Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings

“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 was 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 jelly beans.

“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.

She pulled a bag of paper plates from her big shoulder bag, ripped it open and pulled out a plate. She slid the berries-and-cream-topped doughnut onto the plate and handed it to him. “I saw you eyeing it.”

Had she noticed how he’d been looking at her? He thought she was two hundred times sweeter than that doughnut. “How about some cups?”

“Here.” She pulled a bag of them from her mammoth bag. “Which doughnut should I give your dog?”

Rex gave a small bark of delight and sat on his haunches like the best dog in the world. His doggy gaze was glued on the bottom corner of the bakery box.

“He’d take every last one. Don’t trust him if you leave that box uncovered.”

“Oh, he’s a good guy. It’s you I don’t trust,” she said with a hint of a grin. “You said you traded with Mr. Montgomery. I want to know why.”

Just his luck. He filled two cups with sweetened, aromatic coffee and handed her one. “How about grace, first?”

“I’ve already had my breakfast.” She took the coffee.

Their fingertips brushed and it was a little like being hit by a lightning strike from a blue sky. His heartbeat lurched to a stop. What was it about Ava that seemed to make his world stand still?

She gave him another judgmental look like a prim schoolmarm as she put a glazed doughnut on a second plate. Rex’s tail thumped like a jackhammer against the scarred tile floor. She knelt to set the plate on the floor.

“What a nice polite gentleman,” she praised, and gave him a pat.

Rex sat a moment to further fool Ava into thinking he was a perfect dog before he wolfed down the doughnut in two bites.

“You’re welcome,” she said as she patted him again and removed the plate. “Oh, some of the men are driving up now. Good.”

Brice tried not to let it bother him that she disregarded him completely as she disappeared through the kitchen door. This was not how most single ladies reacted to him. He considered the steaming cup of coffee he held and the plate with the delectable doughnut.

Lord, I’m gonna need help with this one. If it’s Your will, please show me the way.

The doors swung closed as if in answer, swinging open again to show a glimpse of Ava, washed in sunlight from the large window. Inexplicably, the sun shone brighter.

* * *

Could the morning be going any more perfectly? The homemade doughnuts were a hit. With promises of more sweet surprises for tomorrow morning, Ava made sure the fridge was stocked with plenty of liquids—it was important to keep the workers hydrated—and gathered up her stuff.

Time to get out of their way. Dust was already flying. Walls were already missing. As curious as she was to see absolutely everything, she knew she’d only be in the way. Besides, she had to work at her family’s bookstore because she had her share of the rent and utilities to pay at month’s end. Not to mention her car payment. Oh, and credit card payments. And her school loans. She grabbed her bag and was in the middle of hunting down her keys when she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone.

“Ava, I’m glad I caught you.” There was Brice, shouldering through the door. “Before you go, I want to go over your final plans.”

“I already did that with Mr. Montgomery. When we talked the other day on the phone, you know, after Chloe’s wedding, you said you wanted to stop by on Monday morning. I assumed that meant you were interested in ordering a cake. But this is why, isn’t it?”

“I can order a cake if you want.”

“It isn’t what I want that’s the question.” Really, that grin of his was infectious. Dashing and charming and utterly disarming. What was a girl to do? How was she supposed to not smile back? She was helpless here. Lord, give me strength, please. “I haven’t forgotten that you tried to ask me out. I mean, I know you changed your mind once I started insulting you.”

“The post-traumatic stress is better, by the way. Although standing in this kitchen might give me a flashback or two.” His grin deepened right along with his dimples. “You’re questioning why I’m here, right? Remember I said that you made my sister happy with her wedding cake?”

“I do.” Leery, that’s what she had to be. On guard. The kindness of his smile was like a tractor beam pulling her in. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start liking this man.

Liking men at all—even platonically—wasn’t a part of her no-man policy. Because that’s how it had happened with Ken, the chef she dated about five months back, and that had ended in disaster. If she didn’t learn lessons from her ten billion mistakes, how was she ever going to feel better about herself?

Brice came closer, his dog trailing after him. “You made Chloe happy, and now I want to return the favor.”

Okay, she could buy that reason. It was actually a nice reason. Which only made him a nicer man in her eyes.

He set a coffee cup down on the metal table between them and gave it a shove in her direction, obviously meant for her. She hadn’t noticed what he’d been carrying.

How could she have not noticed that he was hauling with him a rolled up blueprint, too?

Keep your mind on business, Ava, she ordered herself. Really, it was that smile of Brice’s. It ought to come with a surgeon general’s warning. Beware: Might Have the Gravitational Pull of a Black Hole And Suck You Right In.

“I know you’ve gone over the plans with my partner.” Brice plopped the blueprints on the metal worktable and spread out them out with quick efficiency. He anchored each corner with a battered tape measure and hammer he plucked from his tool belt. “But what I want to know is the dream of what you want. The heart of it. Beyond the computer-generated drawings of this place.”

Okay, that wasn’t what she expected and it disarmed her even more. Emotions tangled in her throat and made her voice thick and strange sounding. “I showed Mr. Montgomery a few pictures of what I had in mind.”

“I’d like to see them.”

Their gazes met, and a connection zinged between them. A sad ache rolled through her and she didn’t know why. She refused to let herself ask. Instead, she fumbled through the top drawer in the battered cabinets. She’d left the magazine pictures here to show the woodworker, just in case.