Jillian Hart - Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings - Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings

“I’ll tell you after the movie.” Ava shrugged. Some things she didn’t even want to talk about, even with her twin. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she knew it made Aubrey sad to be shut out like that, but she didn’t want to share every detail.

She wanted to do things right for a change—not just try really hard and then fail, but to really stay focused and careful and committed. One day, maybe she could be the girl who didn’t make a mess, who didn’t insult Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor or who frustrated people so much they simply left her for good.

As Aubrey bowed her head, beginning the blessing, Ava bowed her head, too. But she added a silent prayer to Aubrey’s. Show me the way, Lord. Please, I don’t want to mess up anymore. Show me how to be different. Better .

There was no answer, just the click of the remote as Aubrey hit a button. The TV flared to life, showing a classic movie with a silver-screen hero. Maybe if she met a man like that, she might make an exception to her no-man policy.

She grabbed her fork and dug into the cashew chicken, but did she pay attention to the movie? No. Who was she thinking about?

Brice Donovan and how he’d looked like a real gentleman in his tux. How he’d looked like one of her forgotten dreams when he’d been standing in the full brightness of the morning sun, looking as vibrant and as substantial as a legend come true. But it was just a trick of the light. Legends didn’t exist in real life, and real love didn’t happen to her.

It was a beautiful Monday morning, and Ava was on her way to meet the construction dudes. Okay, in truth, she was going to ply them with her special batch of homemade doughnuts and signature coffee. She might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but she wasn’t the dimmest. It was only common sense that people worked better when they were well fueled.

This renovation was a step toward her dream. Tangible and real, and all the hammering and sawing and dust to come would transform the dingy little place into a baker’s delight. This was fabulous, something to celebrate, right?

Right. At least, she should be feeling so buoyant with happiness that she ought to be floating. But sadly her happiness felt subdued and superficial like icing on the cake, and nothing deeper. Why?

She’d been down a little ever since Brice Donovan’s call. Did that make any sense?

No. So what was all this being sad stuff about?

Concentrate on the positive, Ava .

She screeched into the closest parking space since her favorite spot—right beneath the shade of a broad-leafed maple—was already taken by a big forest green pickup truck. It was the ostentatious kind that looked as if it cost more than a house. There was a lot of chrome glinting in the low-rising sun and big lights on top of a custom cab. It probably belonged to one of the construction guys.

Yep, there was one standing on the sidewalk with his back to her. He seemed to be looking over the front of the shop with a contractor’s discerning eye.

She cut the engine and grabbed her cell from the console and her bag from the front passenger seat. It was still early, only ten minutes to seven. She’d have time to get the coffee canisters set up and the doughnuts laid out before the rest of the workers arrived. She elbowed the door open, stepped down from the seat and the second her shoe touched the ground she felt it. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

The construction worker hadn’t moved. He was still staring at the front windows—and she could see his reflection as clearly as she could see her own. He looked remarkably like Brice Donovan. That handsome face, sculpted cheekbones and chin, straight nose and strong jaw were all the same. Except for one thing—how could that be Brice? It made no sense. She gave the door a shove to close it.

She had Brice Donovan on the brain. That’s why her emotions were all off-kilter. That’s why she wasn’t fully enjoying the beautiful morning or this first momentous day of construction.

Brice Donovan. It wasn’t as if she even liked him a tiny bit. Really. So what was going on? Maybe it was stress, she decided as she circled around to the back of the vehicle and realized she hadn’t hit the door release.

No problem. She looked down at her cell phone. Where were her keys?

The automatic locks clicked shut all on their own.

Great. Wonderful. Terrific. She’d done it again! Why wasn’t she paying better attention?

Well, if she hadn’t been thinking of Brice Donovan, then she wouldn’t have been distracted. See? This was why she had to stick to her no-man policy—all the way. No exceptions. Even thinking of him just a little caused problems.

She leaned her forehead against the rear window and took a deep breath. All she needed was to call Aubrey. Plus, there was a silver lining in all this. At least this time she hadn’t locked her cell phone in, too. Hey, it could be worse.

She flipped open her phone when a startling familiar baritone rumbled right behind her. “Let me guess. You’re in need of rescuing again.”

Brice Donovan? She turned around and there he was, looking totally macho in workmen’s clothes. The lettering on the light gray T-shirt he wore said it all: D&M Construction, the name of the company she’d hired for the renovation. How on earth did he have a shirt with that company name? Did he work for them?

Then it hit her. Maybe the D stood for Donovan. Wow .

He jammed his hands into his pockets, emphasizing the muscled set of his shoulders. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“Surprised.” So surprised she had to lean against the fender for support. “What are you doing here?”

“Rafe Montgomery was going to do the job, but I sweet-talked him into trading.”

“Lucky me.” Ava’s mind swirled. Montgomery must be the M in the company. Rafe had been a nice man who’d been her contact. “But why are you here in workman’s clothes. Aren’t you like an investment broker or something?”

“That would be my dad. Rafe Montgomery and I got to talking one night while we were studying for our graduate school exams. What we were really dreading wasn’t taking the test, it was being cooped up in an office all day. Just like our dads. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind putting in a good hard day’s work, but I felt put in a box. It wasn’t for either of us. So we pooled our resources and went into business.”

That was the most unlikely story she’d ever heard. MBA dudes who built stuff? “I’d like to think you had woodworking training. A certificate of carpentry competence.”

“I’m good at what I do, believe me.”

Oh, she did believe him. And how was it possible that he looked even better dressed for work than he had the other day in a tux? Today he looked genuine, capable and very manly.

“Let me get a coat hanger.” He strode to the green pickup and opened the crew-cab door. A big golden retriever tumbled out and ping-ponged in place in front of Brice, tongue lolling. “Whoa there, boy.”

Okay, she melted. She couldn’t help it—she was a softy when it came to dogs. “What’s his name?”

Goofy brown eyes fastened on her. That big doggy mouth swung wide, showing dozens of sharp teeth. The huge canine launched toward her, tongue out and grinning, moving so fast he was a golden-brown blur.

“Rex, no! Come back here.” Brice reached for his collar to catch him.

Too late.

Ava didn’t have time to brace herself, because the dog was already leaping on her, plopping one front paw on either side of her neck, almost hugging her. His tongue swiped across her chin. Happy chocolate eyes studied hers with sheer joy.