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.
But turning her back to him gave her no sense of privacy or relief from the aching she felt. Somehow she managed to face him again, but her hands were shaking. She didn’t want to think too hard on the reason for that either. “Here. I’m not looking for exactly this. But something warm and whimsical and unique. In my price range.”
She spread the three full-color pictures on the metal table, turning them so they were right side up for his inspection. Long ago, she’d torn them from magazines she’d come across, tucking them away for the when and if of this dream. The white frame of the pages had dulled to yellow over time, and the ragged edges where she’d torn them from the magazine looked tattered. But the bright glass displays and the intricate woodwork remained as bright and as promising as ever.
“It’s probably beyond my budget, I know, that’s what Mr. Montgomery said. But he thought he could scale it down and still get some of the feeling of the craftsmanship.”
Brice said nothing as he studied the photos, sipping his coffee, taking his time. “Why baking? Why not open a bistro? Or stay working at your family’s bookstore?”
Surprise shot across her face. “You know about the bookstore? Wait, Chloe knows. She probably told you.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Everyone knew about the bookstore. Ava’s grandmother’s family, a wealthy and respected family and one of the area’s original settlers, had owned the store forever. “I need to know what this means to you before I start on the woodwork. Isn’t that what you do before you design a cake for someone?”
“Exactly.” She took a sip of the sweetened coffee and studied him through narrowed eyes, as if she were truly seeing him for the first time.
He could see her heart, shining in