Joyelle chuckled. Her grandma was her biggest cheerleader and she loved her dearly for that. But Joyelle had this under control. Besides, it wasn’t anything more than an annoyance. She didn’t need anyone, especially her grandma, coming to her rescue. And this is what I get for even telling her.
“Grandma, if he won’t speak to me, what makes you think he’ll talk to you?”
“Cause I’m the cutest little old lady there is. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told by one man at the fruit stand.”
“Wait a minute. What man? Grandma, are you…dating?” It wasn’t like she needed permission, but Joyelle watched out for her. She didn’t need someone conning her grandma out of her life savings or anything like that. She’d seen enough talk shows to know how that worked.
“I’m almost ninety.”
“That didn’t answer my question, Grandma,” Joyelle prodded again.
Grandma laughed. “Well, one of us has to! If you won’t, then I guess I will.”
Joyelle didn’t find any humor in that. “Grandma, you should be proud of me for putting all my time and effort into making my shop successful.”
“I am. But all your time? You’re young. And I hate to say it, but you won’t be forever. This is the time to start looking. If you don’t, you’ll never find anyone.”
“Grandma, I’m only thirty. That is far from being an old maid,” she clarified.
“You think so? It seems like just yesterday that I was going to dances to meet boys. Look at me now. The farthest I go is the market. And even then, when some young man offers to carry my bags, he just means to my car, not my home.”
Joyelle didn’t even want to think about her grandma in that way, but there was a saying: even embers in a fire burn hot. Has to be all those romance books she reads. If she had a choice, she’d keep her grandma just as she was. She was out living her life, which was more than most would say about Joyelle. It’d been more than a year since her last date, and that ended up with her taking a taxi home. Maybe I should try going to the fruit stand, too.
She wasn’t about to start competing with her grandma, but it was a reminder that she was working too many hours. For that, she was grateful. “You’re right again, Grandma. I need to get out more. There is something going on in town. I’ve seen signs, but I’m not sure what it’s all about.”
“Doesn’t matter. Go! And who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone. Oh, I hope he’s tall, dark, and handsome. That’s the way I like them.”
“Grandma, I’m not bringing him home for you.”
In a serious tone, she replied, “So you’re thinking of bringing him home? Now that might be a bit fast. Back in my day”
“No. I meant…oh, never mind. I should know better by now. You always loved teasing me. One of these days, Grandma, I’m going to be a step ahead of you.” It was nice that they still could laugh and joke like this. Someday it’d be gone, and Joyelle couldn’t bear to imagine how she’d function without her.
Her grandma chuckled. “You can try, but older is wiser.”
“Good. Since you’re so wise, how about we work on a new recipe for the bakery? I want to try something new. Any suggestions?” One thing she could count on is her grandma watching all those food shows on TV. That is - when she wasn’t watching a game show or a soap opera. When would she have time to date the guy from the fruit stand anyway? She’s always in front of the TV.
“I have been in the mood for something pumpkin. Why don’t you let me see what I have and I can call you back.”
“Oh, I think they should be cookies,” Joyelle replied.
“No. They should be bars, with cream cheese. Oh, I think I know exactly which one you should make. Now remember, no cheating and using canned pumpkin. You’re going to have to make your own fresh pumpkin puree.”
“Of course, Grandma. I know your motto,” she smiled. Always give your best and you’ll be the best. Without her grandma’s help, she wasn’t sure where her shop would be. Whenever things got tough, or she had a second thought about whether she could make it work, she knew exactly who to call. The world would be such a different place if everyone had someone so loving and supportive in their life.
“You know it would be easier for me to come and show you how to do this in person,” her grandma offered.
Joyelle missed cooking together. But that was only one of the things that she loved about her grandma. “Only if you promise to make me that special blend of tea.”
She could picture her grandma grinning. “Okay, how about I come by tomorrow morning before the shop opens?”
“Grandma, we open at seven o’clock.”
“And I’m up at five. When you get to be my age, you can nap all day if you let yourself. So I’m still up before the birds.”
“Okay, so are you thinking six?” She always had to be up long before that if she wanted things baked fresh that day.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place. It’s been…”
“Three weeks. That’s not long. And nothing has changed.”
“Well, it seems a lot longer than that. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have the kettle on!” They said their goodbyes and hung up.
When Joyelle was eighteen and decided to relocate from the east coast to Denver, she couldn’t believe her grandma would insist on moving, too. When Joyelle said she didn’t want her grandma to move away from her life, her grandma told her, “You are my life.”
There wasn’t a day that went by that she wasn’t thrilled her grandma moved close by. Living under the same roof, well, that would’ve been too much. And from their conversation, her grandma needed some privacy as well. But for now, Joyelle knew her smile was going to be even brighter tomorrow once her grandma arrived.
She slipped the cell phone into her apron and was about to head back inside the shop when she noticed the garage door opening at Wild Custom Rides. Even though she didn’t want to hear the noise that was about to follow, she did want to see who was coming out. She had no idea what Horace looked like, but he had to show his face eventually.
Unfortunately it wasn’t who she was hoping to see. He looked just as fierce as he had yesterday when she went over with her box of goodies. But as he passed by her, his shirt unbuttoned and his eyes covered again by those dark shaded glasses, he looked….sexy as hell.
She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Who wouldn’t notice the lovely rippled abs and bulging biceps as his motorcycle roared only feet away. There was no pretending she hadn’t been looking, either, because with a mind of its own, her hand flew up to give him a wave.
Please don’t have seen. But he responded in the same manner. It wasn’t much, and it didn’t seem to soften his look any, but it was a start.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll bring pumpkin cookies.
Joyelle chuckled as she opened the door and went back inside her shop. Maybe I’ll send Grandma instead.
* * *
Ace wished he’d turned the other way, but once he pulled out it was too late. Joyelle was standing on the curb as though hoping he’d stop by and…what – chat? That wasn’t going to happen. He’d never get a damn thing done.
But there was a part of him that felt a twinge of guilt for being an ass. She was making an effort. For what, he didn’t know. Ace really didn’t care either. He knew how horrible that sounded even to himself. If he wanted to continue to be successful, he needed to work on his…customer service. Not that he wanted to be anything like Joyelle, but her customers seemed…happy.
It could be the fact her sweets were possibly the best in Denver. Was he about to admit that to her? Hell no. She’d probably show up every day with a box and he’d end up looking more like one of her muffins, even with working out at the gym every day.
But he couldn’t avoid speaking with her any longer. They both owned their businesses, so it wasn’t like either of them was going to up and relocate. Besides, he really couldn’t put his finger on what it was about her that irr
itated him. If anything, he found her to be…nice. Most people would appreciate that character trait, but Ace had trouble believing in nice. The past had shown him that you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. What if it was all an act? And the real Joyelle was an evil, manipulating bitch?
A horn blared and pulled his focus back to the road. Someone had run the red light, and if it hadn’t been for the jarring honk, he might not have noticed it.
On a bike, being broadsided by a pickup truck could be fatal. Definitely not something he would’ve gotten up from. Ace liked the fact he wasn’t required to wear a helmet, but now, with the near-collision, he almost wished he was.
How was it that a woman he didn’t want anything to do with seemed to be a distraction even when she wasn’t nearby? There was only one way to settle this.
Ace should’ve been picking up the parts for the custom bike, but instead, he put on his directional and pulled a u-turn. What better time to thank her for the box of goodies than the present?
He pulled over to the side of the road and called Pete’s Parts.
“Hey Pete, I’m not going to make it today. I’ll be in first thing in the morning.”
“I thought you said you needed this ASAP. You do know I worked hard on getting it here?”
“Thanks, but something came up,” Ace replied. He didn’t owe Pete any further explanation.
“Don’t be bitching at me when the bike isn’t ready for your customer,” Pete snarled.
They might be friends, but he and Pete had argued in the past about cutting it close on deadlines. That’s why Pete went the extra mile this time. Fuck. He hated to admit it, but Pete was right. If he didn’t pick up the parts tonight, the bike wouldn’t be ready tomorrow. Whatever he had to say to Joyelle would need to wait. Business always came first.
“I’m on my way,” Ace said.
“So I shouldn’t close up?” Pete asked.
“No. And I’ll buy you a beer for your time.”
Pete laughed. “Oh. Big spender. Save your money. I’m already drinking a cold one now. Cracked it open at five when I figured you weren’t showing.”
Damn. Ace would’ve been fuming if he’d driven there and Pete had left. If it was that late, Tasty Tarts & Sweet Brews would’ve been closed too. So there really was no reason to rush back to the shop.
“I hope you have one for me,” Ace replied.
“What are friends for? Besides, it’s Friday. The night is young and the girls are waiting.”
Ace shook his head. Pete was a good guy, but definitely not popular with the ladies. Ace tried to tell him that maybe if he toned it down a bit, or cut his hair, or changed out of work clothes, maybe…But Pete insisted that they were all just playing hard to get. It was more like…impossible. That didn’t mean Ace wasn’t going to go out to the bar with Pete. Eventually, one of the ladies would have to give in and date Pete. Since he and Pete had a fifty dollar bet on it, Ace wanted to be there, so he wouldn’t have to hear some bullshit story later, and there definitely would be one if Ace blew it off.
“Be there in ten. Gives you time to get ready,” he suggested.
“I practically have to beat them off me now,” Pete laughed, ending the call.
Great. Maybe he drank the entire six-pack.
Chapter 3
It was only ten a.m. and she was wiped out. How was it her grandma looked like she could keep going? Maybe it was because she didn’t do this every day. Or maybe she slept last night instead of dreaming of some sexy biker.
“You’re not listening to me, Joyelle. Is there something on your mind that you want to talk about?” Grandma asked.
“No, ma’am.” That was as good as telling her there was a problem.
“Oh. Is it boy trouble?” she asked.
Joyelle chuckled. “Grandma, I’m a bit old for boy trouble, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care how old they get, there are times they all act like boys. Yet we can’t seem to stay away, now can we?” Grandma asked as she dried the last cookie sheet.
“I don’t think there is any boy in this one. He’s…hard.” Her grandma’s eyes widened and she added, “I mean, in the emotional sense. I’ve tried talking to him and he is so…resistant.”
“Bring him some of your baked goods. No one can resist those.”
So you believe. “Did that two days ago.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
Grandma added, “Maybe he’s been busy and hasn’t had time to reach out.”
“He drove right by me last night when I was closing up.”
Putting the dish towel down she grabbed hold of Joyelle’s hand and led her from the kitchen to inside the shop. “Now sit and tell me everything.”
“Grandma, there isn’t anything to tell. I brought an assorted box of sweets to a neighboring business as a…”
“Wild Custom Rides?” Grandma asked.
Joyelle nodded.
“I see.”
“There is nothing to see, Grandma. I was only trying to be neighborly,” Joyelle defended.
“They build motorcycles. Something you’re not fond of. I can’t see you bringing them anything…edible. Please tell me you weren’t trying to poison them.”
“Grandma!” Joyelle hadn’t been prepared for such a statement.
“Well, that says a lot.”
“What does?” Joyelle asked.
“You thought I was being serious. Which confirms you weren’t going there just to say hello. Have they been bothering you?”
“Yes. Can’t you hear them?” she asked.
“You mean the sound of the motorcycles driving by?” Grandma asked. Joyelle nodded again. “Yes. No different than I can when I’m at my apartment. I find it a lot less bothersome than loud music, you know the kind that seems to echo in your chest. Thump. Thump. Thump.”
Both were annoying to her. “Grandma, you know I don’t…like motorcycles.”
“I understand that. But would you want someone who doesn’t like sweets to be unpleasant to you?”
“Grandma, you know it’s not that simple.” Joyelle had tried to get over her dislike for motorcycles, but it wasn’t easy.
“It wasn’t the motorcycle that hurt you, Joyelle. It was your mother, my daughter. If you want to be angry, be angry at her. God knows I am,” her grandma huffed. “I raised her to be…well, not like that. I guess somewhere I failed.”
She could see the disappointment and sadness in her grandma’s eyes. “You raised her like you did me. And I hope you don’t consider me a failure,” she said, hoping to brighten the moment again.
Grandma smiled. “You, my dear Joyelle, have always been a joy. I can’t remember you ever without a smile on that lovely face of yours.”
“Oh, Grandma, please don’t say it,” she begged. But she did anyway.
“Sweeter than the sweets you bake.”
“Thank you, Grandma.” Not sure everyone agrees with you.
“So, tell me about this man next door.”
“Horace?”
Grandma nodded.
“There’s not much to tell. I’ve never met him. He owns the shop and seems to have some guy working for him. He’s the only one I met.”
“The one who drove right by you?” Grandma asked. She nodded. “I guess that young man needs a talking to.”
“Grandma, he’s older than I am. Or at least I think so. Besides, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s the owner or anything.”
“What’s the difference?” she asked.
“Like the difference when someone owns a home or rents. You can always hope the renter who bothers you moves out,” she explained.
“So he’s bothering you or ignoring you? Or is his ignoring you what bothers you?”
“Grandma, you make this seem so…complicated. It’s not at all.”
Actually, it was. She didn’t want him to stop and talk to her. But when he didn’t, she felt slighted. Obviously she had no idea what she wanted from that man.
At least he did. He wants nothing to do with me.
“You’re right, Joyelle. It really is very simple.”
There was something in her eyes that worried Joyelle. “Grandma, what are you planning?”
Her grandma shook her head and said, “Nothing.” But the ever so slight grin hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Promise me, Grandma, you will not interfere,” Joyelle said in a firm tone. Not that it mattered. Her grandma didn’t even look at her when she replied.
“I wouldn’t think of doing such a thing.”
And the moon is made of cheese and there’s a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow. Tell me another one, Grandma.
Joyelle knew there was no stopping her if her mind was made up. Would Horace even be willing to speak to Grandma? And if he and the mysterious stranger did let her in, they’d better be nice to her. Joyelle might seem like a pussycat, or a cute puppy, but she had sharp claws and definitely would bite if anyone treated her Grandma badly.
I can be pretty intimidating myself.
She was going to need to utilize that when Horace finally agreed to speak with her. The city had approved an expansion for the bakery and Joyelle planned to set up a few tables and chairs out front and around the side of her building, the side that faced Wild Custom Rides. Her gut said Horace was going to put up a stink about it. But that’s what he gets for not attending the city council meeting. Got to stay on top of this stuff.
“Grandma, where are you going?”
“For my daily walk,” she replied.
“Grandma, you promised,” Joyelle reminded.
“Just walking. That’s all,” she said, leaving Joyelle alone in the shop. If it wasn’t for the fact that a return customer had just entered, she’d have offered to go along. Someone has to keep her out of trouble.
Grandma was the most amazing person she knew, but in her old age she lived by her favorite saying: I’m old enough to get away with more.
Horace had no idea what was about to knock on his door. Joyelle almost felt bad for him. Kill ‘em with kindness, Grandma.
Over Joyed Page 2
