Every Kind of Heaven

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?”

He probably knew about the upcoming renovation because Chloe had been the one to recommend a construction company. “I’m planning on using my sister’s kitchen. She’s spending most of her evenings with her fiancé and his daughter, so I’ve commandeered her condo.”

“Then maybe you and I can talk later. Say, Monday morning, bright and early?”

“Oops. Can’t. I have construction dudes coming by bright and early.”

“That’s a coincidence because I—”

“I’m totally sorry, but my customer is here. Can I call you back and we can make an appointment? I can show you my catalogue and have some samples ready.”

“Why don’t I come by on Monday sometime?” Brice leaned back in his car seat and could see the bakery’s front door over the curve of the side mirror. There was a grandmotherly woman at the front door, waving at Ava through the glass.

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I really appreciate this. Bye!” There was a click in his ear.

He slid his sunglasses down his nose to get a better view as the front door swung open and there was Ava, dressed in her jeans and that yellow T-shirt, her hair tied back and her genuine smile bright as she waved her hands, talking away to her customer.

Okay, this isn’t how he figured things would go. Again. Ava wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

She caught his gaze again, moving back into sight with a cake made like a giant dump truck. The red chassis and the bright blue bed made it look like the real toy. Even from a distance, he could see the details. The driver behind the steering wheel, the big black tires, and real-looking dirt.

When she opened the other box, he watched the grandmother’s face brighten a notch. There were what had to be small cake rocks about the size of his thumb in chubby yellow buckets. One for each little guest, he figured.

The grandmother looked delighted. But it was the sight of Ava that drew him, multifaceted and flawless, shining like one perfect jewel. She probably didn’t realize how she shone from the inside out when she was happy. How caring she was as she refolded the side panels and tucked the lids of the boxes into place. How she waved away what was probably a compliment with ease. She was like no one he’d ever seen before.

Something happened inside him when he looked at Ava. Something that made his spirit come more alive.

He was going to try again. She was a sparkle he could not resist.

He put the car into gear and started driving. Her cheerful words replayed in his mind. Hopefully you’re interested in placing an order? She’d sounded so full of joy. How was he going to tell her he hadn’t meant he wanted to order a cake, but to talk to her about that cup of coffee he’d mentioned earlier?

And what about the renovation? She’d sounded as if the construction guys who were coming had nothing to do with him and his company. She did know he was a part owner, right?

Then again, Ava might not have noticed. His business partner, Rafe, had handled the contracts and the scheduling, and was supervising this project.

Brice hit the speed dial on his cell and waited for it to connect. He’d see if Rafe wouldn’t mind switching jobs. Being around Ava every working day for the next two weeks sounded like a good idea. No, a brilliant idea, considering how much he wanted to get to know her.

How would she take it? He was definitely anxious to see the look on her face when he walked into her shop bright and early Monday morning. What would happen then? Only God knew.

One thing was for sure, it was going to be a whole lot of fun to find out.

“Good news!” Ava announced as she sailed through the front door of their apartment. “Mrs. Carnahan loved the cake. She said her little grandson was going to be so happy. And your idea about adding bonus party favors at no charge—it was brilliant. She loved the little rocks I made.”

Her twin, Aubrey poked her head out of the kitchen. “What did I tell you?”

“I know, you’re always right. I don’t deny it.” Ava rolled her eyes, shut the door with her foot and dropped her purse, gym bag and keys on the floor. “Instead of takeout burgers, I splurged and got Thai. Cashew chicken, stir-fried rice and that noodle dish you love.”

“Well done.” Aubrey’s smile turned full-fledged as she reached for the big takeout sack. “Hurry up, get changed. I’ll get us all set up.”

“I’m late, I know. But it was an excellent day despite it all. Who knew?” Ava took off for her bedroom, a total disaster. One day when she got enough time, it would be the epitome of orderliness. But since she wasn’t sure when that would be, she had to go with the flow.

Knowing Aubrey was waiting, she tossed her clothes on the floor, kicked her sandals toward the closet and dug around in the laundry basket of clean clothes for her favorite sweatpants and T-shirt. After she found her fuzziest socks, she flew down the little hall.

Aubrey was in the living room setting two heaping plates of food onto two TV trays facing the widescreen TV they couldn’t afford but got anyway. Not smart, and her poor credit card was bent from the weight of debt, but it was nice to watch Clark Gable in forty-two-inch glory.

“If you would have remembered to call before I hit the video store, you would have had some say in tonight’s movie,” Aubrey said as she settled down on the couch.

“Hey, the cell waves work both ways. You could have called me.”

“I’m always calling you.” Aubrey reached for her napkin and shook it open over her lap. “So, I take it the Donovan cake delivery went well this morning. You haven’t mentioned the groom. What happened with that?”

“Oh, that’s a disaster. Total doom. You know me.” While she’d told her sister about insulting Brice Donovan, she hadn’t given her the day’s full update.

“Men.” Aubrey shook her head, disapproving. “And to think Chloe’s groom, Mark Upton, is supposed to be like last year’s most eligible bachelor. Philanthropic. An upstanding Christian. I guess it just shows, you never know about some men. They show one face when they really have another.”

“Well, now, that’s not exactly the case.” Ava slipped behind the TV tray and plopped onto the couch. “Whew, I’m starved. Your turn to say the blessing.”

“What happened? Are you telling me that he showed up this morning at the country club and apologized? Or no, there was a mix up. He didn’t proposition you, did he? You jumped to conclusions like you always do and accused him of it. Right? When it wasn’t true?”

“You’re partly right. I was asked out to coffee, sure, but it wasn’t by Mr. Upland. I thought it was, but you know me, like I can remember everyone I’ve ever met.”

“We went to school with Mark Upton. Don’t you remember?”

“I was busy in high school. How was I supposed to know everyone? Besides, I don’t recognize a lot of people. I’m not good with faces.”

“Or names.”

“Or names.” How could she argue with that? She wanted to keep things light and funny, that’s the way she felt comfortable with everything. Anything serious or painful, well, that made her feel way too much. And once you started really feeling, then you had to face all the other emotions you were trying to avoid.

Avoidance was a very good policy. At least, she was doing fine avoiding the things that hurt the most. Take today. She didn’t have to think about the fact that Brice Donovan might think she was a disaster, too, but he wanted to order a cake. She’d concentrate on the cake part, and try hard not to think about anything else.

Not that she was having the greatest luck with that.

“So what really happened?” Aubrey asked, taking possession of the remote before Ava could grab it and divert her with the movie. “It’s okay. You can tell me. It isn’t as bad as you think. Really.”

Easy for Aubrey, who thought things through before she opened her mouth. Aubrey who never made a mistake of any kind, who never embarrassed herself, who never locked her keys in the car.

Remembering how Brice Donovan’s voice had sounded, kind and not belittling, made the yuck of her morning fade a few shades.

“I’ll tell you after the movie.” Ava shrugged. Some things she didn’t even want to talk about, even with her twin. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she knew it made Aubrey sad to be shut out like that, but she didn’t want to share every detail.

She wanted to do things right for a change—not just try really hard and then fail, but to really stay focused and careful and committed. One day, maybe she could be the girl who didn’t make a mess, who didn’t insult Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor or who frustrated people so much they simply left her for good.

As Aubrey bowed her head, beginning the blessing, Ava bowed her head, too. But she added a silent prayer to Aubrey’s. Show me the way, Lord. Please, I don’t want to mess up anymore. Show me how to be different. Better.

There was no answer, just the click of the remote as Aubrey hit a button. The TV flared to life, showing a classic movie with a silver-screen hero. Maybe if she met a man like that, she might make an exception to her no-man policy.

She grabbed her fork and dug into the cashew chicken, but did she pay attention to the movie? No. Who was she thinking about?

Brice Donovan and how he’d looked like a real gentleman in his tux. How he’d looked like one of her forgotten dreams when he’d been standing in the full brightness of the morning sun, looking as vibrant and as substantial as a legend come true. But it was just a trick of the light. Legends didn’t exist in real life, and real love didn’t happen to her.

Chapter Four

It was a beautiful Monday morning, and Ava was on her way to meet the construction dudes. Okay, in truth, she was going to ply them with her special batch of homemade doughnuts and signature coffee. She might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but she wasn’t the dimmest. It was only common sense that people worked better when they were well fueled.

This renovation was a step toward her dream. Tangible and real, and all the hammering and sawing and dust to come would transform the dingy little place into a baker’s delight. This was fabulous, something to celebrate, right?

Right. At least, she should be feeling so buoyant with happiness that she ought to be floating. But sadly her happiness felt subdued and superficial like icing on the cake, and nothing deeper. Why?

She’d been down a little ever since Brice Donovan’s call. Did that make any sense?

No. So what was all this being sad stuff about?

Concentrate on the positive, Ava.

She screeched into the closest parking space since her favorite spot—right beneath the shade of a broad-leafed maple—was already taken by a big forest-green pickup truck. It was the ostentatious kind that looked as if it cost more than a house. There was a lot of chrome glinting in the low-rising sun and big lights on top of a custom cab. It probably belonged to one of the construction guys.

Yep, there was one standing on the sidewalk with his back to her. He seemed to be looking over the front of the shop with a contractor’s discerning eye.

She cut the engine and grabbed her cell from the console and her bag from the front passenger seat. It was still early, only ten minutes to seven. She’d have time to get the coffee canisters set up and the doughnuts laid out before the rest of the workers arrived. She elbowed the door open, stepped down from the seat and the second her shoe touched the ground she felt it. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

The construction worker hadn’t moved. He was still staring at the front windows—and she could see his reflection as clearly as she could see her own. He looked remarkably like Brice Donovan. That handsome face, sculpted cheekbones and chin, straight nose and strong jaw were all the same. Except for one thing—how could that be Brice? It made no sense. She gave the door a shove to close it.

She had Brice Donovan on the brain. That’s why her emotions were all off kilter. That’s why she wasn’t fully enjoying the beautiful morning or this first momentous day of construction.

Brice Donovan. It wasn’t as if she even liked him a tiny bit. Really. So what was going on? Maybe it was stress, she decided as she circled around to the back of the vehicle and realized she hadn’t hit the door release.

No problem. She looked down at her cell phone. Where were her keys?

The automatic locks clicked shut all on their own.

Great. Wonderful. Terrific. She’d done it again! Why wasn’t she paying better attention?

Well, if she hadn’t have been thinking of Brice Donovan then she wouldn’t have been distracted. See? This is why she had to stick to her no-man policy—all the way. No exceptions. Even thinking of him just a little caused problems.

She leaned her forehead against the rear window and took a deep breath. All she needed was to call Aubrey. Plus, there was a silver lining in all this. At least this time she hadn’t locked her cell phone in, too. Hey, it could be worse.

She flipped open her phone when a startling familiar baritone rumbled right behind her. “Let me guess. You’re in need of rescuing again.”

Brice Donovan? She turned around and there he was, looking totally macho in workmen’s clothes. The lettering on the light gray T-shirt he wore said it all: D&M Construction, the name of the company she’d hired for the renovation. How on earth did he have a shirt with that company name? Did he work for them?

Then it hit her. Maybe the D stood for Donovan. Wow.

He jammed his hands into his pockets, emphasizing the muscled set of his shoulders. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“Surprised.” So surprised she had to lean against the fender for support. “What are you doing here?”

“Rafe Montgomery was going to do the job, but I sweet-talked him into trading.”

“Lucky me.” Ava’s mind swirled. Montgomery must be the M in the company. Rafe had been a nice man who’d been her contact. “But why are you here in workman’s clothes. Aren’t you like an investment broker or something?”

“That would be my dad. Rafe Montgomery and I got to talking one night while we were studying for our graduate school exams. What we were really dreading wasn’t taking the test, it was being cooped up in an office all day. Just like our dads. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind putting in a good hard day’s work, but I felt put in a box. It wasn’t for either of us. So we pooled our resources and went into business.”

That was the most unlikely story she’d ever heard. MBA dudes who built stuff? “I’d like to think you had woodworking training. A certificate of carpentry competence.”

“I’m good at what I do, believe me.”

Oh, she did believe him. And how was it possible that he looked even better dressed for work than he had the other day in a tux? Today he looked genuine, capable and very manly.

“Let me get a coat hanger.” He strode to the green pickup and opened the crew-cab door. A big golden retriever tumbled out and ping-ponged in place in front of Brice, tongue lolling. “Whoa there, boy.”

Okay, she melted. She couldn’t help it—she was a softy when it came to dogs. “What’s his name?”

Goofy brown eyes fastened on her. That big doggy mouth swung wide, showing dozens of sharp teeth. The huge canine launched toward her, tongue out and grinning, moving so fast he was a golden-brown blur.

“Rex, no! Come back here.” Brice reached for his collar to catch him.

Too late.

Ava didn’t have time to brace herself, because the dog was already leaping on her, plopping one front paw on either side of her neck, almost hugging her. His tongue swiped across her chin. Happy chocolate eyes studied hers with sheer joy.

“Brice, I’m in love with your dog.” She couldn’t help it. The big cuddly retriever hugged her harder before dropping down on all four paws. As if he knew how much he’d charmed her, he posed handsomely, staring up adoringly with those sweet eyes.

“Excuse him. He’s very friendly. Too friendly.” Brice grabbed his collar. “This may come as a shock to you but he failed every obedience class he’s been in. From puppy school all the way up to the academy.”

“Academy?”

“I hired professionals, but in the end, he won.” Brice turned his attention to the retriever, his face softening, his big hand stroking over the crown of the canine’s downy head. He received a few swipes of that lolling tongue and laughed. “Life’s hard enough, isn’t it? Without being told what to do every second of the day.”

Ava couldn’t believe it. The big, macho, most eligible bachelor was tough looking with all his masculine strength and charm, but she knew his secret. He was a big marshmallow underneath.

Not that she was interested. Really.

“This’ll only take a second, now that I have the routine down.” He took a wire hanger—she hadn’t even noticed when he’d fetched it from his truck—and unbent it enough to slide it between the frame of the door and the roof.

True to his word, a few seconds later he’d hit the lock and was pulling her key from the ignition and silencing the alarm. He hit the back door release for her.

Okay, he was really a decent guy. On the surface anyway, and that’s the only level on which she intended to know him. He was the D in D&M Construction, so that meant for better or worse, she was stuck with him. Not that she thought for a moment he actually did the hard work. No, he was probably more of a figurehead. He probably just oversaw projects. He was Roger Donovan’s son, right?

She lifted the back and slid out the bakery box, and Rex bounded up to sniff at it.

“Hey, buddy, these are not for you.” Ava might be charmed by the big cuddly dog, but she wasn’t that big of a pushover. “Sit.”

The retriever grinned up at her with every bit of charisma he possessed.

“Look at him drool. That can only mean one thing. There must be doughnuts in that box.” There was Brice, as large as life, wrapping one big, powerful hand around the canine’s blue nylon collar. “Need any help carrying those?”

“I suppose you like doughnuts, too.”

“Guilty.” His warm eyes and dazzling grin, those dimples and personality and his hard appearance made him look good down to the soul.

She had been fooled by this type of guy before, but not this time. “These are not for you. They are for your crew. For the men who actually work for a living instead of walking around owning companies.”

“Hey, I work hard.”

“I don’t see a hammer.” She reached for a second box, but he beat her to it. It was heavy with big thermos-type coffee canisters. “I see you eyeing the thermoses and no, you may not have any of that, either. Not unless you’re a construction dude, and I don’t see a tool belt strapped to your waist.”

“That’s not fair. My tools are in my truck.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure they are.”

Brice shut the door and hit the remote. Rex bounced at his hip, the dog’s gaze glued to the pink bakery box. “You know I’m the on-site manager of this project, right?”

“I’ll have to see it to believe it.” She snapped ahead of him with that quick-paced walk of hers, her yellow sneakers squeaking with each step. “I still don’t get why you’re here. Why I’m plagued with you and that dog of yours.”

She eyed him like a judge awaiting a guilty verdict, but she didn’t fool him. Not one bit. He saw in her eyes and in the hint of her smile what she was trying to hide. He wasn’t the only one wondering.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one wishing.

“Where do you want these?” he asked of the stuff he carrying.

She gestured to the worn wooden counter in front of them, where she’d set the bakery box and was lifting the lid.

He did as she asked and nearly went weak in the knees at the aroma wafting out from the open box. Sweet cake doughnuts, the comforting bite of chocolate, the richness of custard and the mouthwatering sweet huckleberries that glistened like fat blue jellybeans.

“Where did you get these?” The question wasn’t past his lips before he knew the answer. “You made these. You.”

“Okay, that’s so surprising? I’m a baker. Hel-lo.” She rolled her eyes at him, but it was cute, the way she shook her head as if she simply didn’t know about him. Yep, he knew what she was trying to do. Because whatever was happening between them felt a little scary, like standing on the edge of a crumbling precipice and knowing while the fall was certain, the how and what of the landing was not.