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Every Kind of Heaven. Jillian HartЧитать онлайн книгу.

Every Kind of Heaven - Jillian Hart


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make you do it? A man like you doesn’t deserve a nice wife like her. What kind of man would do that to the woman he was about to marry?”

      He chuckled. Actually chuckled, the sound rich as cream. His dimples deepened. Tiny, attractive laugh lines crinkled around his kind, warm brown eyes.

      That was the problem. He didn’t look like a cheater. He looked like a nice guy. What did a girl do in a world where icky men could look as good as the nice ones?

      She’d had this problem before. This is why she had a newly instated policy of staying away from every last one of them, unless they needed to buy a cake from her, of course. She intended to stick to her current no-man policy one hundred percent. “This is the last time I’m telling you to leave.”

      “Okay, stand down soldier.” He held up both hands as if he were surrendering. “I’ll go. But please accept my apology. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

      “Obviously you weren’t thinking at all. Or you thought that I looked easy, and let me tell you, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

      “Ava McKaslin, you look like class to me. I can’t help noticing that you aren’t happy with my interest.”

      “You got that right. Hey! You’re not heading toward the door.”

      “We’re not done discussing the cake.” He had the audacity to grin again.

      That grin became more charming each time he used it, Ava thought, making him look like the absolute perfect guy.

      She’d been fooled by dimples and charm too many times before. “The cake will be ready and delivered at the country club’s service entrance by nine tomorrow morning, as agreed. There. Discussion done.”

      “Chloe will be relieved. You aren’t going to mention this little misunderstanding to her, right?”

      Didn’t that take the prize? “I don’t know. I may have to consult my sisters and my minister on this one. She should know the kind of man she’s marrying.”

      “I’m not the groom.”

      “Oh, sure you’re not.” Ava rolled her eyes. Some men would resort to anything. Men like him had made her give up dating. Perhaps forever. Good thing she’d vowed to turn all her energy to making a success of her business, because it would be impossible to make marriage work considering the men running around these days.

      She reloaded her spatula with frosting. “You’re not gone yet.”

      He sighed, resigned as he backed through the kitchen doorway. “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding, huh?”

      “Not if I can help it.” Really, what gave this guy the idea that she was interested? “I’d better follow you to the door to make sure you really leave. Then I’m going to lock it, so no more riffraff can get in.”

      “At least I’m not the backdoor burglar, or you would have really been in trouble. That spatula loaded with frosting wouldn’t be much of a weapon against a revolver.” He paused in the front door, framed by the brilliant June sunshine. His grin went cosmic. “By the way, you have frosting on your nose. It’s cute. Real cute.”

      “You’re not so attractive, Mr. Yuck.”

      “Ava, listen. I’m not the groom. When you deliver the cake, stick around for the wedding. You’ll see I’m the best man. So, how about it?”

      She grabbed his arm and gave him a shove. It was impossible not to notice he felt like solid steel. Once he’d rocked backwards a step, she was able to slam the door. Not that he was harmful, she thought as she threw the deadbolt, but she’d had enough of not-so-stellar men.

      So why did she gravitate to the front windows that gave her a perfect view of the parking lot?

      Because she wanted to make sure he left, the horrible man, trying to pick up a woman on the night before his wedding. Despicable.

      It was hard to believe a human being was capable of behaving so badly, but she’d been propositioned like that before. Three wedding cakes ago. Darrin Fullerton had thought that when she delivered the two-tier caramel coconut cake that she was ready to serve up something else, too. It still shocked her. Too many men needed to spend more time reading their Bibles. Filling their minds with uplifting and spiritual subjects. Learning to recite the Psalms. List the seven deadly sins. That kind of thing.

      The groom climbed into a bright red luxury sports car—not surprising—and zipped away. As he passed by the shop’s glassed front, his driver’s side window whipped down and he lifted his designer aviator sunglasses to give her a wink.

      Horrible. Anger turned her vision to pure crimson. Seconds passed until she could see normally again. The parking lot was empty, the red sports car long gone.

      Her cell phone chimed. The cheerful jingle came from very near. She looked down and found it in her apron pocket. The display said it was her twin sister, Aubrey. “Howdy.”

      “I’m just pulling up into the lot. I can see your frowny face from here.”

      “I have more than a frowny face on. It’s my down-on-men face.”

      “Wow. What happened?”

      “Oh, another groom trying to get one last party in before he commits.” Ava spotted her bright yellow SUV cautiously creeping across the empty lot. Her sister had borrowed it and was coming closer. “What is it with men and commitment? I don’t get why it’s so terrifying. It’s not any more frightening than a lot of things. Like premature baldness.”

      “Crow’s feet.”

      “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


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