Every Kind of Heaven

Every Kind of Heaven
Jillian Hart

Though she wanted a family of her own, love seemed so unreliable to busy bakery owner Ava McKaslin. Baking and honoring her faith were all she had on her life's to-do list. Until she hired Brice Donovan as her contractor. And her best-laid plans flew out the window!He'd long adored Ava from afar. Now that she needed his help, Brice wanted to show her how joyful life could be when there was love. He–and he hoped, the Lord–had big plans to give this special woman all the happiness she deserved.

“Looks like you need help,” said a rumbling baritone from behind her.

Could the morning get any worse?

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Ava said.

“Fine, huh? Aren’t those your car keys inside the car?”

“I believe so.”

Brice studied her for a moment. “Hey, it’s no big deal. This kind of thing happens, right?” Tender feelings came to life and he couldn’t seem to stop them. Maybe Ava’s keys getting locked inside the car was providential. Just like the fact that he was here to help at just the right moment.

“Let me help. It’ll just take a minute, and then you can be on your way,” he added.

Why was her every sense attuned to this man? Ava felt his presence like the bright radiant sun on her back, almost as if she was interested in him. But of course, she couldn’t be. And she especially couldn’t be falling in love with Brice Donovan.

JILLIAN HART

makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.

Every Kind of Heaven

Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

I consider that our present sufferings

are not worth comparing with the glory

that will be revealed in us.

—Romans 8:18

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Baker Ava McKaslin stopped humming as she stepped back from the worktable to inspect the wedding cake. Her footsteps echoed in the industrial kitchen, nearly empty except for a few basics—the sink, countertops and the few pieces of equipment she’d managed to buy off the previous tenant. They’d considered it too cumbersome and expensive to move the industrial oven and fridge, which was just her luck.

She might not have the bakery of her dreams yet, God willing, but it was a start. Besides, her cake was spectacular, if she did say so herself.

But what was with all the silence? She cut a look to the long stretch of metal counter behind her. The CD had come to an end. She’d probably forgotten to hit Repeat again. Okay, she forgot most things most of the time. Since her hands were all frosting coated, she hit the Play button with her elbow. The first beats of percussion got her right back into the creative mode. Although some people found it hard to think with bass blasting from her portable boom box, she thought it helped her brain cells to fire…or synapse…or do whatever brain cells did.

As the Christian music pulsed with an upbeat rhythm, she went back to work on the top tier. The delicate scrollwork took patience, not to mention stamina. Her wrist and arms were killing her, since she’d been at this for six hours straight. Ah, the price of being a baker. She ignored the burn in her exhausted muscles. Pain, that didn’t matter. What mattered was not failing.

Before she’d bought this place, she’d been unofficially in business by using her oldest sister Katherine’s snazzy kitchen off and on for a few months. This was her very first wedding cake in her own bakery. How great was that? And it was actually going well—a total shocker. So far there were no disasters. No kitchen fires. No last-minute cancellation of the wedding. It was almost as if this business venture of hers was meant to be.

Maybe she hadn’t made a disastrous mistake by jumping into this entrepreneurial thing with both feet. And, best of all, the remodeling contractor would start work soon transforming this drab commercial space into a cheerful bakery shop in less than a couple of weeks. That was another reason why she was in such a great mood.

“Hello?” a man’s voice—a stranger’s voice—yelled over the booming music.

She screamed. The spatula slipped from her grip. What was a man doing in her kitchen? A man she’d never seen before. Her brain scrambled and her body refused to move. She could only gape at him in wide-eyed horror.

Oh, no. What if he was the backdoor burglar? The thief that had been breaking into the back doors of restaurants and assaulting and stealing? What if this dude was him?

It would be smart to call 9-1-1, but she had no idea where her cell was. There was no business phone installed yet. Even if she did have her cell or a working landline, it wouldn’t matter since she was paralyzed in place.

“Uh…uh…” That was the best speech she could manage? Get it together, Ava. You’re about to be robbed. “I’ve seen your face, so I can identify you in a lineup.”