Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings. Jillian Hart
Читать онлайн.| Название | Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Jillian Hart |
| Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn |
Two fan-favorite McKaslin Clan novels in one by beloved author Jillian Hart
Every Kind of Heaven
Ava McKaslin has a strict to-do list for her life: making sweets and taking care of her family. Love is too unreliable for this busy bakery owner. Until she hires Brice Donovan as her contractor. Brice has adored Ava from afar. Now that she needs his help, Brice wants to show her how joyful life can be when there is love.
Everyday Blessings
When Aubrey McKaslin visits reclusive photographer William Corey, she finds a man who’s given up on life. He claims he’s happy alone in his mountain retreat, but Aubrey doesn’t believe it for a minute. She sees a man who’s looking for companionship. Spending time together awakens deeper feelings in them both, but could William trust in their newfound love to see a future together?
Praise for Jillian Hart and her novels
“Jillian Hart’s Every Kind of Heaven is a warm, tender story in the McKaslin Clan miniseries.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Jillian Hart’s compassionate story will most certainly please readers.”
—RT Book Reviews on Everyday Blessings
“It’s a pleasure to read this achingly tender story.”
—RT Book Reviews on Her Wedding Wish
“A heartwarming story with likable characters.”
—RT Book Reviews on His Country Girl
“Jillian Hart conveys heart-tugging emotional struggles.”
—RT Book Reviews on Sweet Blessings
Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
Contents
Every Kind of Heaven
Jillian Hart
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
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