Two years earlier

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’ve been here before, Emma.” David laughed. His perfect veneer smile shone as he pulled me into him, kissing my shoulder. I was sitting with my back pressed against his chest, leaning back to look at the man who had crossed the world to be with me. His legs were at the sides of mine and I’d been sifting sand through my fist onto his shin for the past hour, listening to his breathing behind me, enjoying our permanent reunion. The evening was perfect. Warm Atlantic air ruffled David’s dark hair as the waves lapped against the shore. A gentle taste of salt resonated in my mouth. We’d walked along the beach, had a picnic earlier in the day, and now we were simply relishing one another’s company.

“You know what I mean. You’re in the U.S. to stay, and you’re not going to leave me again.”

“I love you, Emma. I’m sorry this couldn’t happen before but now, I will never leave you, my sweet.”

A sense of calmness settled over me. I’d met David eight years ago at my brother Tristan’s wedding in Austria. I was thirteen at the time, and the fifteen-year-old boy who had waved to me from across the restaurant had caught my attention the moment his mouth curved up. He hadn’t been invited or anything, but Tristan being the spontaneous kind of guy, decided to propose to and marry Allie the same day. So when we went to a local restaurant for a family dinner, my brother hosted everyone who was there already, celebrating his happy day. And that’s where I saw David. He was sitting with his family and eventually asked me to dance. Not that I knew how to, but it didn’t matter, because David had some sweet moves. I’d wondered if it was a European thing because everyone knew how to dance. I swear it was an instant love kind of a dance. David was so different and polite, and with the little English he spoke at the time, he intrigued me. He literally swept me off my feet.

For a long time it felt like we communicated through the language of love. The gentle kisses on my hand when he greeted me and soft whispers in my ear in German sent chills and goose bumps along my arms that marched like an army of ants. He could have been saying You have something stuck between your teeth or There’s a booger in your nose and I’d still think it was the sexiest thing he could have whispered. For the first year, we kept in touch. I wrote letters on scented paper, leaving lipstick kisses in their corners. Once I got a chance to persuade my parents to visit my cousin Gabe in Austria, for two summers in a row, they knew that my summer fling was much more than that. David and I took turns visiting each other every other summer after that, spending the time to travel all over Europe and the United States. Needless to say, David’s parents weren’t pleased with the arrangement funded by my family.

“You’d better not leave me. Although your family would be happy if you did.”

His father owned a bakery in Vienna. It had been passed down from his great-great-grandfather, generation after generation, and David was supposed to be the next in line to take over. That was why his family didn’t approve of us – I not only took their son across the world, but also threatened the possibility of him inheriting his father’s bakery upon retirement. That was the stipulation they made to David: it was the bakery or me. And David chose me. He left everything and everyone to be with me. With the few months I had left at NYU, David said it was enough time for him to get settled here and get ready to start a life, together as a couple, once I was done.

“They’ll get used to it. They have to. I’ll open a bakery here and make you and them proud.” He squeezed me from behind, nuzzling his nose into my neck

“I’m already proud of you. What will you bake?” I tilted my head to the side to allow him greater access, knowing so well that this would lead to a hot and heavy make-out session on the beach. I prayed my parents weren’t spying from the window. I didn’t actually think my parents would be, but my overprotective brothers, Julian and Tristan – well, that was another story.

“I will blend the American and Austrian together into pastries that melt in your mouth, and bread you can’t wait to cool down to try a taste. I think the two mix together so well. Don’t you?”

Of course I did. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting there, waiting for the sun to dip into the ocean with the love of my life at my side.

“I agree,” I said. “And I can’t wait.”

“You will be my inspiration, Emma. What do you call it in English? You will be my moose.”

I chuckled, “You mean your muse.”

“Yes, my beautiful muse.”

The way he said that in his sexy German accent, I wouldn’t care if he called me a moose or a cow. I was his and only his, and he would be mine, forever.

We watched the sun go down, and just before it did, David shifted behind me, fumbling with something, and pulled out a ring in front of me.

I gasped. “David… what are you doing?”

We’d talked about marriage before, and about the bunch of kids we would have, but we’d always said we’d wait until his business was successful. David wanted to carry his own weight in America. He wanted to support me and our future family. My family’s wealth didn’t matter to him; I was the only one who mattered.

“It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s a promise ring to do right by you all my life, sweet Emma. It was my grandmother’s, and I’d love for you to wear it. I promise to love you and cherish you forever, and one day, when I can afford it, I will get you a ring as big as a mountain.”

I spread my fingers apart so he could slide it on.

“I don’t need a mountain, David. This is beautiful.” I moved my hand from side to side, watching the small gems twinkle in the last light of the day.

“There’s something else for you in my pocket,” he said.

All right, if it was any other American boy saying that to me, I’d punch him in the face because I was sure he’d want me to feel his shaft. But this was David, the most polite man I’d ever met. He would never stoop to such low measures. He didn’t need to. If David wanted me, he’d go straight for the kill, telling me how much he wanted to make love to me.

He leaned to the side and after a second-long hesitation, I pulled out a rectangular card from his pocket.

Turning the crisp card over I read, Sweet Emma’s Bakery. A New Jersey address was displayed below.

“David, you named it after me?”

“Of course, my love.”

I threw my arms around him, forcing him to fall backward onto the warm sand. Our kiss heated in moments. His hands grazed down my body, grasping at my curves and as he wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his excitement grow underneath me and wished for a private room where we could take this make-out session further than we were able to here. I pulled away before I lost track of time and space and let him venture into my depths.

“And you found a location?” I asked.

“We start the recreation of the place on Monday. It should be ready to open in two weeks.”

“You mean renovation?”

“Yes, renovation.”

“I’m so happy for you. For us. I’m sure your family would be proud as well, if you only called them, David.”

“I cannot. Not yet, Emma. Once I’m successful and I can pay for their tickets to America to come see me and you at the altar, I will.”

“David, I don’t like that you’re not speaking to your family. It’s my fault.”

“The only fault you have is that you love me. I couldn’t ask for anything more, my sweet Emma.”

“You know I can pay for their tickets.”

“And you know that neither I nor my family would accept such an expensive gift. Don’t worry, it won’t be long before I sell enough cupcakes and strudels to make it right. I promise you.”

“And I promise you that if they don’t want to come to our wedding, we’ll take our wedding to them. Even if I need to get the priest to stand with us at your father’s front door.”

“You’re a funny girl.” He shook his head. “Front door wedding. Well, I haven’t heard of one before, but hey, I’m just an ordinary man.”

“You’re anything but ordinary, David. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you are mine.”

We kissed for another few minutes before I shot up. “We have to celebrate.”

“I thought we were, my moose.”

I chuckled again. “No, let’s go out to dinner, David. Please let me take you to a fancy restaurant for once.”

“Emma, I couldn’t…”

“No, you need to. Think of it as research. We can order every kind of pastry, and you can see what American sweets you like to eat.”

“Sweet American cupcakes are my favorite. I don’t mind researching them here.” He shifted, cupping both my breasts, squeezing them lightly with a smug look on his face before his hands slid lower. “Or your perfect round buns,” he breathed as he grasped my ass, squeezing it gently. I reached back, covering his hand with mine. He twined his fingers with mine and pulled them up to his mouth, kissing them gently, saying, “And your lady fingers.”

His hands on me aroused me, and once again I wished for some alone time. “I feel like I’m part of your meal, David.”

“Because you are, sweet Emma. Nothing can be sweeter – no pastry I make or cake I bake will ever compare to the taste of you.”

Yes, this man definitely had a way with words that made me swoon in his arms.

“The gravy that holds us together is stronger than Earth’s.”

“Gravity?”

“Yes, gravity. I cannot live without you, Emma. You’re the one who holds my heart.”

“And you’re the one who holds mine. Please, David. Let’s celebrate.”

“Only if you promise me to have your cupcake later.” Eyes wild with lust, he gently bit into my shoulder.

I laughed at his grammar as I had so many times before, saying, “I promise. Pretty please?”

“I don’t know how you make your please pretty, but it sounds good on your lips. Is that what would make you happy?”

“Yes, that’s what would make me very happy, David.”

We rushed to the house to change. Knowing how much he meant to me, my parents had allowed David to use our guest house where I had some of my belongings already. I’d sort of moved in there, waiting patiently to find a place of our own when David would be able to make money at his bakery. I had just changed into a simple peach dress cut a little above the knees when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, David stood there in his white shirt that accentuated the tone of his naturally bronzed skin, sleeves half rolled up, and khaki pants. He held a single orange rose in his hand.

“I hope your mother doesn’t mind, but I got this from her garden.”

“Of course she won’t. Let me put it in water.”

I hurried into the kitchen and kissed my mother good night. We drove to New Jersey’s Liberty Landing Marina where I’d made a last-minute reservation. I hadn’t used my last name a lot to pull strings, but tonight was special, and I wanted nothing but the best for the two of us. And what could be better than the beautiful view of Manhattan at night? The sleek, modern restaurant held a friendly vibe, and my brothers had dined here frequently. I ordered the most tender rosemary lamb roast with spinach and sautéed vegetables.

When our waiter brought us a bottle of wine, I noted that his hand was shaking.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m just a little nervous. I’m about to propose to my girl after my shift ends.”

“Is that her at the bar?” I regarded the girl with a funky hair cut who kept sneaking a peak at our waiter.

“Yes, that’s my Grace.” Undeniable love beamed from his eyes.

“For what it’s worth, I think she’ll say yes.”

His eyes widened in response, and I continued, “I don’t think you should wait. I think you should go over there right now, and ask her.”

“But…”

“Your boss will understand. If you love someone” – I gazed back at David – “nothing should keep you apart. No distance or family or any barrier you may think is between you. The only thing standing in your way is the ten feet you need to cross.”

“All right. Thank you, ma’am.”

I gave him an encouraging smile, and he set our wine bottle at the table and headed for the bar.

“True words,” David whispered as I watched the waiter get down on one knee and propose, feeling an elation in my heart. The entire restaurant clapped and cheered as he lifted the girl up in the air and yelled out happily, “She said yes!”

“With your instincts, you should be a matchmaker,” David said.

Little did I know, my future work at Cross Enterprises would lead me to tear couples apart instead of uniting them.

While our waiter chatted with his fiancée by the bar, his co-worker cleaned our table.

“Emma, this dinner was exclusive.”

“Exquisite?”

“Yes, exquisite.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now for the best part of our meal…”

With perfect timing, our waiter rolled up a cart of desserts to our table.

“Emma, this is too much. I’ll be spoiled.”

“You mean that I’m spoiling you.”

“Right.” He reached forward over the table for my hand and lowered his lips to leave their warm trail on my skin. Shivers ran up my spine as he said, “And later I promise to spoil you too.”

“OK, try the chocolate mousse. It’s delicious.” I passed him a spoonful across the table.

“Mousse, muse, moose. They all sound the same. I may need another private English lesson from you, Emma.”

“Every time I give you a lesson, we end up in bed.”

“That’s the best way to learn.” He took the spoonful I offered into his mouth.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Emma.” He motioned with his finger, beckoning me to lean in toward him, before he whispered, “You taste much sweeter. Let’s go home, my moose.”

I’ll never forget those words, as they were his last. With the exception of somehow feeling David’s heavy body on top of mine, as he whispered Everything will be all right, my moose, my memory didn’t let me recall what happened next. But my family told me enough to fill in the missing pieces.

A ship carrying propane tanks that was passing by the restaurant had exploded, tearing half the restaurant apart. Apparently David had jumped on top of me to protect me, saving my life. When firefighters pulled us out of the rubble, we were both unconscious. A metal rod had pierced the top of my leg and David’s lower abdomen, joining us. Shards of glass were embedded into his back and his head, killing him, as his body acted as a shield to mine. It wasn’t until I got to the hospital that his body was torn away from mine.

I was allowed to leave the hospital for one hour to attend David’s funeral. His parents came, and when given the chance to take his body back to his homeland, they refused. In that single moment I was happy that David wasn’t there to witness it. It broke my heart. But I promised David that he’d never be forgotten. There would never be a day without a flower on his grave. He would always own a piece of my heart. After the funeral, as my brothers pushed my wheelchair toward the car, David’s parents screamed at me, It’s your fault. It’s your fault. I lowered my head and couldn’t even reply.

I didn’t speak for weeks while in recovery, not even to any of my family members. They thought I’d gone insane. And then one day, they wheeled Grace into my room. I recognized her funky haircut immediately, and we had an instant connection that grew into a friendship closer than many sisters probably had. She was the only one who understood my pain, because just like me, that night, Grace had lost her love as well, her fiancée who had proposed to her that fateful evening. We made a pact, and as soon as I was able to, I moved out of my parents’ house and into Tristan’s old condo in Manhattan, where as it turned out Grace had her apartment three floors below me.