Aimee Davison’s happy, carefree childhood was destroyed when she was seventeen. Now thirteen years after she returned home to Moonlight Cove, into her grandmother’s healing embrace and the safe fold of her lifelong friends, she still can’t bring herself to share her secret.
It’s been a long time since Finn O’Shay had a real home or family, but he found one in Moonlight Cove and her residents when he arrived to cater Celia Montrose’s wedding. He also found his one true love. The Irish believe wholeheartedly in love at first sight. Unfortunately, Aimee has no such illusions.
Working by her side in Aimee’s bakery, can Finn break through her long buried secrets and show her trust is one of the sweetest things in life?
She had to get some space between them before her weakening determination dissolved completely. "You seriously want a list of why I’m not interested in you?"
She concentrated on kneading the bread. "Fine, I’ll give you plenty. You’re tedious. You laugh at your own jokes--"
"Now, that’s not true."
She shot him a wry glance.
"I smirk at best."
"You’re funny looking and you can’t be trusted."
"I’m funny looking?" Clearly alarmed, he frowned and stepped behind her to earnestly study his reflection in the glass wall in front of her. The blamed thing was designed to allow her to see customers coming in or to keep an eye on their progress as they ate, to make sure they needed nothing. Watching Finn turn his head back and forth, examine his profile, smiles and frowns, she knew she’d never be able to look through it again. Tilting his baker’s hat to and fro, until he settled it in a dashing, gravity defying angle on his crown, he directed a confused look on her.
"No. I don’t see it."
She wanted so badly to giggle at the relief she saw wash over his face, but she couldn’t. Finn had no vanity in him. He was less self-assured than he’d like people to think. If he was questioning her statement, it was seriously concerning him.
"Cassie says so."
Aimee poured all the sympathy she could muster into her nod. "She says you have a baby face." She glanced at him and offered a gentle look of pity. "She says a woman can never trust a man with a baby face, because he never outgrows it. Says you probably had your mother wrapped around your little finger, not to mention, any woman you’ve crossed paths with since birth."
She paused and watched the reflection of him as his emotions changed from denial to considering, then from acceptance to defiance. He opened his mouth to say something and she quickly silenced him.
"She’s right, you know. That angel’s bow mouth, those big doe eyes with all that vulnerability swimming around in them. All that shaggy hair and the lock that completely refuses to stay off your forehead even when you tuck it under one of your ridiculous hats."
"Hold up there. My hats are not ridiculous. I pride myself on my hats."
Aimee gave her head another pitying shake. "Well, she figures you’re bald on top and only grow your hair out the rest of the way around to hide the fact that your ears might stick out. Which, by the way, she figures are the biggest things about you."
She squeezed her eyes shut, regretting that last sentence as it was leaving her mouth. Why was she playing with him anyway? She wanted him to leave, right?
"Okay, fine, then." He leaned closer to her. "But you know what they say about the size of a man’s ears."
His voice slid across her skin causing goose bumps to rise in its wake. She couldn’t resist. "The better to hear you with, my dear?"
"Oh, no, wait. That’s feet then, isn’t it?" He looked down and grimaced. "Yeah, guess you’re probably doomed, then, darlin'."
A smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t help it. "You are so aggravating."
“Yes.” His sigh was pure satisfaction. The irritating Finn was back. "And I’m so damn good at it."