Okay, it sounded like a good plan, but there was a downside here—did she want to be alone with Brice? No. Was she mentally prepared to be alone with him? Not a chance.
She grabbed her plate and her phone and followed him to the more casual patio area, where there were plenty of tables available. Brice nodded toward one of the waiters, who gestured to a set of unoccupied tables along the railing.
“I was hoping to catch you tomorrow morning.” Brice was entirely too close as he leaned to pull out a chair for her. “But seeing you charge through the restaurant a few minutes ago seemed like a sign. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”
“Nope.” What she minded was being alone with him. How was she going to hold on to her policy now? She caught a hint of his spicy aftershave. “After all, we’ve agreed to be friends.”
“Exactly.” He smiled his killer smile, the one with the dimples.
Did he know what that did to a woman? It made every innocent, friendly thought vanish and the ones about sweet romance and marriage proposals surge forth like a hurricane hitting shore. That part of her, which always panicked when she got too close to anyone new, started to tremble.
There was no need to panic. This was only business, right? Except as he helped her scootch her chair up to the table, it definitely didn’t feel friendly.
He took the chair across the table from her, and a girl might think that would be safer, with the span of the table between them, but somehow he seemed closer. Much too close.
Don’t wish, she reminded herself and bit into a zucchini slice. “If it’s bad news about the renovation, you can’t just spring it on me. It’s best to work up to it. Want some?”
“Sure.” He grabbed a coated, deep-fried slice and crunched into it. “I have some suggestions for changes for the finished woodwork. What Rafe drew up for you is nice, but it’s plain.”
“It’s what I can afford.”
“You can afford this, too.” He took another slice. His manner was casual, his overall tone was friendly, but there was something intense beneath the surface, something that hadn’t been there before. “I think you’ll be happier with it. It won’t add any time if I get started now. I mostly do the jobs with custom woodwork.”
“I’m still trying to picture that. I know, I’ve seen you with a tool belt, but it doesn’t still compute.” She said this without thinking and watched his face harden. Not in a mean way, but guarded, like she’d struck a sore spot. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot of integrity working to perfect a craft and doing your best. It’s how I justify my baking. But I look at you and think, white-collar professional.”
“It’s a big issue in my family right now. My mom and dad have always just assumed I’d step into place at the family business and take over the firm when Dad’s ready to retire. And he’s starting to think about it, so they’re starting to get serious.”
“Aren’t they supportive of what you’re doing now?”
“They’re tolerating it.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Ava dragged a zucchini slice through the dip and bit into it. “My family is everything to me. I would be nothing without them.”
“You seem tight with your sisters.”
“Yeah. I’d never be able to open my own bakery without my family’s help. I got my business loan from my grandmother—talk about fear of failure. I don’t want to let her down. And Spence helped me with my business plan and buying the property. My sisters are helping me with the finishing stuff. Katherine took me to all the flea markets and swap meets and secondhand stores in the state, I think, and we got a bunch of bistro tables and chairs that Aubrey is refinishing for me in her studio. My stepsister Danielle has promised to make the window blinds and valences. That kind of thing. And that’s not including the pep talks when I need them.”
“So, they’ve got a lot of confidence in you. It must be nice to have the people you love most wanting what will make you happy.”
“It is.” Ava’s eyes shone with emotion and she dunked her zucchini into the dip. “It’s also a lot of people to disappoint. Something I could never stand to do.”
He could see that about her. Brice’s throat tightened. “I can’t stand how much this has upset my parents either. It’s been a huge strain on our relationship.”
“They want the best for you, though?”
He could see from the hopeful trust in her eyes that she didn’t understand. “They do. I know they love me, but the truth is, I’m not what they hoped for in a son. I wrestled with it for a long time. I tried things their way, but I’m not cut out for spending a day in an office, investing other people’s money. I like the work I do, but they see it as too blue collar.”
“And that would be wrong because…?”
He swallowed his embarrassment over his parents. They were too set in their ways and opinions to change. He tried to dismiss the pain behind it, and the weight of his father’s disappointments. His father who was a good, loving dad. Love and family were always complicated. “Dad thinks I’m not going to be happy unless I have a white-collar career, but I think it’s the appearance thing. They care too much what other people think.”
“It’s hard to know other people think you’re a dope or a loser. It has happened to me too many times to count. I’ve become sort of numb to it.”
He choked down a hoot of laughter. She said it with a twinkle in her eyes. She always surprised him. “Exactly. I’ve become a little numb on this subject, where my parents are concerned. My mom is still holding out hope I’ll come to my senses and go to law school or medical school. Or into the seminary.”
“I can’t picture you doing any of that. I’m sure you’d be good at any profession you chose, but you can only be yourself. Who God meant you to be.” She lowered her gaze and stared hard at the table’s surface between them. “At least, that’s what my older sister keeps telling me.”
“She’s right.”
He considered the woman across from him, with her blond hair windblown and going every which way. She was lovelier every time he saw her. Today her cheeks were slightly flushed from what he guessed to be a busy day. She had that breathless look about her. Her words had been rolling around in his head all day. It’s an ironclad, nonnegotiable no-man, no-dating policy.
He couldn’t give up hope completely. Business first. And when the renovation was done, then he’d see where he stood with her.
At that exact moment her cell rang. She checked it and turned it off. “It’s Aubrey. Food’s served. I’m sorry, but I’m starving.”
He stood to help her with her chair. “You’ll stop by tomorrow when I’m there so I can show you what I have in mind?”
“I can do that.”
“No more drive-by bakings?”
“Now, I can’t promise that.” She swished away.
She was so small and fragile, so whimsical and feminine, that a vibrant, steel-like emotion came to life in his heart, overtaking him. He watched her go with a mix of care and affection. He really liked her.
She stopped at the end of the row of tables. “Oh, I forgot to ask about the muffins. Did the men like them?”
“The monsters were the hit of the day.”
She flashed him her brightest smile, the one that showed her dazzling spirit. The one that caught his heart like a hook on a line and dug deep. The hook did not leave as she walked away with her gait snapping and her golden hair swaying across her back. Even when she was out of his sight it remained, inexplicably.
* * *
Without