Every Kind of Heaven (3 page)

The tension eased from her tight jaw and rigid shoulders. She shrugged helplessly. “I've only had this car for a few months and I haven't figured out all the settings yet. It's too technologically advanced for me.”

“I doubt that.” Tender feelings came to life and he couldn't seem to stop them. Maybe her keys getting locked inside the car was providential. Just
like the fact that he was here to help at just the right moment. “I have a knack for this kind of thing.”

“Thanks, but please don't bother.”

She still wouldn't look at him. Instead, she stared hard at the toes of her sunshine-yellow sneakers. Yellow, just like her SUV. There was nothing mundane about Ava McKaslin.

He liked that. Very much.

She surprised him by sidestepping away, heading back to the service doors.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To find a phone.”

“To call…?”

“My sister to come with the extra set of keys.”

Wow. She really didn't want his help. Getting a woman to like him used to be easier than this, although he
had
been out of the dating circuit for a long time. After all, he'd dated Whitney two years before he'd proposed to her, which had turned out to be a much longer engagement period than either of them had expected. That put him nearly four, no, almost five years out of practice.

But still, he just didn't remember it being so difficult. “Your sister doesn't need to go to the trouble of driving out here. I'll break in for you.”

She paused midstride.

He could sense her indecision, so he tried again. “Let me help. It'll take a minute and then you can be on your way.”

“But I was so rude to you.”

“So? If you're worried about retaliation, forget it. I'm a turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy. And I won't leave a scratch on your new car. Promise.”

“And just why does a man like you know how to break into a car without leaving any evidence?”

“Chloe used to lock herself out of her car, too. I need a coat hanger. I'll be right back.” He shouldered past her, pausing at the base of the concrete steps.

Why was her every sense attuned to this man? She felt Brice's presence like the bright radiant sun on her back, almost as if she was interested in him, but, of course, she couldn't be. She was done with thinking about any guy, and done with dreams of falling in love.

She was done with dreams like Brice Donovan.

“M
ission accomplished. No trouble at all.”

His voice moved through Ava like a warm breeze. She turned toward him as her car's alarm went off. While the vehicle honked and the headlights flashed, he calmly opened the back door, grabbed the key ring with the remote and pressed the button. The horn silenced, the headlights died.

For him, it had been simple. But for her? She'd had to stand here and watch him, knowing he was helping her out of sympathy. Because he'd felt pity for his little sister's friend.

She would rather fall through a big black hole in the ground than to have to look Brice Donovan in the eye one more time. Sure, he was being gallant and incredibly nice, but it wasn't as if she could erase the things she'd said to him. She heard all the adjectives she'd called him roll around in her head.
Mr. Yuck. Riffraff.
She'd told him to
get some morals.
How could she have not recognized him? How could she have made such a mistake?

“All done. And without any damage, thanks to the caterer.” He finished bending a wire hanger back into place, but his gaze seared her from six feet away. “Lucky for us she had this in her van.”

“Yep, lucky for us.” But she didn't feel fortunate. Her nose was still strawberry red, but now it felt hot, too, as if it were glowing under its own energy source.

He opened her driver's side door, looking every inch the handsome millionaire in the designer tux he wore, which fit him like a vision. Of course. He appeared every inch the proverbial prince. And suddenly she knew how Cinderella felt in her ragged dress, wishing she could put on a fancy dress and change her circumstances.

“Here are your keys.” They rested on his wide, capable palm.

She couldn't help but notice how strong his hand was. Calluses roughened his skin, as if he worked hard for a living. But that couldn't be. Wasn't he a trust fund kind of guy?

“Thanks, again.”

It took all her willpower to meet his gaze. His eyes were so kind and tender. Clearly, he wasn't holding the mistaken identity thing against her. What a relief.

“Goodbye, Brice.” She scooped the keys from
his hand as quickly as she could, but her fingertips brushed his hand.

It was like touching a piece of heaven. A corner of serenity. The shame within her faded until there was only a hush in her soul. She didn't know why this happened, but it couldn't be a good sign. She hopped into her car, grabbed her belt as Brice closed her door. Their gazes met, held through the tempered glass, and her world stilled. Her heart forgot to beat.

Probably from the aftereffects of a lethal dose of embarrassment and nothing else—surely not interest, she told herself as she started the engine. But she knew, down deep, that wasn't the truth. The truth wasn't something she could examine too closely.

She drove away, into the sun, purposefully keeping her gaze on the road ahead. She resisted the urge to peek at her rearview mirror and see if he was standing there, watching her go.

 

Chloe had cried in happiness at her first glimpse of the wedding cake. The cake had been cut, pictures taken, and everyone in the ballroom had been served, and still he could hear the conversation buzzing about the unbelievable cake. It had looked like a porcelain creation of art and beauty, impossible that it was edible. But every piece, from the intricate lace ruffles to the golden beads to the delicate curls of rose petals, had tasted as sweet as heaven.

Each of the two hundred carefully stacked
serving boxes, printed to match the lacework of the cake, held an individual cake for the guests to take home. A heart-shaped version with sugary miniature rosebuds and golden ribbons. He thought of the woman who had done so much work as a gift to his sister. Chloe didn't know it yet since he hadn't found the moment to tell her. She looked as happy as a princess in her frosty white gown at her husband's side.

Brice thanked God for his sister's happiness. He wouldn't mind having some of that kind of joy of his own. He took a gulp of sparkling cider, draining the glass. This was the spot where Ava had stood earlier this morning, with the pale morning sunshine sprinkling over her like a blessing.

Then she'd driven away. What had she been thinking? Did she like him at all? She hadn't acted like it, and yet he'd thought he'd glimpsed something in her eyes. Something that made him think she might be feeling this, too.

Then again, she'd driven off pretty fast. That couldn't be the best sign.

“
There
you are, big brother. You've been hiding.” Chloe swept close in her cloud of a dress.

“You know me. All this fancy stuff makes me itch.”

She slipped her arm through his. “You look dashing. Five of my former sorority sisters asked me if you were seeing someone.”

“And you said…?”

“That you seem to be interested in someone. But if I'm wrong, I have a long list of available women I can set you up with, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor.”

“You know I had nothing to do with that. It's not me.” That only made him feel more out of place. Like he was a rich playboy looking for a fast lifestyle or a great catch for a debutante—both equally wrong.

All he wanted was to trade in this getup for his favorite T-shirt, jeans and his broken-in work boots. That's who he really was, and all this glam and glitter made his palms sweat. He swept his hand toward the cake. “You don't need to set me up with a date. I can do it myself.”

“Would you rather Mom did it? She's working on it, you know. I was just trying to help out.”

“I know.” If anyone knew how rough of a time he'd had after the breakup with Whitney, it was Chloe. She meant well. “I can handle it from here.”

“I never doubted it.” She rose up on tiptoe to brush a sisterly kiss to his cheek. “I want you to be happy. I saw how you looked at Ava at my shower.”

“Exactly how was that?”

“Like you were glimpsing heaven. Don't worry, I haven't said anything to her, but you should ask her out. I bet she says yes.”

“I've tried that, but I don't think she likes me.” Like he needed his baby sister's dating advice. He could handle his own love life just fine. “She said no.”

“And since when does Brice Donovan take no for
an answer?” She flounced away, grinning over her shoulder at him. “Try again, silly. Look out, here comes Mom.”

The problem was, his mother had been dropping some pretty strong hints lately. Now that she had Chloe successfully matched, she must be refocusing her energy on him. She seemed determined as she barreled through the crowd. Flawless, dressed in diamonds and flowing silk, she looked deceptively like a genteel upper-class lady instead of the five-star general she really was.

“Brice. You have been hiding again.” She tugged at his tie, unknotted and hanging loose. “This isn't a barnyard. And what are you doing all the way over here? What are people going to think?”

He accepted the china dessert plate a server handed him. “Maybe people will think that I'm having a second piece of cake.”

“Yes. The cake. Horrible, that's what it is. I don't know what Chloe was thinking going with that McKaslin girl.”

“That she wanted her friend to make her wedding cake.”

“Ridiculous. That cake is unsophisticated and completely unacceptable. And the taste of it, why, it's much too sweet. What is wrong with that girl? I told Chloe. I said, you're going to regret going with her.”

“Mom, stop. You're doing it again.”

“But did she listen to me? No, she had to have
her own way. We ought to have gone with a professional, not some iffy girl who thinks because our family is richer than hers, she has the right to charge us an arm and a leg.”

He laid a hand on his mom's arm to stop her. Sometimes she got such a wind going—sort of like gravity's effect on a snowball rolling downhill—that she simply couldn't realize what she was saying. “Chloe's happy, and that's all that matters. Besides, how much did Ava charge?”

“Ava, is it?” Mom's face pinched, something only she could do and still look dignified. “I wouldn't be so familiar with her if I were you. Her family has money, goodness, but that mother of hers.”

“People have been known to say the same thing about Chloe.” He said it gently, because he knew his mother didn't mean to be harsh. She simply wasn't aware of it. “I think Ava did an amazing job. So does everyone else in the room. Maybe you should learn to like sweet. You're awfully fond of the bitter.”

“That had better not be a veiled reference to me, young man.” His mom smiled and tried to hide it, but her eyes were twinkling. “I work hard for this reputation. If people aren't afraid of you, they take advantage. Now, come with me and say hello to a few of my dear friends.”

“To the
daughters
of your friends, you mean.”

“Crystal Frost is back from her disastrous
divorce to that big real estate broker in Seattle. She's perfect for you.”

“Perfect? I don't think so.” He took a bite of cake, and sweetness flooded his mouth. The frosting was as rich as cream cheese, and the cake was delicious and buttery.
Perfect.

“Hello, Brice. Excuse me.” One of his mother's friends had sauntered over and gestured toward the cake. “Lynn, this is all so lovely. I came to plead for the name of the designer. My Carly must have a cake like this for her wedding.”

Brice knew it would probably drain his mother of her life energy to say something kind about anyone. She was his mom, so he tried to save her from herself. And he wanted to help the cute baker, even if she didn't want to have coffee with him. “Ava McKaslin is the designer and I highly recommend her. Chloe loved working with her.”

“Oh, let me think which McKaslin girl. Oh, of course. The friend of your sister's. One of the twins?”

“Yep. She has a shop off Cherry Lane. My company starts renovation on it this week.”

“I know which shop you mean. Why, thank you, Brice. You do know that my Crystal is back from Seattle. She's here somewhere.” Maxime scanned the room. “Where did she go?”

Uh-oh. Time to escape while he could. “I have to go. Mrs. Frost, it was good seeing you again. Bye, Mom.”

He left quickly and didn't look back. It wasn't until he hit the foyer that he realized he still had hold of his dessert plate. Ava's cake. As if he couldn't quite let her go.

 

The only reason Ava heard her cell ring was because of the break between songs. The electronic chime echoed in the silence of her shop's kitchen. She set down her pastry cone, hit the Pause button on her CD player and went in search of her phone.

Not in her apron pocket. Not on the kitchen counter. She followed the electronic ringing to her gym bag. She unzipped the outside compartment and
ta da,
there it was.

As she grabbed her phone, she realized it was after four. Mrs. Carnahan was supposed to drop by for the birthday cake in ten minutes! Good thing it was almost done. Well, it
would
be done if she'd stop fussing. But after this morning's disaster, she wanted this cake to be perfect.

She flipped open the phone. “I'm late, I know. I was supposed to call an hour ago. My bad.”

Instead of her sister's sensible response, a man's resonant chuckle vibrated in her ear. “Keeping your boyfriend waiting?”

It took her a moment to place that voice. Brice Donovan. If he was calling, that could only mean one thing. “Chloe wasn't happy with the cake?”

Disappointment drained her and she sank onto the floor next to her gym bag. Not only had she
failed at something she'd tried her hardest at, something that she was good at, but she'd let down a friend. “I'm so sorry.”

“Now, wait one minute. That's not why I'm calling.”

“It's not?”

“No.” His voice warmed like melting chocolate, kind and friendly. “I'm calling to thank you. You made her very happy. She didn't want to cut into the cake because it was too pretty.”

“Really? Chloe was happy? Whew!” That was a relief. Now, if she could just forget flinging insults, she'd be doing well. Don't even think about what happened, she told herself. Look forward, not back. Don't dwell on what went wrong.

Problem was, that was easier said and not so easy to do. She took a quivering breath. “Good. Then my work is done.”

“And your work is?”

“To make this world a sweeter place one cake at a time. I know it's not solving world strife, but it's the only talent I seem to have, so I'm going with it.”

“Surely that's not your only gift.”

“Uh, you don't want to hear the long list of disasters I've left in my wake. Speaking of which, I have a cake to get ready and box for a client.”

“You can't do that and talk to me?”

“If I want to drop the cake. I need two hands.”

Don't think of him in that tux, she thought. Or how amazing he looked. Or how kind he'd been
when he'd helped her recover her keys. What had he been thinking when she'd driven away? That unreadable expression in his eyes came back to her now and unsettled her. Why?

Just forget it, Ava. Just forget him. “I appreciate the call. Thank you.”

“Well, now, I'm not done with you yet.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She couldn't keep the curiosity out of her voice. Or the smile. Both the humiliation she'd felt and the failure seemed far away. Maybe it was because she knew this was a pity call. He felt sorry for the dopey cake lady. Face it, he was Mr. Wow, and she was lucky to keep the date and time straight.

That meant this was a business call. How great was that? She hadn't totally embarrassed herself beyond redemption after all. Cool. “Hopefully you're interested in placing an order?”

“You've got a renovation coming up. How are you going to fill your orders?”