She scooped a short spatula into a stainless steel bowl, fluffy with snow-white frosting. “Did you want to come back when I’m done?”
“I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind.”
“Stay? You don’t want to do that. You’d be bored.”
“I doubt that. I could watch you work. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful, the work you do.” He took a breath. Gathered his courage. “If you don’t mind, when you’re done, we could talk, just you and me.”
Ava stared over the top frills of the cake. She blinked hard, as if she were trying to bring him into focus. Or make sense of what he was saying. “Talk?”
“Sure. We’ve met before, don’t you remember? Maybe we can go down the street for a cup of coffee. Get to know each other better.”
“What?” The spatula dropped from her supple artist’s fingers and clattered on the metal tabletop. “You want to get to know me better?”
Uh-oh. She didn’t look happy about that. He’d never had that reaction from a woman before. Okay, maybe he’d jumped the gun. “Do you have a boyfriend? I should have asked first. I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring and I assumed—”
She cut him off, circling around the table like a five-star army general. “You assumed? What’s wrong with you?”
He couldn’t believe how mad she looked. “Hey, what did I do? I just wanted to talk.”
“Talk? Oh, is that what men like you call it? You need to get some morals.”
Well, at least she was a lady with serious principles. He liked that. He respected Ava’s inner fiber. It was a little passionate, but he liked that, too. He held up both hands, a show of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know you were attached. Why wouldn’t you be? Look at you. Of course you have a boyfriend. He probably worships at your feet.”
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend, but what about you and Chloe? You’re getting married! You should leave. Go.”
Normally, he might take offense at her dismissal, but he didn’t seem to mind.
No boyfriend, huh? Okay, call him interested. No, call him dazzled, that’s what he was. She fascinated him, all pure inner fire and feeling. But this wasn’t going well. Usually he got a better response than this.
“What am I going to have to tell your bride?” Her sweetheart-shaped face turned pink with fury. “The poor woman thinks she’s getting married to Mr. Right. Little does she know you’re Mr. Yuck, wanting to get to know me the evening before your wedding. I don’t think you want to chat either!”
So, that was it. Whew. For a minute there, he was afraid she really didn’t like him. “You misunderstood.”
“Misunderstood? Oh, I don’t think so.”
Men, Ava fumed. What was wrong with the species? This was why she wasn’t married. Too many of the gender were just like this guy, and nothing made her madder. Spitting mad. “I’m a good Christian girl. Get a clue, buddy. Are you misunderstanding me now?”
“Uh, no. I noticed the gold cross. You look like a very nice Christian girl to me.”
He was being agreeable now, but it didn’t matter. “Poor Chloe. Now what do I do? Do I tell her? Or do I 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 was 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 backward a step, she was able to slam the door. Not that he was harmful, she thought as she threw the dead bolt, 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