“Asher, allow me to introduce you to someone very special,” Pauline continued warmly, interrupting Sera’s thoughts. “This is my niece from New York, Serafina Wilde. My very single niece. Everyone calls her Bliss.”
“No one calls me Bliss,” Sera mumbled uncomfortably, squirming under the Israeli’s curious regard. “You’re the only one, Aunt Pauline.” As Sera’s godmother, Pauline had had the honor of gifting her niece with that fantastical middle name. Sera had secretly always liked it, even as it made her feel vaguely embarrassed to cop to it.
The lanky artisan had the grace to pretend not to notice Sera’s ungracious tone. “Your aunt has a way with words,” Asher complimented in his lilting accent, filling the awkward space. “It is a true pleasure to meet you, Bliss. Any relative of Miss Pauline is a welcome addition to our little town.”
Now why did she get the feeling there was not a chance in hell of getting him to stop calling her Bliss and start using her given name?
And why, further, was she having an even more unsettling fantasy upon hearing the way the word “bliss” rolled off his tongue, of that name being a promise he might collect on?
“You had a delivery a few days ago,” Asher told Pauline, interrupting Sera’s squirrelly thoughts with disheartening practicality. Somehow, she’d expected the guy to spout movie dialogue, not prosaic everyday stuff. “When you couldn’t be reached, I put the boxes inside for you.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry, Ash. I did mean to call you back, it’s just that things rather got away from me since…since Hortencia…” Moisture gathered in Pauline’s coffee brown eyes, and she crinkled them valiantly to keep tears at bay. Sera felt a pang, and reached out instinctively to rub the older woman’s shoulder. There were so many reminders of her life with Hortencia, and it had to be hard on her to carry on alone. They may have found each other late in life, but there was little doubt the two women had been soul mates.
Asher’s quick gaze took note of her gesture and seemed to warm a bit. Sera wasn’t sure what to make of that and glanced away uncomfortably. She did not need to get herself enthralled by another charismatic man, damn it! Especially not one as inscrutable as Indy over here. ’Cause yeah, that had worked out real well for her last time.
“Thank you for taking care of that for us, Ash,” Pauline resumed when her composure returned. “I always said you were a good egg, and I have great instincts when it comes to men.”
Unlike her niece, Serafina thought.
“It was no trouble, I assure you,” Asher demurred gallantly.
Even the tiny half smile he offered was enough to threaten the steadiness of Serafina’s knees.
“Bliss here has been thinking of taking over the shop and turning it into a bakery,” the older woman informed Asher blithely.
“Thanks for spilling the beans on that one, Aunt Paulie,” Sera muttered with a wince. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready to share her secret hopes with the world just yet.
Pauline just rolled her eyes at Sera’s modesty. “She’s a famous pastry chef back home,” Pauline further confided.
Sera blushed. “Infamous, more like,” she mumbled, shooting Pauline a quelling glance.
One slashing eyebrow rose beneath the hat. “Is that so?” Asher murmured.
“Oh, well, I… that is, yes, I was fairly well known in the industry at one time…” Sera muttered uncomfortably. “Laughingstock” would have been a better way to describe it. “As for opening a bakery, well, Pauline and I have discussed it briefly, and I’m really not sure yet, but I thought it would be worth taking a look at the space just to see… you know, whether it might be something I could try… that is, if it’s suitable…”
Gawd, why am I blathering on like this?
Maybe it was how fragile this opportunity felt, how badly she wanted the chance for something new, and how afraid she was that something would come along and dash her dream before she could even fully develop it in her mind’s eye. Maybe her hopes would sound foolish to him—a little girl’s fantasy of being surrounded by sweets and sweetness 24/7. Then again, the guy was practically wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the word “iconoclast.” And wasn’t she in a town famous for its free-spirited dreamers? If she were ever to find herself not judged for taking a flyer on an out-there idea, she had to hope it would be here, in the land of enchantment. But she’d get nowhere with a faint heart. Serafina took a deep breath.
“What I mean to say is, yes, I might open my own business here if the conditions are right.” There, that sounded dignified, didn’t it?
“Indeed?” Asher smiled politely. “I should enjoy hearing more about this venture sometime, Bliss.”
Her heart fluttered. Wow, he sounded legitimately interested in her plans! Despite her determination not to let this ludicrously sexy man distract her, she couldn’t help feeling flattered. Then she mentally smacked herself upside the head. Duh, Sera. He probably just wanted to scope out whether she was going to be competition or good for his business, given that his own shop was located right next door. “Um, right, ah… thanks, yeah, I’ll be sure to let you know what I decide,” Sera muttered, going crimson for no particular reason she’d care to admit.
“Now, where did I put those darn keys?” Pauline was muttering, fully engrossed in rummaging through her voluminous tapestry bag. Sera half expected her to pull a Mary Poppins and drag forth a lamppost or a midsized potted plant from that monstrous sack. “Dang it! I was so sure I swapped them from my big bag the other day. But maybe they’re still in Hortencia’s purse? Of all the stupid…”
Pauline’s voice wobbled and her eyes threatened to well again.
She’s going to have to talk about it sometime, Sera thought. But right now didn’t seem like the moment. Pauline would share her grief when she was ready. “That’s okay, Auntie,” she soothed. “We can come back tomorrow.”
“Not necessary,” Asher said smoothly. “I have a set of keys.”
Oh, right, he’d mentioned he had put their delivery inside the store, hadn’t he? So he must have his own way in. But why would this man have keys to Pauline’s business? Maybe people were just more neighborly around here than she was used to back in Manhattan?
Asher dragged forth the heavy silver chain from his pocket, revealing a massive array of jangling keys at the end of it. Sera noticed that, similar to the one he wore about his neck, the chain was wrought from large, intricately scrolled silver links, handsome and masculine in design, yet with an almost musical flow. Before she could inquire into why he had the means to enter, he bounded up onto the porch ahead of them and wrestled with the locks, swinging open the door to Pauline’s House of Passion and gesturing with a flourish for them to precede him inside. Sera suppressed a little shudder of purely feminine awareness as she passed in front of him to enter the store, close enough to appreciate the scent of strong, healthy male—pheromones mixed with the sharper aromas of metal, oil, and wood. Tools of his trade, perhaps?