Lisa Kincaid specialized in three things: shortbread, scones
and sleep deprivation. She preferred the first two over the
third, but as a bakery/coffeehouse owner and single mom of a
four-year-old, lack of sleep came with the territory.
"Are you ready?" she called to her son, Jamie, who sat at
one of Shortbread Cottage's café tables polishing off his
last bits of breakfast. "Miss Courtney's going to think we
slept in."
"Ready," he said.
Lisa came around the display counter and checked out his
half-finished cup of orange juice. "Almost ready."
He grinned, picked up the cup, and then chugged its contents
in championship style. When he was done, instead of using
the napkin that still rested neatly folded to his left, he
wiped his mouth with his hand.
Lisa ruefully shook her head. "Manners, mister."
He pushed away from the table. "Gotta go see Miss Courtney.
It's build-a-castle day."
She pointed toward the entry to the bakery's kitchen. "You
know where the dishes go."
From her spot at the coffee bar, down at the far end of the
counter, Suzanne Jacobs, Lisa's sole employee and all-around
lifesaver, said, "I'll take care of it."
Generally, Lisa considered it her duty to womankind to raise
a son who could find and use a dishwasher. Today, though,
she was willing to cave. It was nearly time for Kevin Decker
to arrive for his morning scone and coffee.
Kevin was one of her best customers. Smart man. Great sense
of humor. Hardworking. Kind to children and stray dogs… all
that good stuff. There were countless reasons why a woman
might want to be in his company, but lately he'd begun to
make her feel edgy. Of course it wasn't his fault; Kevin was
the same as ever. This was her weird issue. All the same,
she needed a fortifying dose of Iowa autumn sunshine before
seeing him.
She took Jamie's hand. "Thanks, Suz. I'll be right back."
"No hurry," Suzanne called over the slow, waking hiss of the
espresso maker.
Lisa might have agreed, but Jamie had other plans. As they
exited the rambling old clapboard house that served both as
bakery and their home, he tugged on her hand.
"C'mon, Mommy."
She smiled as she looked down at her son, who so resembled
James, her late husband. Jamie had been not quite a year old
when his father had died in an accident.
James never had the chance to see that when his son left
infancy, he'd grow to look all Scot, like Aberdeen-born
James. Jamie had wild, sandy-brown hair and pale skin prone
to freckles. Already, his build was beginning to echo his
father's—sturdy and athletic. But her son also possessed her
push-on-though determination, as he was displaying right
now, practically dragging her down Shortbread Cottage's
winding brick pathway in his rush to get to Miss Courtney's
Day Care, where he spent weekday mornings.
Three afternoons a week he attended preschool at the rather
posh Hillside Academy, courtesy of her parents. It had been
a gift Lisa couldn't refuse, much as it had nicked at her
pride and independence. But part of being a mom was basing
her decisions on Jamie's well-being, not her ego. She could
do it, despite the occasional twinge.
When Lisa had become pregnant with Jamie at the age of
twenty-one, she'd been shocked and totally unprepared, yet
now she couldn't imagine life without him. No longer could
she imagine a life away from Davenport's east village,
either. Lisa loved the business she'd built for herself in
this little wedge of Iowa history overlooking the
Mississippi River. Funny, because when she'd been in high
school, all she'd wanted was to get the heck out of here.
Now she understood that quaint did not necessarily equal boring.
Jamie let go of her hand and began skipping down the
sidewalk in front of her. It was the sort of day that made
Lisa want to skip, too. Though it was late September, the
air still held the humid perfume of summer and the low, lazy
song of a tugboat horn as the vessel pushed its barges fat
with newly harvested grain. If she had the luxury of a day
off, she'd sit in the park overlooking the river and do
absolutely nothing but catch the sun. Okay, not really.
Actually, she'd catch up on their endless laundry pile, but
a woman should be entitled to her dreams.
"Wait up," she called to Jamie, who was ready to round the
corner into the neighborhood that sat behind her home/business.
Jamie danced with impatience, but did as requested.
"So it's build-a-castle day?" she asked once she'd taken his
hand again.
Jamie nodded. "Mr. Kevin's bringing over big boxes and we're
gonna make a castle."
Lisa slowed. In addition to all the other good stuff about
Kevin Decker, he was also her best friend Courtney's oldest
brother. Co-owner of a construction company, Kevin had
overseen the renovations to the almost crazy-big Victorian
that Courtney had inherited from their great-grandmother,
making the main floor into the perfect day care center.
"Sounds great," she enthused for her son's sake. For her own
sake, she hoped that the build-a-castle plans were slated
for later in the day and that she had a few more Kevin-free
moments.
No such luck. As they rounded the block, Lisa saw a shiny
red pickup parked in Courtney's drive. She didn't need to
look any closer to know that Decker Construction was
emblazoned on the truck's doors. It was as familiar to her
as the white gingerbread trim that Kevin had designed,
hand-cut and added to Shortbread Cottage's slate-blue facade
last summer.
Kevin's truck bed was already empty of the boxes so there
was a good chance he was out back in the play area. Maybe
she could escape without seeing him. She felt like a rat for
even having these avoidance thoughts.
Jamie chugged up the broad steps to Miss Courtney's covered
front porch and then slipped inside without a backward
glance at his mother. Lisa followed. As always, Courtney was
in the entry hall to greet the children and then send them
on to the playroom, where her assistant waited.
Courtney gave Jamie his morning welcome. Lisa was impressed
he managed to toss a distracted "Bye, Mommy" in her
direction before heading back to the playroom.
"So, what's up?" Courtney asked Lisa. "You two are usually
the last in the door."
"I thought I'd shake up my schedule. You know… add a little
excitement to my life," she replied while pulling the
antique oak front door partway closed behind her.
Laughing, Courtney shook her head, sending her corkscrew
blond curls bouncing. "What scares me is that there's a good
possibility you're serious. You really are in a rut, you know."
"Rut's too negative. I prefer to think of it as my beloved
routine." Lisa was well aware that she never took time for
herself, but she was okay with that. She had to be. Jamie
and her business came first.
"Call it what you want, but it's time to give yourself a
break. I have an idea…"
Lisa wasn't crazy about the way her friend's voice had taken
on the same sort of singsong quality her mother's did when
yet another futile dating fix-up was in the offing.
"Ideas are good," she replied in a neutral tone.
Just then another mom and child came in, and Lisa turned to
slip out before Courtney pressured her into something she
didn't want to do.
"Stay," Courtney commanded.
"I'd rather fetch," Lisa replied, earning a giggle from the
little girl Courtney had just greeted.
Courtney gave Lisa a pointed look. "Let's work on stay."
Resigned to her fate, she waited while Courtney chatted with
the mom for a second.
After the mom departed, a speculative light returned to
Courtney's blue eyes. "Tonight, Kevin, Scott and I—"
Lisa held out her hand like a backup singer. "Stop there.
Anything involving three Deckers isn't good… it's dangerous."
"Come on, we're not dangerous."
Lisa thought but knew better than to say One of you
is... to me, at least, aloud.
"Okay, maybe not dangerous, but definitely a little crazy,"
she replied instead.
Courtney shrugged. "Guilty as charged, but the least you can
do is hear me out."
"If it were another night, I would, for sure," Lisa fibbed.
"But Wednesday is Inquisition Night, remember? I have dinner
with Mom and Dad."
"That's one heck of a family tradition," a deep voice said
from behind her. "What's Thursday, Guilt and
Self-recrimination Day?"
Lisa swallowed the panicky feeling that Kevin Decker seemed
to bring to the surface in her, then turned to greet him.
He ambled through the front door at the same easy pace he
always took, even when at Shortbread Cottage juggling a
business meeting over coffee, an incessantly ringing cell
phone, and Jamie edging closer to hang out with his favorite
customer. While she often had to fake being calm and
collected, Kevin appeared to be the real deal.
"Hey, Kevin."
"Good to see you, Lisa."
She might not want to see him, but she had to admit he was
fun to look at, with his tall frame, well muscled from the
years he'd spent doing construction work, and the chiseled
features of his face, saved from being harsh by an almost
incongruous dimple that appeared when he smiled.
"Good to see you, too," she replied, settling on yet another
half truth.
He gave her a smile that didn't quite match up with the
awareness of her evasion she sensed in his gray eyes. Or
maybe she was just projecting her own uneasiness on him. He
had this way of making her feel emotionally naked.
Naked…
Hot color painted its way across her face as that word
invited all sorts of other long-repressed thoughts about
literal nakedness to come out and play. And since once
freed, they didn't seem to want to leave, she would. Lisa
feigned a glance at her watch.
"Well, it's time for me to get back to work," she said.
"I could use my morning coffee. Hang on a second, and I'll
walk with you," Kevin offered.
Her gaze was drawn to his long, blue jeans-clad legs and his
worn, tan work boots. Feet. She could safely focus on feet,
right? Except she'd feel like an idiot, conversing with the
man's boots.
"Thanks, but no," she replied. "I really have to run." Which
was no lie, even if the motivation for running was messier
and more personal than just getting back to Shortbread Cottage.
"Okay, so maybe we can all do something on Friday?" Courtney
asked as Lisa was attempting to slip past Kevin and out the
door.
She stopped in what was a bad spot—just close enough to
catch the clean scent of Kevin's skin and imagine that she
could feel the warmth emanating from him. Heaven knew she
missed being close to a man, but in her experience, the cost
for that comfort was more than she was willing to pay.
"Really, Court, I'm too busy," she said to her friend. "Just
have some extra fun for me, okay?"
And then she left before she might recall in any more detail
exactly what fun was.
"Not a word about Lisa," Kevin warned his sister after the
woman in question had bolted.
Courtney had on her best innocent face, one that he'd
stopped buying back when she was sixteen and had "borrowed"
his car to take a pack of her girlfriends to a concert in
Chicago. Of course, he should have known better than to
provide her with a set of keys for emergencies, but that was
part of the duties he felt were his as the eldest Decker
offspring.
"Why should I say anything?" she asked. "Just because you
like her?"
This wasn't a conversation he ever planned to have with
Courtney. "Sure, I like Lisa. Who in this town doesn't?"
"No, I mean like…like. As in 'Kevin and Lisa
sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.'"
He laughed in spite of himself. "You've been hanging around
the preschool set too much."
His baby sister stuck her tongue out at him. "Says who?"
"Funny, but here's what I'm saying… Don't push things, okay?
I'm capable of taking care of my own life."
"You should be," she said. "Except you're too busy acting
like you need to take care of me and Scott and even Mike,
who's what…all of two years younger than you? If you were
taking care of your own life, you'd have at least asked Lisa
out for dinner by now, after all the time you've spent
worshipping at her coffee counter."
"Worshipping? It's breakfast."
Courtney took a peek into the doorway to the playroom,
probably doing a head count of her charges already there for
the day.
"Sure, breakfast at the exact same place every day you're in
town," she said as she returned to her spot at the front door.
"She's a friend. That's it. And when it comes to women, I
haven't exactly been suffering," he pointed out.
And that was the truth. He dated whenever he wanted to. So
what if he'd called a first-date moratorium a few months
back? Or was it more like six months ago? Not that it
mattered, and not that it was any of his little sister's
business.
"You'd be better off looking after your own social life,
don't you think, kid?" he suggested.
As soon as he'd said the words, he wished he could yank them
back. It had only been six months since she'd broken it off
with her fiancé for cheating on her, and rejected the Decker
brothers' collective offer to ship him in a storage
container to the desolate wasteland of her choice.