Taste of Romance (2 page)

Kim smiled back and moved toward the next rose.

“Can I help you?” the gardener asked, walking over.

Oh,
no.
He had a foreign accent, Scandinavian, like some of the locals whose ancestors first
inhabited the area. And she had an acute weakness for foreign accents.

“I think I need to do this myself,” Kim replied. “My goal is to smell a hundred roses.”

“Why a hundred?”

“That’s the number of things on my to-do list. I thought stopping to smell one rose
per task might balance out my life.”

“Interesting concept.” The attractive gardener appeared to suppress a grin. “How many
more do you have to go?”

“I’m at sixty-seven.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He set the rosebush down, took off a glove, and extended
his hand. “I’m Nathaniel Sjölander.”

“Kimberly Burke,” she said, accepting the handshake. His hand, much larger than her
own, surrounded hers with warmth.

“I have to load a couple dozen roses into my truck for the Portland Rose Festival
tomorrow, but by all means—keep sniffing.”

Kim pulled rose number sixty-eight toward her, a yellow flower as buttery and delicately
layered as a . . . freshly baked croissant. Hunger sprang to life inside her empty
stomach, and she realized she’d been so busy working, she’d forgotten to eat lunch.

She watched Nathaniel Sjölander move between the potted plants. Was he single? Would
someone like him be interested in her? Maybe ask her to dinner? And why
hadn’t
she dated anyone in the past few years? She could argue that good-looking single
men were hard to come by, but the truth was, she just hadn’t taken the initiative
to find one.

Nathaniel made several trips back and forth between the greenhouse and the gate, his
gaze sliding toward her again and again.
Oh, yes!
He was definitely interested. Her pulse quickened as he approached her a second time.

“I think you missed a few.” Nathaniel pulled a cut bouquet of red roses from behind
his back and presented them to her.

“Thank you.” She hugged the flowers against her chest and lifted her gaze from the
Sjölander’s Garden Nursery business logo embroidered on his tan work shirt to his
warm, kind . . .
blue
eyes.

Oh, man, why did they have to be
blue
? Blue was her favorite color. She could get lost in blue. Especially
his
blue, a blend of sparkling azure with a hint of sea green. Reminded her of the ripples
in the water where the Columbia River met the Pacific Ocean just a few miles outside
Astoria.

“Sjölander. Is that Finnish?” she asked.

“Swedish. Most of my family resides in Sweden, with the exception of my brother and
a few cousins.”

His name was incredibly familiar. Where had she come across the name Sjölander before?
The Cupcake Diary!

“I’m co-owner of Creative Cupcakes,” Kim informed him. “Didn’t you book us for an
upcoming event?”

“Must be for the wedding.”

Wedding? She held her breath.
“Yours?”

He flashed her a smile. “No. My brother’s.”

“Of course.” She breathed easy once again.

“They’ve decided to have the ceremony in the new community park.”

Kim looked around, confused. “Isn’t
this
the new community park?”

Nathaniel laughed. “The park is two blocks down the street and much larger than my
backyard.”

“Your
backyard?
”

Kim’s mouth popped open in an embarrassed
O.
Heat seared her cheeks. No wonder he’d been watching her. He was probably wondering
what crazy chick was wandering around his property!

And as for the flowers? She doubted he meant them to symbolize anything romantic.
Why would he? She was an idiot! The guy was probably just trying to be nice. Or maybe
he thought giving her flowers would encourage her to leave. Worse—she would have to
face him again in a few weeks at his brother’s wedding.

With an inward groan she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could start the day over.
Or maybe the whole last decade. Then without further ado she set her jaw and looked
up.

“Thanks for the roses,” she mumbled. And before she could embarrass herself further,
she hurried out the gate and back to the cupcake shop—where she belonged.

Chapter Two

One who plants a garden plants happiness.

—Chinese proverb

K
IM WALKED INTO
the Creative Cupcakes kitchen, found a vase for her bouquet, and set up her art easel
in the back corner of the shop. Andi barely noticed her. She stood at the front counter
admiring Rachel’s engagement ring.

Both women had been acting like silly, love-struck sixteen-year-olds since they’d
found “their man.” Kim prided herself on keeping her emotions tucked away. She wouldn’t
lose her head or make a public spectacle of herself. If a guy liked her, he could
ask her out. If she liked him, she’d say yes. There was no need to get all silly about
it.

Dipping her brush into the paint jar of crimson blush, she swept the images of Nathaniel’s
garden from her mind and on to the white canvas board in front of her. Next, she used
a lighter shade, also one of the names of their cupcakes, pink champagne.

Lewy, Rachel’s grandfather, sat at the table beside her easel and raised a finger
toward her art. “If I could fit that into my memory box, I’d take it home with me.”

Kim glanced at the old man, who had Alzheimer’s, and the large cardboard shoebox in
front of him. He carried the box filled with personal mementos with him wherever he
went. Rachel and her mother had pasted family photographs on the top and sides to
help him remember whenever his mind got stuck.

Rachel stepped up beside them. “You like Kim’s painting, Grandpa?”

He nodded. “She paints love on canvas.”

Kim hesitated, glanced at him, then her work, and frowned. All she saw were roses.

Before she could respond, Andi joined them. “Creative Cupcakes is doing so well with
sales, we’ll finally have some extra money to spend. I haven’t bought myself new clothes
in years, and I can’t wait to get a new wardrobe for my trip to Hawaii with Jake.”

“You scored big when Danielle offered you the trip tickets she won from the Crab,
Seafood, and Wine Festival,” Rachel said, then burst into a big smile the way she
always did when thinking about her fiancé. “As for me, I’m saving for my wedding.
Mike and I decided to get married on Christmas Eve.”

Andi gasped. “You set a date?”

“Yes!” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “And I’d like both of you to be my bridesmaids.”

“I’d love to,” Grandpa Lewy agreed.

Kim placed another dab of pink on the tip of one of her painted roses and laughed.
“I think Rachel meant Andi and me.”

“Of course I’ll be your bridesmaid,” Andi said, wrapping her arms around her best
friend.

“Me, too,” Kim added.

“Grandpa, since Daddy’s gone, you can walk me down the aisle,” Rachel told him.

Grandpa Lewy grinned. “I walked down the aisle once. Beautiful day that was. I’d love
to walk down the aisle again.”

Andi’s face took on a dreamy, far-off expression. “I’ll be able to buy new clothes
for my trip, Rachel will be able to have an absolutely gorgeous wedding—with all the
fanciest trimmings.”

“Of course!” Rachel agreed.

“And I bet Kim wants some new paints and canvases, right, Kim?” Andi asked.

Kim hesitated. She wanted a whole lot more than art supplies. Since her paintings
won first place in the Portland show the week before, she’d been offered the chance
to open her own art gallery with a few of the other artists. But if she accepted,
she feared she wouldn’t have time for the cupcake shop, a fact she was reluctant to
tell them.

“New paint and canvas,” Kim repeated and managed a weak smile. “Yeah, something like
that.”

A loud, tinkering clatter sounded from outside, and Kim turned her head toward the
large front window in time to see the 1933 bread loaf−shaped antique Cupcake Mobile
pull up to the curb. It was Mike returning from his latest delivery. He got out of
the truck, and walked toward the shop. He nodded at an older man who was walking toward
the shop, too—Sam Warden, the owner of their building.

“He’s here!” Andi exclaimed.

Rachel kept her eyes on Mike as he whisked through the front door, followed by their
landlord. “Yes, he is.”

“I meant Mr. Warden,” Andi corrected. “Today we sign the new lease.”

Kim’s mouth fell open. How could she have forgotten? She should have told Andi about
her possible future plans. Now their three-month trial lease agreement was up, and
they’d sign another lease lasting a whole year. Could she work at an art gallery and
Creative Cupcakes, too?

Mr. Warden greeted them but avoided their gaze. Kim put down her brush and watched
him glance nervously about the shop at all the customers. Something wasn’t right.

“Where’s Jake Hartman?” he asked.

“He’ll be here soon,” Andi promised. “He knows what an important day this is. We’re
all very excited.”

Everyone except the building owner,
Kim mused and got up to follow them to the front counter.

“Where is it?” Andi asked. “Can I see the new lease?”

Mr. Warden shook his head and finally looked her straight in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Rachel and Mike exchanged a quick glance, and doubt crossed Andi’s face as she caught
on to the landlord’s apprehensive mood.

“What do you mean, ‘I’m sorry’?” Andi said, her voice dropping.

“I have to sell the building,” he told them.

Andi stiffened. Rachel pursed her lips, and Mike put a hand on her arm, as if to offer
support.

Kim glanced at each of them, then up to the long golden cake knife on the wall, the
symbol of their shop’s success when they first opened.

“What does this mean for us?” Andi demanded.

Mr. Warden wiped his brow with one hand. “I’ll give you a temporary lease to continue
the shop until somebody buys the building, but then you either have to close down
or move to a different location. Unless you buy the building yourself.”

“We can’t close,” Andi protested. “Not after all the hard work we’ve put into this
place over the past few months.”

“And there aren’t any other places available with a prime location like we have here,”
Rachel said, waving one of her perfectly manicured hands.

Kim bit her lower lip. If Creative Cupcakes closed, she wouldn’t feel guilty about
telling Andi and Rachel she wanted to leave to open her own gallery. On the other
hand, she’d discovered she had other artistic talents while working at the shop, like
cupcake decorating, and she, Andi, and Rachel had had a lot of fun together. She wasn’t
sure she could let it all go.

“Can we afford to buy the building?” she asked.

Their stooped, gray-haired landlord told them the price, and an unexpected stream
of sadness seeped through her memories and left her hollow.

Andi ran her hands down her apron. “Will you take payments?”

Mr. Warden shook his head. “I would if I could, but my son is very ill. My wife and
I have to move to Georgia to be with him and pay his medical costs.”

Leaving the temporary lease papers on the counter for them to sign, he attempted a
hasty exit and almost ran over the mail carrier on his way out.

For several moments they were all silent. Even the chatter from the customers sitting
at the white round tables eating their cupcakes seemed to turn into whispers.

Then Andi raised her chin and her face took on that steely look of resolve Kim had
seen so many times while growing up.

“The shop has had great sales, and we can work hard this month to gain even more,”
Andi declared. “We can do this.”

“Buy the building,” Rachel repeated. She didn’t look as confident as Andi but shrugged
and gave them each a mischievous grin. “Hey, why not?”

“It’s a lot of money,” Kim warned. “We got turned down for a loan when we first opened,
and I’m not sure three months of sales stats will be enough to change anyone’s mind.”

Andi reached under the counter and pulled out the Cupcake Diary and a pen. “Do you
remember what Mom used to say whenever we said something was too hard?”

Kim nodded. “‘Faith can move mountains.’”

“So we have a mountain to move.”

“We’ll need to set up a stand at more fairs and festivals,” Rachel said, pointing
to the calendar. “Book more outside events. I can initiate a promo blitz across the
Internet.”

“First we need to hire help.” Andi scribbled a note in the cookbook-style diary. “I’ve
had to turn away at least a dozen catering opportunities over the past two weeks because
we couldn’t produce enough cupcakes.”

Kim agreed. Hiring other employees was a
great
idea. If she left, one of them could take her place.

“I’ll give you money if you give me a cupcake,” Grandpa Lewy said, his memory box
under one arm as he made his way over to the display case.

“No, Grandpa,” Rachel told him. “You’ve already had one.”

“I don’t remember having one,” he argued.

Rachel laughed. “I think you do. You never forget about cupcakes.”

“That’s because they’re so good,” he replied.

“We could sell cupcakes at the Scandinavian Festival,” Kim suggested. “And maybe host
a Father’s Day event. ‘Cupcakes with Dad.’ All the kids can bring their fathers into
the shop, and they can eat cupcakes together.”

Andi shot her a wistful look. “Do you think
our
dad would come into the shop?”

Kim held her gaze, not knowing the answer. Their father hadn’t been there often for
them in the past. Not since their mother had died.

“I’ll be your dad,” Rachel’s grandfather offered. “I’ll eat a cupcake with you.”

“Of course you would,” Andi said, squeezing his shoulder. “I also think we should
sell our mixes online, make Creative Cupcakes a household name, and ship them all
over the U.S.”