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 hardworking 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 can 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 workday, 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 wouldn’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 worktable 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
