Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings. Jillian Hart

      “New car payments. Now that’s scary. Which is why I’m glad I’ve given up on dating. Who cares if I ever get married?”

      “You do.”

      “Too true.” Ava sighed. “I’ve got a few more minutes to finish up, and then I’m good to go.”

      Aubrey brought the vehicle to a slow stop at the curb outside the window. She leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. “You brought a change of clothes, right? Or are you going to the movies like that?”

      “I knew I forgot something.” Ava snapped the phone shut. Who needed a man when she had enough disaster in her life?

      Too bad the kind of man she needed—perfect in every way, no selfishness, no flaws or questionable morals—didn’t exist.

      So what was a nice girl to do? Settle for Mr. So-So or Marginally Moral? As if!

      Ava unlocked the door for Aubrey and went back to work. There was the wedding cake in all its loveliness, fresh and beautiful like the new promise a wedding should be. But would she ever know what that new promising love felt like? No.

      Disappointed, she grabbed a clean spatula from the drawer by the sink and went back to work, making sugar roses. Trying not to dwell on the sadness that was buried so deep inside she could almost pretend it didn’t exist. She didn’t want to live her life without knowing true love.

      But with the men she kept running into, she had no other choice.

       Chapter Two

      The next morning, Brice pulled into the country club’s parking lot and killed the engine. It was 8:53 a.m. Hadn’t Ava promised the cake would be delivered by nine?

      He climbed out into the hot sunshine, made hotter by the monkey suit he had to wear. He hooked a finger beneath his tie and tugged until he had a little more breathing room. After remoting the door locks, he hadn’t gone five steps before his cell rang. He thumbed it from his pocket. Seeing his sister’s number on the call screen made his step lighter. “Having cold feet yet?”

      “No way. I can’t wait to get married. I don’t have a single doubt. Where are you?”

      “Where do you think?”

      “Ha! You’re up to something. You’re not answering me.” She sounded happy, her voice light and easy.

      Brice was glad for his little sister. He wouldn’t mind having that kind of happiness in his life. He checked his Rolex. Another minute had ticked by. He shouldered through the club’s main door. “Where I am is none of your business. Is Mom giving you problems?”

      “When isn’t she giving me problems? She means well. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself so I don’t flip out. She’s made two of my bridesmaids cry. She’s decided the wedding planner isn’t capable and is trying to take over.”

      “Do you need me to come run interference?”

      “Do you know what I need you to do?” Chloe sounded as if she was very glad he’d asked. “I’d love it if you could swing by the club and check on the cake.”

      I know what you’re up to little sister, he thought. But he didn’t mind. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Ava since he’d left her shop yesterday.

      It ate at him that she thought he was the groom. She was right—from her mistaken perspective he did look like a Mr. Yuck. Now, that was a misperception he had to change, even if he had to show her two forms of ID to do it.

      Because he didn’t want to encourage his sister, he tried to sound indifferent. Not at all interested. “Tell me what you know about this baker you went with.”

      “Ha! You like her. I know you do.”

      “I don’t know her.” Yet. But he intended to change that.

      As he began looking around the room, he spotted her through the closed French doors into the ballroom and he froze in place. Ava. Seeing her was like the first light of dawn rising, and that was something he’d never felt before. Ever.

      “I met Ava when we were volunteering at the community church’s shelter kitchen.” Chloe sounded very far away, although the cell connection was crystal clear. “She’s sweet and kind and hysterical. We had a great time, until they asked her to leave.”

      What had she said? Brice’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t seem to focus. All he could think of was Ava. Her thick, shiny hair was tied up into a haphazard ponytail, bouncing in time with her movements. She was busily going over the cake, checking each colorful flower and sparkling golden accent.

      She hadn’t noticed him yet and seemed lost in her own world. She had a set of earbuds in, probably listening to a pocket-sized digital music player. She wore jeans and a yellow T-shirt that said on the back “Every Kind of Heaven” in white script.

      Was the saying true? It had to be. She did look like everything sweet and good in the world.

      “Brice? Are you listening to me?”

      He felt dazed, as if he’d been run over by a bus. He couldn’t orient himself in place and time. Any minute Ava would look up, and when she saw him, she’d leap to the same conclusion as before—that he was Mr. Yuck. If he didn’t act quickly, would she start lobbing frosting at him?

      He’d never quite had that effect on a woman before.

      “Look, Chloe. I gotta go. Call if you need anything, okay?”

      “Sure. You’ll make sure Ava doesn’t need any help, right? She’s just starting her business and she hasn’t hired anyone yet. She’ll need some assistance with all the favors we ordered. Remember, if you change your mind and decide to bring a date to my wedding, feel free.”

      “Sure. Right,” he said vaguely.

      Ava. He was having the toughest time concentrating on anything else. His thoughts kept drifting to the woman on the other side of the door.

      When he opened it, he heard a lightly muttered, “Oops!”

      Ava’s voice made his senses spin.

      Think, Brice. He clicked off his phone and stepped into the ballroom.

      Morning light spilled through the long row of closed French doors and onto her. She looked tinier than he remembered. Maybe it was that she had such a big personality that she gave the impression of stature. She was surprisingly petite with slender lines and almost skinny arms and legs. There was no one else helping. How she’d delivered that big cake by herself was a mystery. It had to be heavy.

      He knew the moment she sensed his presence. The line of her slender shoulders stiffened. Every muscle went completely rigid. She pulled the earbuds out of her ears, turning toward him in one swift movement.

      “You.” If looks could kill, he’d at least be bleeding. “What are you doing here? You’re just like Darrin Fullerton. He showed up when I was delivering the cake to beg me not to say anything to his bride. He’d been drunk, he’d said, and didn’t know what he was doing when he propositioned me. As if that’s any excuse!”

      Quick, Brice, look innocent. He held up both hands in surrender. “Wait. I’m nothing like that Fullerton guy. I’m a completely innocent best man. Really.”

      “Innocent? I don’t think so.”

      Ava gave him her best squinty-eyed look. He was bigger than she remembered, a good six feet tall. When she’d shoved him out the door of her bakery, it had been like trying to move a bulldozer.

      She went up on tiptoe so she could glare at him directly, not exactly eye to eye, but it was the best she