Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection
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Sweet as Apple Pie © 2002 by Kristin Billerbeck
Cupcakes for Two © 2004 by Birdie L. Etchison
Blueberry Surprise © 2004 by Wanda E. Brunstetter
Bittersweet Memories and Peppermint Dreams © 2004 by Pamela Griffin
Cream of the Crop © 2004 by Tamela Hancock Murray
Apple Annie © 2002 by Joyce Livingston
Angel Food © 2006 by Kristy Dykes
Just Desserts © 2006 by Aisha Ford
Apple Pie in Your Eye © 2004 by Gail Sattler
Print ISBN 978-1-63058-457-3
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63409-136-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-63409-137-4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
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Printed in Canada.
Contents
Sweet as Apple Pie by Kristin Billerbeck
Cupcakes for Two by Birdie L. Etchison
Blueberry Surprise by Wanda E. Brunstetter
Bittersweet Memories and Peppermint Dreams by Pamela Griffin
Cream of the Crop by Tamela Hancock Murray
Apple Annie by Joyce Livingston
Angel Food by Kristy Dykes
Just Desserts by Aisha Ford
Apple Pie in Your Eye by Gail Sattler
SWEET AS APPLE PIE
by Kristin Billerbeck
Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another.
ROMANS 12:10 KJV
Chapter 1
W atching the door isn’t going to make him appear.” Kayli Johnson laughed, but she didn’t tear her gaze from the bakery storefront. “Maybe not, but I don’t want to miss him. I’m going to smile at him today, and maybe he’ll come in.” Kayli’s stomach churned at the very thought of such uncharacteristic boldness.
“In my day men came calling properly. There was none of this spying out the window business.” The stout older woman wiped the glass countertop with vigor. Kayli feared being a dirty appliance in Mrs. Heiden’s path.
She plopped a fist to her hip. “You never had a crush on anyone? Come on, Mrs. Heiden. There was never anyone who set your heart aflame?”
“Never.”
“Then how did you meet Mr. Heiden?”
“He was just lucky, I suppose.”
Kayli let out a short laugh. “I suppose he was at that.” Rearranging the apricot Danish into a more elegant design, she spoke again dreamily. “But this man, Mrs. Heiden”—she erupted into a long sigh—“he is unlike anyone I’ve ever seen around here. I can’t explain it. I want to know who he is and ask him all sorts of questions. Maybe we’re soul mates.” She immediately regretted adding the final bit.
“Rubbish! Maybe you spend too much time watching old romantic movies. A girl your age should get out more, not daydream constantly.”
“I was born a hundred years too late.” Kayli shrugged. “Going out doesn’t interest me much. I would have been perfectly content to pad around my sitting room and wait for suitors to call.”
“You were born at the right time, Kayli. May I remind you a woman wouldn’t have owned a business like this? If she did, a man would be fronting it.”
“So what do you suggest, Mrs. Heiden? Should I accost this man on the street and introduce myself?”
“I suggest you get your dreamy eyes off that window and worry about your chocolate molds. They are nearly ready. Love will come calling when it’s time.”
Kayli gasped. “There he is!” Her heart thumped against her chest, and she closed her eyes. “Please come in—please come in,” she repeated to herself.
Before opening her eyes she heard the jingle of the store bell. Shaking, she blinked several times. He stood before her, in all his masculine splendor.
Light brown hair shorn close to his head and incredible clear green eyes, like the finished edge of glass. She heard herself exhale. His set jaw exuded confidence, and his towering height, probably about six-three, rendered Kayli speechless. Sincerity was in his eyes, and a warmth emanated from him. Something told her immediately he would be a good father. She chastised herself for mentally sharing children with a man she hadn’t yet spoken to. What was wrong with her?
“Hello?”
He waved his hand in front of her dazed eyes, and she nearly collapsed from embarrassment. Where was her voice? She swore she’d talk to him, and now nothing came from her mouth except gurgling noises.
“Good morning.” Mrs. Heiden finally rescued Kayli. “What can we get you?”
“Coffee.”
Kayli had to say something. “How about a cappuccino? It’s on the house today.” She forced the words and they sounded completely unnatural, as if they’d been thrown at her and she were a puppet fronting the conversation.
“Cappuccino?”
“Italian espresso with steamed milk. I make the best in Palo Alto.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is this how you get customers hooked on three-dollar coffees instead of the regular stuff?”
“You’ll try it.” Mrs. Heiden ordered. “You can order the plain stuff anywhere. This is a European bakery. Kayli is trained as a renowned pastry chef. You’ll not drink standard fare with her delicacies.”
“This is a European bakery?” He looked confused for a moment, then flustered, and focused on the backward words on the window.
“Yes, why?” Mrs. Heiden inquired. “Didn’t you read it on the glass?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not important.” He looked back toward the window for a second. “I didn’t realize a European bakery was already here.”
“What do you mean ‘already’?” Mrs. Heiden asked.
“Nothing. I’ll try one of those cappuccinos.” His clear eyes gazed directly at Kayli. She froze in the moment, and her stomach fluttered. Does he know what I’m thinking? Does my face give it away?
“Single? Tall?” Kayli stammered.
“Yes, I am.” The stranger held open his hands. They were strong hands, if a bit rough-hewn. “Is that a requirement for the free coffee?”
Kayli blinked rapidly. “No, I meant do you want a single cappuccino or a double? A standard cup or a tall? You know, small or large?” Mortification settled over her as she rambled endlessly.
“Ah, so this is how you do it. You get people so confused about ordering a cup of java that we leave totally confused and satisfied we’ve gotten our three dollars’ worth because we figured something out.” His eye held a sparkle, and Kayli noticed he winked at Mrs. Heiden.
“No, I
only meant to offer you a free cup since I see you walk by each day.” She bit her lip.
“You’re very observant.”
“You’re hard to miss.” Kayli wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “Being so tall and all.” She turned on the espresso steamer, thankful it drowned out her ridiculous babbling.
“I’m building the restaurant up the street!” he yelled over the machine. “I did the owner’s house, and now he asked me to work on the restaurant. It’s almost finished, and then I can head home. To a place where the coffee comes only leaded or unleaded.”
“Home?” Kayli stopped the machine.
“Montana, blue sky as far as the eye can see.” He waved his large hand in the air. “And the closest neighbor has an udder.”
Kayli heard Mrs. Heiden laugh, and she shot the elder woman a grimace. “Why would you want to move away from all this?”
He looked out the shop windows again. Several impeccably dressed business people passed, a few foreign cars stopped at the light, and a woman strode by, looking as though she belonged on a soap opera rather than walking down a city street. “What part do you think I’ll miss?” He crossed his arms across his wide chest.
“For one thing, I imagine not many people want luxury homes or restaurants there. What will you do?” Kayli wiped the extra foam from the outside of the cup.
“Whistle Dixie if I have to. Maybe I’ll raise llamas.”
Kayli handed him his coffee; her heart slowed. He was a cowboy let loose on the city streets. He wasn’t her soul mate at all but a gorgeous impostor. Kayli sniffed. “If that’s your true calling, I wish you luck.”
“Mmm,” he said after his first sip. “This is incredible coffee. I’ve never tasted anything like it. I’m beginning to think the three dollars might be justified. Maybe the Europeans know something.” He winked again.
“Do you want anything else?”
He looked into the glass counters, his eyes brightening. “Do you have any apple pie?”
“Apple pie?” Kayli was almost offended. “This is a European bakery.”
“So you said.”
“I have tiramisu that will melt in your mouth and make you forget you ever ate such a trite dessert like apple pie.”
“I have no idea what tiramisu is. Apple pie is American. What kind of American are you, running a European bakery?”
“A European-trained pastry chef.” She squared her shoulders. “And a patriotic American. Tiramisu is a delightful Italian dessert made with marscapone cheese and lady fingers soaked in espresso. The word means ‘to lift you up,’ and it does just that.”
“So pastry chefs can’t make apple pie?” He shook his head. “What a waste of talent. My mother,” he groaned, “could make an apple pie crust that would disintegrate in your mouth. You never tasted anything like it.”
“I can make a piecrust that would do the same thing. I just choose not to.” She crossed her arms. “There’s not a lot of money in apple pie around here. I have to make a living.”
He seemed unimpressed. “You know, it’s easy to say you can make an apple pie like my mother’s, but why should I believe you? You might be like those gourmet chefs who can’t microwave a hotdog.”
“I studied pastry for years. I think I could take on your mother’s crust.” Kayli shook her head. An apple pie…really!
“Do you?” His eyebrow lowered. “I’d like to see you try.”
“You come back Friday afternoon. I’ll have an apple pie that will knock your socks off.”
“I’ll believe it when I taste it.”
“And you’ll pay for it this time.”
He laughed. “I think I already have. But I’ll see you Friday. You’ll have my pie ready.” The jingle of the bell annoyed her.
“How dare he!”
Kayli picked up her chocolate molds with force, and a few of them collapsed under the pressure. Mrs. Heiden took the tray from Kayli before any further damage was done. Her assistant’s bent frame shook with laughter, and Kayli felt incensed.
“Just what is so funny?”
“Kayli, my dear. I can’t help but giggle at the notion that your soul mate, as you so romantically put it, lives next door to cows. Have you even seen a cow?”
Kayli stood tall. “I have. We went to a working dairy when I studied milk chocolate in Switzerland.”
“I certainly hope there’s another soul mate out there for you because that one sounds distinctly like Annie Oakley’s soul mate. His America is far different from yours.”
“I’ll grant you that. An apple pie! Honestly, I think he’s looking for a diner on Route 66, not Les Saisons Bakery.”
“So will you make this apple pie?”
“You bet I will, and it will leave him wondering how he ever stomached his mother’s.”
“You’re cruel, Kayli, and far too competitive. You’ll never get a husband that way.”
Kayli grinned. “Maybe not, but I didn’t study for six years to make apple pie either. I can’t believe I ever found that man attractive. Perhaps I should have kept believing in my dreams and let him keep walking by.”
Adam Harper exited the fancy bakery with a heavy heart. Mike Williams never told him a European bakery already existed on University Avenue. Adam might not have noticed if he hadn’t seen the beautiful owner. That forced him into acknowledgement, made her real, and guilt weighed heavily on him. A ruthless businessman, Mike Williams would undercut this elegant little bakery until it couldn’t afford to operate; then he’d raise his prices and force rents up in the neighborhood. The bakery owner’s big brown eyes resonated in Adam’s memory. He would remember them always and what he’d done to remove some of their sparkle.
Adam sighed. Taking money from a man with no morals, he supposed, made him just as bad. He brought out the wrinkled picture of his Montana property. Was it worth it? He looked back to the tiny bakery, thinking about those wide, innocent eyes gazing at him.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Adam,” he muttered. You’re as bad as them and worse. You know better. The faster he was out of California, the better. Before he gave up everything he believed in.
“Hey, you checking out the competition?” Mike Williams met him on the sidewalk, nodding toward Adam’s coffee cup.
“You didn’t tell me there was any competition.”
“All you had to do was pay attention, Adam. You walk by the shop every day.” Mike waggled his eyebrows. “Did you get a load of that pretty little owner?” He motioned an hourglass in the air. “I’d like to get her on my payroll.”
In Montana, Adam would have hauled off and socked the guy, but here in Cali-fornia he just clenched his teeth, quietly enduring the immorality. Only a few more months, and I’ll be out of here.
“She seems like the kind of woman who wouldn’t give you the time of day. Too sweet.”
“Until she finds out about my mansion.” Mike winked. “Women are more open to me then.”
“Not this one, Mike. I think she’s beyond your standard money-grabber.”
“All women have their price—some are more expensive than others.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “If you believe that, you’re more pathetic than I thought. What does your wife think of this opinion?”
“Careful, Boy. This job ain’t over yet. You got a plumber that hasn’t shown up and a problem with the inspection on the stoves. I suggest you get to it. Swallow that sissy coffee and get a move on.”
Adam clenched his lips between his teeth to avoid replying. In less than three months, he’d take his payment from Mike Williams and be long gone. He held to that with fervor. It felt like all he had right now.
Chapter 2
F riday came quickly, and Kayli manipulated the dough in her hands then rolled it out into a flat circle. She cut a perfect circle, tossing the scraps aside for later. She held up a pippin apple, crowned to perfection. “I really hate to dash your mother’s title, but, alas, my pride has been wounded.”
“Are you
talking to yourself again?” Mrs. Heiden entered the back room. “My stars! You look like the wicked queen with that apple in your hands.”
“I was talking to my former soul mate. I’m feeling sorry for his mother. Soon my pie will show her pie for what it is. A pale comparison.” Kayli felt the corner of her mouth turn, and she tossed the apple playfully.
“You are a prideful thing—do you know that? And you know what they say about pride.” Mrs. Heiden grinned. “It goes before the fall.”
Kayli grimaced. “Mrs. Heiden, really. Do you honestly think some backwoods Montana mom could hold a candle to my baking expertise? I was born with gifted taste buds.”
Her eyebrow raised. “And tiny hips. Life isn’t fair, and, yes, I do think his mother’s pie could outrank yours. Taste is subjective.” Mrs. Heiden removed her red apron and hung it on a wall hook. “More important, I think it hardly matters. You should be doing something constructive to assist your social life, not baking pies for a man moving out of town. To get away from the likes of you, no less, and move back to the cows.”
“Now you’re being ornery. He is not moving to get away from me. He doesn’t even know me.”
“He knows all about your princess ways. They’re not hard to see. What is that on the piecrust?” Mrs. Heiden bent over Kayli’s pastry.
Kayli used her pastry brush to “glue” the decoration to the top of the shell. “It’s a cow. See?”
“You put a cow on the piecrust.” Mrs. Heiden shook her head. “You know, in some places, they would lock the likes of you away.”
“I thought it was cute. A going-away present, you might say, to remind him of home and his America.”
“Your friend Robert is here, and it’s nearly time to close. I’ll see you in the morning. I don’t want to be seen here late in case they haul you off.”
“ ’Bye, Mrs. Heiden. Thank you for your help today. I’m going to bake this, and it will be ready when our cowboy comes. Fresh and warm, just like his mama makes, only way better.” Kayli shrugged.
Mrs. Heiden clicked her tongue. “Get a life, as you young people say.”