Their Romantic Chalet (The Men of Evergreen Mountain #4)

1. Lavender

ONE

lavender

“How much longer on that cake, Lavender? We needed it a half hour ago.” The exasperated voice of my boss, Hannah, calls out to me as I’m rushing about, trying to get all the cake decoration supplies ready.

“It’s in the oven. I can’t make it bake any faster.”

Hannah nibbles on her bottom lip. She’s experienced enough to know this to be true, but it still annoys her.

This is a cake for a friend, and it had to be perfect. I may have gotten nervous and screwed up the batter a few times when measuring it out. Usually a little extra flour here or there or too much or too little vanilla wouldn’t stop me. For Tabitha’s wedding cake, however, I wanted perfection.

She’s only going to get married once, after all.

Hopefully, anyway. This Fox guy seems pretty swell, and aside from some weirdness about his folks, there aren’t any massive red flags.

I pull the cake out, needing it to cool a bit before I bust out the decorations. We didn’t have a whole lot of orders today, outside of Tabitha’s wedding, so my job boils down to a lot of waiting for stuff to be at the right temperature.

Hannah poking her head in, trying to rush what can’t be rushed, is annoying but understandable. This is her bakery. She’s been working hard at making it work. She’s such a sweetheart, but I can see how sometimes business in such a small town, like Evergreen Valley, is a bit stressful.

Especially when Hannah hires weird girls who show up out of nowhere, dressed far too nice compared to the rest of the town.

“We need an ETA on the wedding cake,” Hannah calls out to the back. I look through the shelves to see who she’s talking to.

And my heart skips a beat.

Most of the guys around here, young and old, are a bit roughneck. Lots of flannel, big trucks, boots, and dirt. All of them are somewhat musclular, either huge, bulging, hard-working muscles or just some of that good, old-fashioned big-guy strength. They’re all handsome in their own way, but one guy stands out.

He’s dressed like the rest of them, which strikes me as odd, given that supposedly he’s going to a wedding once he gets this cake. But I guess up here this is as formal as you need to be. That’s not what gets me, though. No. It’s because his handsomeness far surprasses any others I’ve seen. He’s especially rugged, his shoulders broad, and his face looking seasoned from all the time he’s spent outdoors. His eyes keep track of everything around the room, his awareness never waning. For some, he would come across as being paranoid or anxious, but for him, it’s second nature to be on edge.

If anything makes him seem awkward, it’s being in a bakery, in the heart of civilization. He looks like he’d be most comfortable deep in a forest, tracking a mammoth, with a pointy stick in hand.

And I mean that in the best way possible.

Then, he sees me looking at him through the shelves. I look away, bashful as ever.

“Lavender, how much longer for the cake?”

“It’s just about cooled; I’m getting to it,” I say, in a hurry.

I get to work. I want it to be perfect, but knowing the wedding ceremony is quickly approaching, I can’t delay any longer. I can’t let perfection be the enemy of good-enough any longer, but I’m still going to push myself to make it the best it can be.

Thankfully, I don’t make any major mistakes. None at all, actually, if you don’t count mistakes that can be covered up with an extra buttercream flower.

I build it up, delicate construction. Hannah comes in to make sure I stack the layers just right. And when it’s all done, we’ve finally got the cake ready.

“All right, it looks good to go.” She slaps me on the back. “But make sure you take some of the baking supplies with you. Just in case you need to make any sudden repairs.”

There’s this weird intersection of bakery and construction when it comes to these sorts of cakes that I’ll never fully understand, but I accept nonetheless.

“I’m counting on you to make my bakery look good, Lavender.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a nod.

Together, we carry the cake out to the truck, where our customer is waiting to pick it up. I bashfully try to avert my eyes from him as we secure the baked goods.

Then comes a hole in my plan to try to avoid having him notice my attraction.

“Lavender, Hawk here is going to be the one to drive you up to the wedding.”

“Oh... okay.” I stare at him, like prey looking at a predator about to devour him whole.

It wasn’t like this wasn’t the plan all along. Tabitha, my best friend, is getting married. I just happened to work at the bakery she ordered the cake from, so I figure I’d be there to give a personal touch.

When we discussed it, though, I was expecting Bear, Charlene’s husband, to be the one to come and get the cake and drive me to the wedding.

The towering man looks toward me, and a slight smile forms. It isn’t much, but it’s a bit jarring, considering the stone-faced stoicism he had worn thus far.

“How are you doing there? Name’s Hawk,” he says, his voice as deep as his stature suggested.

“Hi, I’m, uh... Lav... Lavender,” I say, trying to stay cool.

I’m not usually this much of a pushover, but something about this man melts any spine I had, into his hand, making me putty to do with as he pleases.

And I really like the idea of letting him do as he pleases.

I’m too pure for this. I’m the closest thing America has to a princess, and princesses do not fall for some sexy lumberjack or construction worker or whatever the heck Hawk is.

“Lavender, huh? We’re going to have a wonderful trip up the mountain, I think.”

Hannah smirks, her arms crossed and shaking her head. “A really wonderful time, indeed. I think I’m a bit jealous, actually.”

I crawl into the passenger seat of Hawk’s truck, and he hops beside me, turning the ignition. It grumbles to life, and we roll away, heading into the forest and along the dirt roads that give Evergreen Valley its charm.

All the while, I’m struggling to keep myself together. It’s not fear. I don’t think Hawk is going to do anything untoward to me. He doesn’t seem like that kind of guy, and the little I do know has him in the friendly circle of Tabitha’s future husband and her other friends. They tend to have a pretty good habit of filtering out the worst assholes one would expect in this neck of the woods.

I can’t help but feel him looking at me. His eyes rolling up and down my body, devouring me whole. How he’s probably thinking of what I’d look like without this dress or apron on, or anything else, for that matter, imagining all the things he wants to do to me.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

The tension is incredible. Is this sexual tension? I don’t know.

All I do know is that Hawk is making me feel things that I have never felt before in my life. Things I’ve definitely never felt before about a man.

I wonder if he’s going to break the silence. Or if I have to.

Because I don’t know what to say. He seems to be a man of few words, and I’m afraid of saying something completely stupid to ruin any chances I have with him.

Why’s this have to be so complicated?

Finally, we reach the site of the wedding. A little bit of nature that Tabitha picked out herself.

I hop out of the truck, relieved but also disappointed in myself for not saying anything. I’m more sure than ever that something is there, but I have no idea how to act on it.

Tabitha is there to greet me. “Lavender, you’re a bit late, but I’m glad you made it!” she says, greeting me with a big, hearty hug. I try not to mess up her dress with my return embrace.

“I’m so glad to see you too,” I say, wondering how I express my relief to be away from Hawk while still wanting him and disappointed in myself for not making more of it.

“Hey. Let’s get the cake,” he says, nodding toward me.

“Oh, um, sure.” I rush to the side of the truck, and we hoist the cake, then we carry it over to its designated spot. Luckily nothing happened to disturb it during our trip, and I don’t need to touch anything up. “There we go. All set for serving when the time is right.”

“It looks amazing,” Tabitha says, a hand on my shoulder. “You and Hannah really outdid yourselves.”

“This is all me,” I state. “I wanted to really put my own personal touch on it.”

“Then I revise my praise to just you.”

“Hey, Hannah’s been one heck of a teacher. I’m not professionally trained, I’ll have you know.”

My parents would lose their minds if I tried to use my scholarship for baking, of all things.

I watch as Hawk slips back into the crowd with his other guy friends. I’m feeling tense, like I want to go after him, but also terrified.

Is it even appropriate to go after a guy at your best friend’s wedding? It seems a little crass for me to do that. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.

“So, when’s it time to walk down the aisle?” I say to my friend, a smile forced onto my face.

I’m definitely not trying to distract myself from thinking about the hot, sexy mountain man.

I’m definitely not doing that at all.