The Icing on the Cake
Read The Icing on the Cake Online
Authors: Rosemarie Naramore
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Inspirational, #Teen & Young Adult
The Icing on the Cake
by
Rosemarie Naramore
All the characters in this book
are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
The Icing on the Cake
© Copyright 2014 by Rosemarie
Naramore
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Kristine Branton eyed the ladder propped
against the storefront of her family’s bakery. It appeared rickety at best,
downright dangerous at worst. Unfortunately, the sign above the store had
pulled away from the siding and was dangling precariously above the sidewalk.
Kristine hated to envision the condition of the pedestrian who happened to walk
past when the sign gave way. She also hated to imagine the ensuing lawsuit.
Her first inclination was to call her
father to fix the sign. It was as natural as taking a breath to think of him
when she found herself in a bind. In her mind’s eye, she saw him walking
toward her with a big smile on his face and his tool chest in his hand. He
would have made short work of the pesky sign. Lord knew, she missed him
desperately. Not only was he a terrific handyman, he was also kind hearted,
soft spoken, and always ready to lend an ear. She remembered how he’d cock his
head, listening intently to whatever happened to ail her at a particular
moment. “It’ll get better, honey,” he’d tell her and then pull her into a
hug. How she missed his steady presence and strong arms.
Perhaps only her mother Ruth missed him
more. Kristine couldn’t help worrying about her. She had lost her soul mate
and just couldn’t seem to move past his loss. She understood it was still
relatively early in her grieving process, but her once vivacious and outgoing
mother had become sedate and reclusive. Kristine knew she was still reeling
from the shock of her husband’s sudden death from a heart attack. She had
stopped working at the bakery and rarely even left the house. Kristine
suspected that getting out and interacting with people again was the key to her
overcoming her grief, but she simply seemed unable to pull herself together.
Kristine had picked up the slack for her, both at home and at the bakery, but
she was beginning to feel the strain.
Her sister Lori was beginning to lose
patience with their mother, urging her to ‘snap out’ of her depression, but Kristine
knew it wasn’t that easy. Her parents had married young and her father truly
had been a wonderful man. Kristine hoped to find a man much like him someday.
But who was she kidding? Running the
family business left little time for thoughts of romantic relationships, let
alone embarking on the real thing.
Her sister Lori felt no such
constraints, however, and was conspicuously absent this morning. No doubt,
she’d had a late night and had decided to give herself the day off. Kristine
would have appreciated a phone call. But Lori was older and regarded herself
as the bakery manager, and thus, felt no obligation to apprise Kristine of her
comings and goings. It was a constant battle between them.
If only Mitch was here. At several
inches over six foot, he was definitely more suited to the task of repairing
that sign. Unfortunately, her fellow baker was scheduled off today. Minnie,
another baker, would arrive in an hour or so, but she was even shorter than
Kristine, who topped out at only an inch over five feet tall.
With a shoring breath, she tossed her
auburn hair over her shoulder and regarded the ladder through narrowed green
eyes, and then glanced up at the sign again.
Branton’s Bakery.
This
particular sign had hung here for over one hundred years. Maybe it was time to
replace it. Regardless, she needed to fix it until she secured a replacement.
She chewed her lower lip as she placed a
tentative foot on the lowest rung and a hand on one of the highest. She tested
both and found them sound. Pleased, she climbed onto the first rung, and then
to the second. So far, so good. She continued upward until she reached the
uppermost rung. She felt slightly off balance and reached a hand toward the
building and braced herself against it. She surveyed the sign, still too high
above her for her to reach it.
One more step would bring her to a small
platform at the top of the ladder. It might be just high enough, she mused, as
she carefully climbed onto it. Continuing to brace herself with one hand, she
reached the other hand toward the sign and attempted to hoist it back into
place. She hadn’t anticipated how heavy it was, nor had she remembered to
bring her toolbox with her in order to secure the sign to the wall.
Stupid, stupid
,
she muttered, as she attempted to place one foot onto the top rung of the
ladder in order to begin her descent. Just as it appeared her foot would make
purchase with it, Kristine heard the sound of a dog barking and its human
counterpart barking out orders in return.
“Get back here, Gracie!” a woman
shouted.
“Gracie!
Watch out for that…”
“Ladder,” Kristine murmured wanly, as
she felt the impact of the dog’s large body against the rickety ladder. She
felt it tumble out from beneath her and found herself doing a backwards drop
toward the pavement. Instinctively, she stiffened and braced for impact. Eyes
closed, she continued her drop to the sidewalk, feeling as if it were happening
in agonizingly slow motion.
To her utter surprise, she found herself
caught in two strong arms. Too stunned to speak, she lay quietly, splayed out
across a couple of the most finely muscled biceps she’d ever had the good
fortune to encounter. Though she couldn’t actually see them, she felt them
flexed beneath her.
Relief washed over her. She was fine,
unbroken, and able to go about her day. And she owed it all to the stranger
with the great arms who had caught her.
When her heart rate returned to a near
normal rhythm, she finally opened her eyes and turned to see him. She certainly
owed him a debt of gratitude. Her eyes lit on his face. She recognized him
immediately. It had been several years since she’d last seen him, but it was
him—Joseph Lancaster.
Her heart dropped. It couldn’t be. He
was probably among the list of the last persons she wanted to see. Lori would
be delighted to hear he was back in town, however. The two had dated when they
were in high school and she had always regarded him as the one that had gotten
away. But for Kristine… He’d been the bane of her existence.
“You’re up early, Krissy,” he observed,
his lips twitching into a smile.
It seemed an odd comment. Why hadn’t he
commented on her fall, or her stupidity for climbing a ladder that had seen
better days, and without another person close by to steady it for her?
He arched his brows, as if encouraging
her to speak. She wasn’t sure how to respond to him, and was, frankly,
surprised he remembered her name. Of course, he’d been the only person to ever
call her Krissy and he’d only done so in order to get on her nerves. He had
teased her relentlessly when they were kids.
She knew he had regarded her as Lori’s
annoying little sister, and she had feigned contempt for him, when in reality,
he had been the object of her affection from the time she had entered high
school as a freshman and he had been a senior. Lord, it was mortifying to
remember how his mere proximity could cause an embarrassing spike in her heart
rate, not to mention induce a blush to spill across her cheeks. Thankfully,
she had managed to keep her crush on him a secret from her sister, and he had
remained blessedly unaware of her feelings for him.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You
didn’t hit your head on the ladder, did you?”
She finally found her voice. “No, no,
I’m fine. Thanks for … catching me.”
He eyed her speculatively. “Are you
sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. You can put me down. Thank you.”
He hesitated. “What were you doing on
the ladder?” He glanced upward and spotted the sign. “Oh.”
“I was attempting to repair it.”
“Where’s your toolbox?”
She sighed and felt herself growing more
embarrassed by the second. He didn’t seem inclined to put her down and she was
finding it oddly disconcerting being so close to him. Time had been kind to
him, as his once boyish good looks had given way to the hard planes of a
ruggedly chiseled and strikingly handsome face. His dark hair was cut short,
his blue eyes appeared every bit as bright as they always had, and they still
twinkled when he smiled. His perfectly straight nose remained
untouched—despite his having played four years of college football. And those
lips… How she had longed to kiss those lips once upon a time…
She was unaware she was staring so
intently at his lips, which were now parted in a broad smile. “Do I have
something on my teeth?” he asked finally. “I brushed this morning. Haven’t
had breakfast yet…”
“What? No. I mean…” She shook her
head. “I don’t know what I mean. You can put me down,” she insisted. “I’m
fine.”
“I don’t know,” he said, eyeing her with
concern. “You seem … off.”
“Thanks,” she said drolly. “If memory
serves, that isn’t the first time you made that particular observation about
me.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. That came out
wrong. But you’re sure you’re not hurt?” Before she could answer, he hefted
her in his arms, as if gauging her weight.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a
puzzled frown.
“You still work at the bakery?”
She nodded and shifted in his arms, as
if hoping the action might compel him to release her. He held firm.
“Well? Do you?”
“What?”
“Do you still work at the bakery?
Inside, I mean?”
“Oh. Yes.” She shook her head, feeling
frazzled. “I do.”
“Maybe you oughta eat a cupcake now and
then,” he observed. “You don’t weigh anything.” He pinned her with a look.
“Are you working too hard? Getting enough z’s?”
She ignored his questions. “Joe, put me
down. Please.”
He finally seemed to register she meant
business and lowered her to her feet. She teetered slightly and he quickly
grasped her arm to keep her upright. He eyed her … worriedly?
“Well, thanks for… You know.”
“You could have been killed,” he said of
her fall.
“Well, thankfully, you came along.” She
furrowed her brows. “What are you doing here?”
“Moved home,” he said simply.
“Why?”
He appeared taken aback. “You don’t
seem especially happy to see me.”
She weighed the comment with a
side-to-side shake of her head. “All things considered, I’m glad you’re here.”
He grinned suddenly. “You mean, because
I happened to catch you before you ended up splattered on the pavement.”
“Yep. That.”
“Otherwise, you wouldn’t be the least
bit happy to see me,” he observed, watching her thoughtfully now.
“Well, you weren’t exactly nice to me
when we were kids.”
The comment seemed to take him by
surprise. “What do you mean? You and I got along great.” He grinned
sheepishly. “Got along a little better with your sister but…”
She raised a silencing hand and shook
her head. “Well, thanks again.” She began walking toward the bakery. If she
was remembering correctly, her dad’s toolbox was stowed in a closet in the back
room.
“Where are you going?” he asked, falling
into step beside her. “Aren’t you going to fix the sign? If it falls, it
could kill someone.”
“Which is why I’m heading inside to get
my toolbox,” she said, struggling to retain her patience.
She hurried away, hoping against hope he
would be gone when she returned. No such luck. She found him waiting outside
for her. He promptly took the toolbox from her and headed for the ladder.
She jogged to catch up to him. “I don’t
know if the ladder will hold you…”
“Hey, I weigh the very same now that I
did in high school,” he said, feigning offense.
“That wasn’t a commentary on your
weight,” she said with a sigh. “It’s more a general observation about the condition
of the ladder.”
He reached it and gave it a firm shake.
He tested the bottom rung by pressing on it with his foot. He then stood back
and stared at it for a long moment as if to assure it was human-worthy. He
finally shook his head and passed her the toolbox. “I think I’d feel better if
I used my ladder.” He raised a finger, indicating he needed a moment, and then
jogged away.
Kristine watched after him as he crossed
the street. He strode toward a large, shiny red truck that was parked
curbside. From a distance, she could see the bed was filled with tools and
lumber. He was awfully trusting leaving the items unattended, but then, this
was Cooper Glenn and the crime rate remained far lower than the national
average. People in the small town still left their doors unlocked at night.
Joe dropped the tailgate and stretched
to reach the ladder inside. He easily tugged it out and then strode back to
her with it tucked under one arm. In the span of a blink, he had moved the old
ladder and positioned his new one against the building. He climbed up and
reached the uppermost rung. “Tool box,” he said.
She passed it to him and he placed it on
the small platform at the top. Before opening it, he looked above him and
spotted the source of the dangling sign. “Screw came loose,” he observed, and
then glanced down at the sidewalk below. “Do you happen to see it?”