Tags:
Fiction,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Family Life,
Religious,
Christian,
Danger,
Inspirational,
Strangers,
Daughter,
Single Mother,
Healing,
Faith,
marine,
Veterans,
scars,
wounded,
Return,
Retired,
Pastry Chef,
Thrill- Seeking,
Wounded Hearts
Marla asked before she could catch herself. Of course she delivered her own products. Sometimes because she didn’t trust anyone else for the job.
“You do deliver, right?” Hattie’s green eyes sparkled.
“Yes, ma’am.” Marla would just send someone else this time. But with an order this big, she’d want to make sure everything was perfect—so she’d probably have to take someone with her and do it herself. How could she avoid that?
She hoped Alec wouldn’t be around. Why would any man stay there with thirty women taking over the place? Besides, it was a big rambling house. She might not even see him at all. But what did it matter if she did run into him? They were...tentative friends.
Nothing more.
But Hattie Marshall’s parting words spoke of something more. “I’m glad you and Alec have become acquainted. He could use a few more friends here in town since he’s been away and well...he’s a bit stubborn about getting out more.” Then she held on to her designer purse and gave Marla a direct stare. “He needs to develop a new confidence and realize that people won’t notice anything but his big heart.”
Marla’s heart opened at that comment. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Hattie. I do believe Alec has a good heart.”
“I thought you might say that,” Hattie replied. “I’ll see you in two weeks...at Caldwell House.”
Marla jotted notes and waved goodbye. “Thank you, Miss Hattie.”
After Hattie had left, Brandy marched up to Marla. “Your cupcakes are cooling. Tell me, what’s up with you and the Dream Marine?”
Marla couldn’t hide her surprise. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what all the girls around here call him,” Brandy explained. “A dream of a marine—maybe McMarine. Yeah, I like that. A real hero with a mysterious scar. Like a pirate, but in a good way. Sigh.”
Marla slapped lightly at her young, impressionable assistant. “He is a hero—he got that scar serving our country—but I don’t have time to dwell on his other attributes. We’ve got to get these cupcakes iced and out the door.”
Brandy grinned and started a singsong teasing. “You like him. You really, really like him.”
“Hush,” Marla retorted, a heated blush moving up her neck. “I don’t even know the man. Back to work.”
But she had to smile because she did like Alec Caldwell, the Dream Marine.
Really, really.
* * *
He now noticed her delivery van all over town.
He’d never made the connection before, but now it was kind of hard to miss the white van with the colorful confections glazed across the sides. Marla’s Marvelous Desserts were beginning to haunt his dreams.
Alec didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to shake her but Marla’s cute face was messing with his head. He had too much to do, so he needed to get his head out of the clouds and back in the here and now.
Today, he was on the outskirts of town standing on a now-vacant car dealership waiting to talk with a real estate agent. The real estate agent had been helping Alec scout possible locations for the Caldwell Canines training school and boarding kennel. This place just might do the trick.
Located in front of a big field, the massive building had been vacant for three years and the land behind it was also up for sale. It was away from any subdivisions and it was zoned commercial, so it was a perfect place to train animals. Plus, the main building would make a great training area, especially since they could build mock kitchens and other rooms to help with training any veterans who were in wheelchairs. Alec also hoped to build some dorm rooms and a large activity room, so veterans and others who needed service dogs could stay on-site while they trained.
All of this would take a lot of money and a lot of man power, of course. But the first step was securing the place.
Alec walked around the building, doing a preliminary check. When a sleek white sports car pulled up, he held back a groan. His Realtor had sent one of
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