Over Joyed

  Over Joyed

  Jeannette Winters

  Copyright © 2019 by Jeannette Winters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Jeannette Winters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Also by Jeannette Winters

  By Jeannette Winters & Lena Lane

  Jeannette Winters

  Author Contact

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated all those future romance writers. You never know when your journey will begin, or where it will take you. Just be sure to enjoy every step of the way.

  * * *

  To my readers who continue to inspire me with endless messages and kind words. Always make time for romance.

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  Also want to thank Jade at https://meetcutecreative.com/ for a beautiful cover!

  Over Joyed

  Ace’s reputation for his unique designs has created a problem everyone wished they had, a long list of wealthy clients. All he needs is peace, quiet and strong coffee. That meant hiding out in his motorcycle shop for hours instead of being on his bike. The payoff outweighed the sacrifice.

  * * *

  Joyelle couldn’t wait to get up each morning and create a tasty morsel for her customers. All it took was one nibble or sip and they were hooked. Her dream was to make Tasty Tarts & Sweet Brews a household name, at least in Denver. That didn’t leave much time for anything else.

  * * *

  When she gets approval to expand her business, the neighboring shop is less than thrilled. Will Ace’s Wild Custom Rides be what finally drives out of Denver? Or will she win him over with something sweeter than any of her pastries and holds on for the ride of her life?

  * * *

  Other Books in the Series:

  Game Over - Cheryl Douglas

  Over Ruled - Lizabeth Scott

  Over Heated - Elizabeth Lennox

  Over Joyed - Jeannette Winters

  Chapter 1

  Don’t let it bother you. He does it on purpose. The ear-splitting sound of the motorcycle rumbling slowly by her shop practically shook her pastries off their trays. Joyelle Barnes was trying to be neighborly and understanding, but it was becoming very difficult.

  Grabbing a banana, she grinned. Bet this would quiet down that muffler. She wasn’t the type of person who’d ever do such a thing, but thinking about it brought her joy, maybe too much. It wasn’t like she’d ever actually gone over to his motorcycle shop to let him know the noise was bothersome. One would assume that he knew. And he doesn’t care.

  Joyelle peeled the banana and sliced it up before folding the slices in gently with a spatula. With all the distraction, she hoped she’d added all the ingredients properly. She’d worked damn hard to make Tasty Tarts & Sweet Brews the go-to bakery in Denver, and no thundering motorcycle, no matter who they were, was going to spoil that for her.

  It hadn’t been easy, building her image as a baker, because her reputation as a tattoo artist had been well known. Her tattoos had been top notch. There had only been one problem: she couldn’t seem to hold a job. The owners of each tattoo parlor had the same complaint. She…talked too much, and the customers only wanted one thing–a tattoo, not the story behind it.

  So Joyelle left her first dream behind and focused on her second. Becoming a pastry chef really was just utilizing her creativity in a new way. Besides, she could be who she wanted to be here, mostly because she owned the place. From what she could tell, none of her customers minded her being…happy. Even first thing in the morning.

  Even when Mr. Noisy thinks of no one but himself.

  She heard the bell chime, announcing a customer. Perfect timing, too. She had just finished filling the last cup in the muffin tray. Placing it in the oven, she set the timer and headed out to wait on her customer.

  Joyelle had a knack for remembering each person who walked through the door. This customer’s strawberry blonde hair and amber eyes made her stand out–Joyelle had definitely never seen her before. It was funny, but Joyelle usually could read what someone liked by their appearance. The woman wore a business suit. Conservative tastes. No problem. Joyelle had plenty of things that would appeal to her.

  Of course, the woman was lacking one thing–a smile. That is something I can fix. Happiness was contagious, and if that didn’t work, something sweet usually did. Mustering up all the positive energy she could, she set to turn this woman into a returning customer.

  “Hi there. Welcome to Tasty Tarts & Sweet Brews.”

  The woman had already been bent over admiring the pastries. She startled at Joyelle’s sudden appearance.

  “Um…hello,” she replied.

  Not the best first impression, but Joyelle wasn’t discouraged. She didn’t look like a donut type, but it was a sales trick she used. Offer them one, and then deliver what they really want. And never let them leave disappointed.

  “What can I get you today? You look like you could use a donut.” Joyelle already knew the answer would be no, but it was a great way to interact and get the customer talking.

  “Um…I was just…” she shook her head. “What do you suggest?”

  And that’s the opening I needed. Joyelle couldn’t contain her slight laughter, but covered it up with a bright smile. Eyeing her closely, she knew exactly what to suggest. “How about some delicious blueberry scones?” she proposed. “I just pulled them out of the oven, so the butter inside the layers is still hot and amazing!”

  The woman was tough, but Joyelle had this. “I get the blueberries from this farm in Maine,” she went on, “and the colder temperatures in that area produce the absolute best blueberries. They’re firm and sweet, which is really essential when I add them to the scone mixture. It’s not like making blueberry muffins.” she explained with an enthusiasm that was meant to educate and tempt. Joyelle took a blueberry scone out of the display case and cut off a corner, offering it to the woman.

  The customer popped the small bit into her mouth and sighed. “Wow. Just…wow.”

  Joyelle knew that look. The woman’s eyes softened and she seemed to melt. Nailed it.

  “Tell me that these aren’t the best scones ever!” Maybe a bit overconfident, but she was hopeful.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned.

  “See?” Joyelle beamed with pride. “Everyone thinks that the trick to making great scones is to freeze the butter and then grate it into the mixture. But they’re wrong,” she asserted with finality. Joyelle had her own way of doing things. Things her grandmother had taught her when she was a little girl. And Grandma knew best.

  “The trick is to freeze the cream until it is just on the edge of being very cold, then melt the butter until rig
ht before it separates.” As she shared her secret, Joyelle started packing a few blueberry scones into a box. “Then you mix the hot butter and the very cold cream, and you really have to use cream and not just milk, then the butter actually freezes like magic, but it’s already mixed into the cream mixture. Then when I pour the cream and butter into the dry ingredients, the result is the most amazingly fluffy, buttery, rich scones you will ever have in your life.” Joyelle was making her own mouth water. She loved baking, and talking about baking. When the woman chuckled, Joyelle wasn’t sure if it was at her or if she was enjoying this as much as Joyelle was. Either way, this woman wasn’t about to forget her trip to Joyelle’s shop. “As soon as the scones come out of the oven, I pour the icing on top so that the sweetness melts into the scones.”

  “I’m not sure I caught all that,” the woman said, “but I can tell all your…enthusiasm comes through in your baking.”

  That was a wonderful compliment. “Thank you.”

  Joyelle slid the box of a dozen blueberry scones onto the countertop and rang up the price. “Trust me, you’ll be back for more.” At least I hope so.

  “I’m Joyelle, by the way, and this is my shop.”

  The woman handed her the money, saying, “I’m Roxanne.” As she headed for the door, she added, “I definitely will be back, Joyelle.”

  Joyelle crossed her fingers. With any luck, Roxanne was on her way to work, even better if it was at a huge office or the hospital. She could almost picture Roxanne walking in with that box and her coworkers getting curious. One by one, they’d sample the scone. Soon, each would beg Roxanne to share with them where she’d purchased such tasty treats.

  Word of mouth meant everything to Joyelle. She was busy and her business was growing, but not as quickly as she wanted. Advertising cost too much, and she’d tried running an ad once but the return on investment was so small, it wasn’t worth repeating the experiment. She kept her prices down, hoping to make up the difference in volume.

  It’ll come. Just have to have faith. That was yet another thing she’d learned from her grandma.

  Looking back, it mustn’t have been easy for her grandma to raise her. But Joyelle’s mother took off with some guy in a biker gang and never came back. That is probably why the sound of motorcycles irked her so damn much. For years she had turned around anytime one was approaching. But never was her mother on the back of them. Now when she heard them, she turned away, never looking back.

  The sound of another loud motorcycle pulling out from next door meant another happy customer for them. Joyelle couldn’t do this any longer. It was time for her to go over and voice her concerns face to face.

  Grabbing another box, she filled it with an assortment of goodies. She wasn’t nervous about confronting the owner, but since it was their first meeting, it was nice to show up bearing gifts.

  Joyelle knew she needed to make this quick. She flipped the CLOSED sign on her door and walked quickly to the shop just a parking lot away.

  Here goes nothing.

  * * *

  All he needed was a bit of peace and quiet for a few hours and he’d have the draft ready for his client. Was that too much to ask for? Ace Deveins wasn’t expecting anyone else. His last client had just left with his new ride. There was no way it was him returning, because he hadn’t heard the roar of his bike.

  The knocking continued, even though his sign said CLOSED. At least they weren’t bold enough to just open the door and walk in. Of course that would be stupid, because he didn’t take kindly to unwanted visitors. There was a reason why Ace chose this place in Denver. It was quieter, and not in the heart of the city. Perfect for someone who wanted to be left alone. Today obviously wasn’t going to be one of those days.

  When he opened the door, he didn’t even attempt to hide his displeasure. He’d never formally been introduced, but he’d seen her outside enough to know it was Joyelle Barnes. And of course, she had a huge smile on her face and was holding a box of some sort of damn sugary shit. Peace offering for complaining about the noise coming from his place? Maybe. But he really didn’t care if it bothered her or anyone else. The city had zoned and approved this location. He paid his taxes just like she did. No cupcake was going to change his point of view on that.

  “Hi. I’m looking for Horace. These are for him,” she said in that chipper voice of hers.

  Ace didn’t trust anyone who was that…happy. Life was hard and unforgiving. Who knows, maybe she was on medication that made life more tolerable. But what he found most annoying was that she had no clue who he was. Ace could introduce himself now, but why? It’d only prolong a conversation that he didn’t want to have anyway.

  “He’s busy.” Or trying to be productive. And will be if you leave. He hated being such a gruff asshole, but he’d dated someone like her before. Once they get in, they don’t leave. And they try to change you.

  As far as Ace was concerned, the only thing wrong with him was his attitude from people like her judging him, when they had no clue what he’s all about. They didn’t care to see past his tattoos and biker lifestyle. Enjoying a good ride doesn’t mean I’m trouble. For the most part, Ace was a law-abiding citizen. But he also didn’t take anyone’s shit.

  Joyelle peered around him, as though she suspected he was hiding Horace. There was nothing there for her to see, except for the custom bike he was working on. She’d probably never even been on one, so he wasn’t worried that she was out to steal his one-of-a-kind design. But if she thought he was stepping out of the way and letting her sneak past, she was mistaken.

  It was bad enough to hear her from across the parking lot when his windows were open. The last thing he needed was her laughter echoing in his open shop. It’d be as painful as someone getting their nuts pierced. For him, to listen to her for any length of time, he’d need whisky. He steeled himself against her oncoming words.

  “Can you please give these to Horace for me? I’d like to speak to him when he has time. Maybe he can come by my shop.” Joyelle held out the box to him and added, “I own Tasty Tarts & Sweet Brews next door. I haven’t seen you there before.”

  “Nope.” He kept his response short on purpose.

  “Well, I’d be happy to give you a cup of coffee for free. You know, so you can see if you like it. You don’t strike me as a flavored coffee type. Hmmm. Let me guess, you drink it hot and black.”

  Damn. Not only wasn’t she leaving, she was right. That didn’t mean he’d be stopping in for coffee, or tea, or anything else she had to offer. “I make my own.”

  Joyelle was still smiling in the doorway, as she asked, “What brand? I get mine from a place in Rhode Island. They also make coffee syrup. You mix it with milk and make coffee milk. Have you ever tried that? It’s a…mazing. I know you can buy other brands already mixed, but there is nothing like the original. Yum. If you’d like, I can stop by with some for you.”

  “I’m not a milk drinker,” he said flatly.

  Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. You’re lactose intolerant. I do offer”

  “I can drink milk. I just don’t.” Damn. What didn’t she get? “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

  “Oh, of course! Sorry. Don’t want Horace firing you for taking a break. There’s enough in there for the both of you, so make sure he shares.”

  Reluctantly taking the box from her he said, “I’ll be sure to let him know.” At some point he really thought he’d just fess up to being Horace, but he preferred cutting this off now. She’d find out someday. And if she was upset and decided he was a jerk and never spoke to him again, that was just a plus. Yet he had a feeling nothing with Joyelle Barnes was that simple. Or brief.

  “Don’t forget my offer. I’m just a parking lot away.”

  How could I? He nodded and shut the door. Maybe it’d have been better if he had stopped in when he opened the shop a month ago and introduced himself. Then Joyelle wouldn’t be trying to play nice now. She already would have realized it was a waste of her tim
e.

  Ace walked back over to his desk and tossed the box to the side. He didn’t have any time for lunch or whatever snack she’d brought over. His client would arrive in a few hours and this draft had to be ready. Joyelle’s visit accomplished one thing; it fucked with his creative flow. Now where the fuck was I?

  Chapter 2

  “Grandma, I did. And the guy wouldn’t let me in. He said Horace was too busy to be disturbed,” Joyelle explained for the third time. She knew her grandma wasn’t hard of hearing, but stubborn was another story. She insisted that Joyelle could win anyone over with her smile. Joyelle knew otherwise. The man yesterday had been anything but receptive. If anything, he was more irritated the harder she tried.

  “Joyelle, I know you better than you think I do. If he doesn’t smile, then there is a reason. All you need to do is find out why or what makes him smile. If anyone can get him talking, it’s you.”

  “Grandma, I don’t have time to get the entire staff of Wild Custom Rides to like me just so I can speak to the owner. Besides, it’s not about us liking each other, it’s about respect. My customers don’t need to hear that racket.”

  “Are they complaining?” she asked.

  No one had actually said anything, but whenever Joyelle noticed the noise, she doubled down to keep them focused on more pleasant things, like the scrumptious baked goods in her display case.

  “I can just tell.”

  “Joyelle, would you like me to come for a visit? Maybe I can go over and speak with him.”