Aubrey was
way
too eager to marry her off. “Chloe recommended the company.”

It didn't look like anyone at the table was fooled by that.

Katherine passed her hunky fiancé a platter of mozzarella sticks. “I thought Brice Donovan was engaged.”

“No,” Aubrey dragged a zucchini slice through a puddle of dip. “I read in the paper over a year ago that she called it off. The wedding was cancelled something like two days before it was supposed to happen. That had to be very hard for both of them.”

Ava couldn't seem to swallow. The part of her that was afraid of getting close to him wanted to use this new piece of news as a reason to keep away
from him. He'd already had one failed relationship. He was probably at fault, and she didn't need some flawed guy, right? On the surface, it sounded like the best reasoning.

But she knew it wasn't. Brice was a good guy—that much was clear. The real question was, how far down did that kindness go? Was it superficial, or the real thing?

The cracked pieces of her heart ached with a wish she couldn't let herself voice. Brice had a lot of redeeming qualities, so what? She had to resist. What she had to do was clear every thought of him from her mind. His every image from her memory. No more thoughts of Brice Donovan allowed.

“Good evening, McKaslin family,” said a familiar voice behind her. Brice's voice.

Of course.

Why did it have to be him? She felt as if she'd been hit with the debris from a fast approaching tornado. She couldn't outrun it, escape it and there was no hope of avoiding it as Brice Donovan stepped into sight.

To her surprise her brother stood, nodding a greeting. “Good to see you again, Brice. Would you care to join us, or are you here with your family?”

“With family. It's my mother's birthday, but thanks for the invite. I just spotted Ava and I thought I'd come over. Let her know a few things about the job today, if she's got time before her meal arrives.”

Ava could feel the power of his presence, stronger than the earth's gravity holding her feet to the floor. “Do I have time?” she asked her twin.

“I ordered for you,” Aubrey explained. “Take your phone and you two go talk. I'll call you when the meal arrives.”

Okay, it sounded like a good plan, but there was a downside here—did she want to be alone with Brice? No. Was she mentally prepared to be alone with him? Not a chance.

She grabbed her plate and her phone and followed him to the more casual patio area, where there were plenty of tables available. Brice nodded toward one of the waiters, who gestured to a set of unoccupied tables along the railing.

“I was hoping to catch you tomorrow morning.” Brice was entirely too close as he leaned to pull out a chair for her. “But seeing you charge through the restaurant a few minutes ago seemed like a sign. I hope you don't mind the intrusion.”

“Nope.” What she minded was being alone with him. How was she going to hold onto her policy now? She caught a hint of his spicy aftershave. “After all, we've agreed to be friends.”

“Exactly.” He smiled his killer smile, the one with the dimples.

Did he know what that did to a woman? It made every innocent, friendly thought vanish and the ones about sweet romance and marriage proposals surge forth like a hurricane hitting shore. That part
of her, which always panicked when she got too close to anyone new, started to tremble.

There was no need to panic. This was only business, right? Except as he helped her scootch her chair up to the table, it definitely didn't feel friendly.

He took the chair across the table from her, and a girl might think that would be safer, with the span of the table between them, but somehow he seemed closer. Much too close.

Don't wish, she reminded herself and bit into a zucchini slice. “If it's bad news about the renovation, you can't just spring it on me. It's best to work up to it. Want some?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a coated, deep-fried slice and crunched into it. “I have some suggestions for changes for the finished woodwork. What Rafe drew up for you is nice, but it's plain.”

“It's what I can afford.”

“You can afford this, too.” He took another slice. His manner was casual, his overall tone was friendly, but there was something intense beneath the surface, something that hadn't been there before. “I think you'll be happier with it. It won't add any time if I get started now. I mostly do the jobs with custom woodwork.”

“I'm still trying to picture that. I know, I've seen you with a tool belt, but it doesn't still compute.” She said this without thinking and watched his face harden. Not in a mean way, but guarded, like she'd struck a sore spot. “Don't get me wrong. There's a
lot of integrity working to perfect a craft and doing your best. It's how I justify my baking. But I look at you and think, white-collar professional.”

“It's a big issue in my family right now. My mom and dad have always just assumed I'd step into place at the family business and take over the firm when Dad's ready to retire. And he's starting to think about it, so they're starting to get serious.”

“Aren't they supportive of what you're doing now?”

“They're tolerating it.”

“I can't imagine that.” Ava dragged a zucchini slice through the dip and bit into it. “My family is everything to me. I would be nothing without them.”

“You seem tight with your sisters.”

“Yeah. I'd never be able to open my own bakery without my family's help. I got my business loan from my grandmother—talk about fear of failure. I don't want to let her down. And Spence helped me with my business plan and buying the property. My sisters are helping me with the finishing stuff. Katherine took me to all the flea markets and swap meets and secondhand stores in the state, I think, and we got a bunch of bistro tables and chairs that Aubrey is refinishing for me in her studio. My stepsister Danielle has promised to make the window blinds and valences. That kind of thing. And that's not including the pep talks when I need them.”

“So, they've got a lot of confidence in you. It
must be nice to have the people you love most wanting what will make you happy.”

“It is.” Ava's eyes shone with emotion and she dunked her zucchini into the dip. “It's also a lot of people to disappoint. Something I could never stand to do.”

He could see that about her. Brice's throat tightened. “I can't stand how much this has upset my parents either. It's been a huge strain on our relationship.”

“They want the best for you, though?”

He could see from the hopeful trust in her eyes that she didn't understand. “They do. I know they love me, but the truth is, I'm not what they hoped for in a son. I wrestled with it for a long time. I tried things their way, but I'm not cut out for spending a day in an office, investing other people's money. I like the work I do, but they see it as too blue collar.”

“And that would be wrong because…?”

He swallowed his embarrassment over his parents. They were too set in their ways and opinions to change. He tried to dismiss the pain behind it, and the weight of his father's disappointments. His father who was a good, loving dad. Love and family were always complicated. “Dad thinks I'm not going to be happy unless I have a white-collar career, but I think it's the appearance thing. They care too much what other people think.”

“It's hard to know other people think you're a
dope or a loser. It has happened to me too many times to count. I've become sort of numb to it.”

He choked down a hoot of laughter. She said it with a twinkle in her eyes. She always surprised him. “Exactly. I've become a little numb on this subject, where my parents are concerned. My mom is still holding out hope I'll come to my senses and go to law school or medical school. Or into the seminary.”

“I can't picture you doing any of that. I'm sure you'd be good at any profession you chose, but you can only be yourself. Who God meant you to be.” She lowered her gaze and stared hard at the table's surface between them. “At least, that's what my older sister keeps telling me.”

“She's right.”

He considered the woman across from him, with her blond hair windblown and going every which way. She was lovelier every time he saw her. Today her cheeks were slightly flushed from what he guessed to be a busy day. She had that breathless look about her. Her words had been rolling around in his head all day.
It's an iron-clad, non-negotiable no-man, no-dating policy.

He couldn't give up hope completely. Business first. And when the renovation was done, then he'd see where he stood with her.

At that exact moment her cell rang. She checked it and turned it off. “It's Aubrey. Food's served. I'm sorry, but I'm starving.”

He stood to help her with her chair. “You'll stop by tomorrow when I'm there so I can show you what I have in mind?”

“I can do that.”

“No more drive-by bakings?”

“Now, I can't promise that.” She swished away.

She was so small and fragile, so whimsical and feminine, that a vibrant, steel-like emotion came to life in his heart, overtaking him. He watched her go with a mix of care and affection. He really liked her.

She stopped at the end of the row of tables. “Oh, I forgot to ask about the muffins. Did the men like them?”

“The monsters were the hit of the day.”

She flashed him her brightest smile, the one that showed her dazzling spirit. The one that caught his heart like a hook on a line and dug deep. The hook did not leave as she walked away with her gait snapping and her golden hair swaying across her back. Even when she was out of his sight it remained, inexplicably.

 

Without Brice Donovan anywhere around, it was like a thousand times easier to remember her policy. Later that day, Ava jammed her Bible study materials into her tote and heaved it off the floor. The classroom in the church's auxiliary building was pleasant and serene, but then she always felt peaceful after spending an hour in fellowship,
studying her Bible. She was focused and calm and everything seemed clear.

Aubrey fell in beside her and they trailed the small crowd filing out the door. “I'm in the mood for chocolate. Want to stop by the ice creamery and pig out on sundaes?”

“Like I would ever think that was a bad idea.” Really. Did Aubrey even have to ask? She staggered under the weight of her mammoth bag. She was really going to have to find the time to go through it and clean it out—not that she was skilled at stuff like that. “I need sustenance if I'm going to be able to face my day tomorrow. It's jam-packed.”

“You remembered we were going to babysit for Danielle, right?” Aubrey waited a beat before rolling her eyes. Their stepsister was happily married with two great kids. “It's okay. Don't even bother. I'll babysit and you'll do it next Friday. I've got that church retreat thing. So, tomorrow's packed?”