Every Kind of Heaven by Jillian Hart Page B

her chest, looking likea middle-aged spinster despite the fact that they’d gone through public school together. “The scones you ordered are here. Talk about amazing. We’re all taking a coffee break. You want to come join us?”
    â€œAva was here?” He hadn’t expected her to be by so fast. He’d figured she would have to make another batch, but she must have made enough originally. He hadn’t planned on that, he’d been busy working on her molding and now he’d missed her.
    Maura shrugged. “I didn’t know you wanted to see her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t run off next time.”
    She gave him that smile that women have, the knowing one that means you aren’t fooling them one bit, and he was floored. Just how many people had guessed about his feelings for Ava?
    â€œI’ve heard her cakes are heavenly.” Maura paused in the doorway, giving that smile again. “When you order next time, remember—we all love chocolate. Don’t forget, now.”
    â€œIt’s a business relationship.” It was the truth. For now. “What makes you think it isn’t?”
    Maura arched one brow and stared pointedly at the pile of wood. “You always take the summer months off, but it’s now June and look, you’re still here. You aren’t fooling me. And for your 4-1-1, she’s really nice. She goes to my church and we’re in the same Bible study. I could put in a good word for you.”
    â€œI can handle it, thanks.”
    â€œIt’s just that I know what happened with Whitney. It wasn’t your fault.” Maura kindly didn’t say more on that topic. “I hope you know what you’re doing. You haven’t dated in a long time.”
    â€œThanks, Maura, but I have a plan.”
    â€œWell, if you need a woman’s opinion, you can always run it by me.” She hesitated again. “Thanks for the scones. They are wonderful.” And finally she was gone, shutting the door tight behind her.
    A plan? That wasn’t what he’d thought to call it before now. He lifted the length of wood from the bench, a smooth piece of oak that would gleam like honey when he was through with it. He had a plan, of sorts. He intended to work hard. To deliver on his promise to Ava. To show her that he could help her with this dream. Maybe—God willing—with all her dreams.
    The problem was, he didn’t know if he could get her to go to dinner with him. It wasn’t looking promising at this moment in time.
    Based on his experience with her so far, he feared that Ava McKaslin might be the Mt. Everest equivalent of dating—a nearly impossible feat to accomplish and not for the faint of heart. A smart man would choose a much smaller mountain that required less effort.
    He, apparently, wasn’t a smart man, but he was a dedicated one and he recognized her value. He set his goggles in place, grabbed another length of oak from the lumber pile. He had long hours of detailing to do and he intended to bring this in on time. He’d work on this dream first.
    Then he’d try to tackle the rest of them.

Chapter Eight
    I n the serenity of her oldest sister’s snazzy kitchen, Ava piped careful scrollwork across the final dozen cookies in the shape of a baby’s shoe. Madeline, the caterer, had subcontracted with her for six dozen specialty cookies for a baby shower and they were going perfectly. It was a good feeling, a relieved feeling. The first she’d had in two days. That’s how long she’d gone without seeing Brice.
    You’d think that would be enough time to get her feelings under control, right? But no, she thought as she piped the final curlicue on the last cookie and stretched her aching back. She had feelings for him, and she liked him. But that didn’t mean she had to actually do anything about it, right?
    She’d been avoiding seeing him. Oh, she’d continued