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    The Way To A Man's Heart
    The Way To A Man's Heart
    The Way To A Man's Heart
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    The Way To A Man's Heart

    By Suzanne D. Williams

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    About this ebook

    Being honest with herself, the fat girl never got the cute guy, but the fat girl always fell too hard too fast. It was like knowing it wouldn't happen made her want the impossible that much more. Sitting on the couch with him, she'd been far too comfortable, and in that moment, she'd remembered she was a woman, prone to the same feelings of women of any other size and shape. But buff, muscular Eric Spader wouldn't end up with Liberty Unick, dessert chef extraordinaire.

     

    Liberty Unick grew up in Orangevale, the chubby girl kids made fun of. Though she's still not thin, she's turned her love of sweets into a prosperous bakery. The people who used to call her names now put their money into her pockets.

     

    Eric Spader bought the Orangevale Nursing Home, sight unseen, wanting to help others and find his purpose in life. He's never quite gotten over his divorce two years ago. Maybe with this new venture, he can make a home and finally move on.

     

    A happy circumstance brings him to Liberty's door, and an instant friendship blossoms. She's sweet and fun and a fabulous cook. Yet the closer they become, the more insecure it seems she is. When what matters the most is on the inside, where the chef at the bakery is fast becoming the best part of starting over.

     

    A clean romance for all audiences by best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS. General Fiction. 22,000 Words.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateDec 1, 2017
    ISBN9781386694601
    The Way To A Man's Heart
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      The Way To A Man's Heart - Suzanne D. Williams

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      © 2016 THE WAY TO A MAN’S HEART by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      www.suzannedwilliams.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      CHAPTER 1

      Orangevale always went all out for the Fourth of July. Red, white, and blue buntings draped from the historic downtown buildings. American flags hung on aluminum poles every ten to twelve feet, and plastic lighted stars twinkled at night on all the lamp posts. The shop owners joined in the festivities, changing their displays to fit the occasion. They also offered two-for-one specials on certain products and stayed open late on the day of the parade.

      Her bakery, the Orangery, was no exception. In fact, as well as having sale prices, she gave free cupcakes to any serviceman who entered. Generally, due to the heavy parade crowd, the place was packed, and somewhere around four p.m. she’d run out of at least two flavors. However, this year, the sky dark with rain clouds, the wind whipping the flags clean off their poles, she found her store empty and overrun with leftovers.

      Looking down at the couple hundred cupcakes melting in the summer heat, a frown formed on Libby Unick’s face. This is dollars down the drain.

      Her best friend, Cecily, snatched one from the edge of the box and peeled the paper back. There’s one less, she said.

      She smiled, despite her frustration.

      She and Cecily went back to elementary school. Cecily was the girl behind her who put gum in her hair, a big wad of grape flavor she’d stolen from a kid named Patrick. Her mom had had to cut it out, leaving a huge uneven patch on one side. You’d think she was mad at her for it, but instead, she admired her bravery.

      We could tote them to the Armory, Libby said. The cadets always enjoy them.

      Cecily gazed back, a blob of chocolate icing suspended on her left cheek. You’d need one of those vehicles they drive ... the big off-road thingies? All this rain washed out the bridge, and last I checked neither one of us has the stamina to swim.

      Cecily was right, of course.

      She baked desserts; she then ate her product. She did not exercise any of the calories off. Tubby Libby, the kids used to call her in school. She’d since grown out of the appellation, but not the habit. Opening the bakery had been a godsend, something she was good at that others could appreciate. It had also supported her eating habit, which, generally speaking, she was fine with.

      Except when it came to men. She had a taste for one with a cute smile, tight abs, and even tighter buns. Serve him up in a pair of low-hung blue jeans, a circle of hair around his naval, and she was one happy woman. But men of that caliber did not like pudgy females. They preferred those model types with big racks and even bigger egos. Therefore, she remained single.

      I’ll take half of them to the homeless shelter, Cecily offered. It’s smelly in there, but at least, the product won’t go to waste.

      That only leaves one hundred more.

      She crumpled her cupcake liner and tossed it, haphazard toward the trash can. It fell short, rolling beneath the edge of the counter. Libby made a mental note to dig it out later.

      So take them home with you, Cecily continued. Give a few to all your neighbors. Old Lady Everett will eat fifty.

      Libby spat out a laugh, not quite willing to admit she was laughing at someone fatter than her. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she straightened, her eyes moving toward the empty city streets. Rain pelted sideways, smacking hard on the glass, and someone’s umbrella took flight. They’d miss it when they stepped outside.

      I guess, she finished. They’re sure not getting eaten here. Tonight feels like me, a Hallmark movie, and a half-dozen leftover cupcakes for supper. Maybe they’ll use a cute guy as the love interest this time.

      Brunette, Cecily said. The guys are never blond.

      She’d preferred a brunette, though tonight if a blond would eat cupcakes, she’d overlook it. She closed the box, taping the lid. Rounding the counter, she bent over at the waist and groped in the floor for Cecily’s cupcake liner. She straightened, the wadded paper in her fist. Air swirled in her head. One hand on the counter, she inhaled. That does it, Libby said. I’ll walk to the mailbox and back twice tonight, then eat cupcakes.

      Cecily laughed. Mr. Hallmark will appreciate that.

      At least in my dreams.

      He was beginning to suspect he was lost. Somewhere a couple streets back, he’d gone left when he should have gone right. Maybe it was Orange Avenue East, not Orange Street East, he mumbled to himself. Whatever the case, the apartment complex straight ahead was not it.

      Orange Blossom Apartments, read the sign. He blew out a frustrated breath. Is everything in this city named after citrus fruit?

      Not that he should complain. Where he came from the streets were numbered, and that was just as bad, except most people could remember Third Street came after Second. It was just the directional endings that threw things off. Southeast, southwest, if not for his personal knowledge of the city, he’d have been just as confused as the visitors.

      Staring ahead at one of six brick buildings, he contemplated his choices and decided to knock on the first door and ask. He made his way up the concrete walk and into a covered portico, rain dribbling down his back, and there, passing a set of iron stairs, knocked on door 2B.

      Or not 2B, he said to himself. He smiled at his own joke.

      A gust of wind howled through the narrow corridor, giving a ghost-like squeal, and a spate of rain moistened his shirt sleeve further. He shivered, shaking raindrops from his coal black hair. The door gave a creak, the knob turning, and sucked open to reveal a woman, mid-twenties, holding an enormous box of cupcakes. Her eyes widened, their brown-gold depths strangely mesmerizing.

      I was wondering if you could help me, he said. I’m new in town and was looking for ... He dug the directions out of his pocket and smoothed it in his palm. Orangevale Nursing Home? I think I got off track somewhere a few streets back.

      She slanted her weight on one hip. Ah ... I see how this is.

      His brow wrinkled. Excuse me?

      She flapped one hand. If you’ll come in and promise to eat a cupcake, I’ll help you find it.

      That sounded fair,

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