Excerpt of Carly's Rule by Vickie L. King

Only a few things made pastry chef Carly Braddock’s mouth water. Two of those things

included the dream of putting her business on the map and the goal of creating the perfect recipe

for sugar cookies. The third just walked through the front door of Sugar Plums, her bakery and

It couldn’t be. She narrowed her gaze. Surely, she was mistaken. After all, it had been

As the man made his way through the café, the familiar set of his shoulders and the

confident but lazy gait that only one other person owned set her pulse to thrumming. She stared

at that pretty-boy face and slightly tousled dark hair that had once made her sit back and drink

her fill. Still did.

Her stomach fluttered as if she were once again that girl in love whose whole world

revolved around this one person.

Luke Donovan.

Memories rushed to the surface. Instantly, her knees weakened, but in typical woman- scorned fashion, she stiffened her spine and steeled herself against the power he once held over

her heart.

Halfway down the counter, he slid onto a padded chrome stool and picked up a menu.

Her employee, Addie, spotted the newcomer and grabbed her order pad. Carly caught the

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middle-aged woman’s attention to let her know she’d handle this one and then on jellied legs

moved toward Luke.

Carly didn’t want to take his order. She had to, if for no other reason than to let him

know she’d survived how he’d simply disappeared from her young life, so many years ago. He

wouldn’t know that her experience with him had shaped the other relationships she’d had.

With her stomach a jittery mess, she stepped in front of him. “Know what you want?”

His gaze slid from the paper menu to her. Those eyes of his, like blue-gray glass, cut

clear to her soul. He stared at her for a curious moment. The intensity of his gaze brought doubt

to her mind. Did he recognize her? Sweat slicked her palms.

A slow, slightly crooked grin turned the corners of his mouth. “Carly.”

Breathe. “Hello, Luke.”

“Been a long time.” While his voice had matured with age, he still had that sexy Texas

drawl that made her want to close her eyes and listen.

Fourteen years. “Yes, a long time.” She hoped she sounded normal, unaffected.

“How’ve you been?”

Did he mean after he’d broken her heart, or when she’d managed to bury any thoughts of

him to get on with her life? Maybe he meant more recently? She cringed a little at the unfamiliar

cattiness welling up in her. “Good. And you?”

Something flashed in his eyes. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it wasn’t the

carefree gaze she remembered. It was harder, more disciplined. “Doing great,” he finally said,

but his tone sounded more forced than casual.

“What brings you to Corrigan, again?” She tried not to put emphasis on again, but the

bitchiness that can lay dormant in a woman came out of hiding and took over.

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“Professionally, I’m in wood preservation, so I’m doing restoration for the Corrigan

Historical Society. I’ll also be working on the old Thaxton house on the north side of the lake.”

She knew the one—aging, two-story Victorian with a wrap-around porch, lots of property

and a fruit orchard out back. It had its own dock on Lake Corrigan and a killer view.

“You might remember my friend, Brian Thaxton, who used to visit his father at that

house during his summer vacations.”

“I remember.” She remembered everything that had to do with Luke, from the way he

held her, to the way his eyes fluttered closed when they kissed, and yes, even his passionate

reverence for wood. Trying to block some of her memories, she repositioned the packets of sugar

in the little container in front of her.

“Since his dad has passed on, Brian and his family only use the house for summer

vacations and holidays. Sometimes, they rent it out. Even rented it myself a few times.”

His words stilled her hands, but she didn’t look up. Luke had come back to Corrigan?

When? Before she’d left for college? During the years she’d lived in Atlanta? And why hadn’t he

gotten in touch with her?

“My contact with Brian is how I ended up getting the bid on the job with the historical

society,” he went on, as if his words about returning to Corrigan in the past shouldn’t have had

any effect on her.

Reality set in. Why should he have bothered contacting her? To him, they were teenagers

having a summer romance. Life must have gone on as usual for Luke.

Momentary panic welled up in her. Would she run into him at any of the historical

society meetings where she supplied the coffee and desserts?

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She swallowed the rising knot of bittersweet emotion, lifted her gaze and tried not to let

any uneasiness into her voice. “I moved back here last year myself and opened this bakery.” All

her energy for the past year had been lavished on Sugar Plums and her recipes, and she had plans

for them both. But the pride she normally experienced when talking about her business dissolved

with the onslaught of memories of Luke.

He looked around. “Nice place. I see you have Wi-Fi. I’ll definitely take advantage of

that, since the cottage I’m staying at doesn’t have Internet access. Got Internet on my phone, but

I can’t do business from it.” He paused. “We should get together, talk about old times.”

Or not. That’s the last thing she wanted to do, and to think she’d wasted so much time

worrying over what had happened to him. “Now that I own the bakery, I put in some fairly long

hours. I rarely have much time outside of work.”

An awkward pause froze the conversation. She’d only thought to let him know he

couldn’t still affect her. She hadn’t intended for it to sound like a brush off. Liar. Okay, so she’d

meant it to sound exactly like that. At one time, she’d thought she only wanted closure, thought

that she’d never be one to hold a grudge. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Every emotion over Luke she

thought long gone simmered just beneath the surface of her mind, fresh and raw.

He flipped the menu over, glanced at it. It drew her gaze to his tanned hands, recalling

how she and Luke used to sit on the beach with her nestled in front of him, his hands clasped

around her as they stared at the lake. His hands—even now she remembered how they had

unleashed a multitude of new and wonderful feelings. She didn’t want to think about those times.

They still brought an empty ache.

She looked up. His intense gaze caught hers again. Her cheeks warmed.

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“Guess I’ll order now.” He perused the menu. “Coffee and one of these apple

dumplings.”

She swallowed, found her voice. “Good choice. It’s a variation of my granny’s recipe.”

Hold it together, Carly. She jotted his order down and then placed a cup of coffee and a few little

containers of cream in front of him on the counter, as if he were any other customer, as if they

didn’t have a history. “Be right back.”

On legs that were steadier than they had been when Luke first walked in, she headed to

the kitchen. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he watched her. Her body betrayed her, because

just the thought made her pulse pick up. Too proud to look back, she kept walking, anxious to be

out of his company even for a short time to regroup.

A few minutes later, she set a plate in front of him. It held a plump, sweet apple baked in

a flaky crust.

“Smells great,” he said, piercing the dumpling with his fork, letting the fragrant cinnamon

steam escape.

“Thanks.” What happened that night? Where did you go? Why didn’t you come back?

The words formed, but she didn’t give them breath. The answers didn’t matter anymore.

The bell above the door jingled as several customers came in. Patrons already filled

nearly every seat in the café, and in the back, she had a three-tier wedding cake that wouldn’t

decorate itself.

Carly straightened. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your food.”

He smiled at her with that grin that had long ago burned itself in her mind. No matter

how hard she fought against it, it still unleashed butterflies in her stomach. Only now, it made

her want to run back to the kitchen where she had total control.

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“I’m glad I stopped in this morning. I’ll definitely be back.”

Tall, sexy Luke Donovan had returned to Corrigan. Better than she remembered. Better

than she could have ever imagined. She wished he’d stayed away.

Luke watched Carly until she disappeared through the double doors. She still looked

much the same to him—same chestnut-colored hair, only shorter now, that framed her face in

soft curls. Who could forget those dark brown eyes the shade of coffee or those beautiful full

lips? Carly Braddock was the sweetest part of his past.

Guilt slammed into him for the umpteenth time since he’d walked into the café. It had

been all he could do to carry on a polite conversation without saying, “I’m sorry,” but the new,

more mature version of Carly had stopped him cold.

She’d been polite, but he hadn’t seen any of the sweetness that used to shine from her and

had been as ingrained in her as breathing. Heaven knew she wouldn’t have recognized the person

he’d turned into after he’d left Corrigan that summer, and she definitely wouldn’t have wanted to

know him then. He’d been the antithesis of that seventeen-year-old boy who’d fallen in love with

Carly Braddock and made promises he’d never dreamed he wouldn’t be able to keep.

He’d screwed up—hated himself for it, hated what he’d done in those months following

that summer, and yet to wish away all of his screw-ups and all the chaos of that time would also

mean wishing away who he’d finally become now. Something special had grown out of his

mistakes. So if he had to do it all over, he’d have to do it the exact same way, even if it meant

hurting Carly again.