The Sweetest Thing

by Barbara Freethy

  Before Ben could reply, she heard the toilet flush and the faucet go on.

  "Oh, my God! You have a woman here." Her jaw dropped open in shock.

  "You said no, Faith. What's it to you?"

  "I'm surprised, that's all. Yesterday you seemed desperate to marry me, and now you're with someone else." She shook her head in bewilderment. Something wasn't right. "If you have someone else in your life, Ben, why are you holding on to me? Why don't you ask whoever spent the night to marry you?"

  "Yeah, why don't you?" a man said.

  Faith swiveled around, caught off guard by the deep male voice coming from the hallway. Her eyes widened. It was the man from the restaurant. The one who said he was a friend of Ben's. And he was wearing boxer shorts. And Ben -- Ben was wearing boxer shorts. And there was only one bedroom, one bed.

  "Oh, my God!" she said.

  "It's not what you think," Ben said quickly.

  "It's exactly what she thinks," the other man said. "We met before, Faith. Remember? Tony Benedetti."

  "Of course I remember. What's going on?"

  Ben licked his lips, his gaze darting back and forth between his friend and Faith.

  "Tell her, Ben. Tell her what's really going on," Tony said.

  "Faith, I -- I can't." Ben slumped down on the arm of a chair.

  Faith stared at him for a long moment, knowing the truth despite his inability to tell it. "Ben, you should have told me."

  He looked at her through reddened, pain-filled eyes. "How could I?"

  "I'm your friend." Faith paused and glanced at Tony. "Would you mind if I speak to Ben alone?"

  "Go ahead. Maybe you can get him to stop denying who he is and what he wants."

  Tony vanished into the bedroom, and Faith took a seat on the couch across from Ben. Finally Ben looked at her and said, "You wouldn't have been my friend if you knew the truth about me."

  "How can you say that? I don't judge people. But, Ben, I don't understand why you asked me to marry you when -- when you're gay."

  "Because I don't want to be gay." Ben jerked to his feet. "I don't want to be different. I want to fit in. I want to be the son my parents want. My father gave me that watch, Faith, to pass on to my son, to tell him about the Porter men." Ben shook his head in utter defeat. "I'm not much of a man."

  "You're a very good man. You're smart, personable, articulate, artistic, sensitive, romantic."

  He gave her a rueful smile. "If I was all those things, you would have said yes. But thanks for trying to make me feel better."

  "You are all those things, but we both knew something was missing between us. Chemistry."

  "I know. I thought we could make it happen. I would have been a good husband. I would have been faithful to you."

  "And you would have lost yourself along the way." She got to her feet. "You have to tell your parents."

  "No! No way. And you can't tell them either. I'll find another woman to marry. It can still work. I'll just have to start over."

  "You can't marry someone and pretend to be straight. It wouldn't be right."

  "I won't be pretending. I'll be straight. I'll give it up. I can do it."

  "Ben, your parents love you. They might be surprised. Okay, they might be shocked, and it might take a few days for them to come to terms with the new you, but I believe they will come around. Because they're your family."

  Ben shook his head. "You have such an idealized view of family, Faith. Make no mistake. This would kill them. They already lost one son. I won't make them lose another. I'll carry this secret to my grave."

  Faith wanted to argue, but didn't know what to say, how to convince him. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was giving his family more credit than they deserved. But she'd seen firsthand how they protected one another, how they showed their love and affection every day of their lives.

  "Did Gary know?" she asked, as the silence drew out between them.

  "He suspected. He never asked me outright, but he told me once that he hoped I'd be happy no matter what anyone else thought. I sort of figured he knew."

  "He wouldn't have held it against you."

  "No, Gary was the perfect son."

  There was no rancor in his voice, no anger, just a simple acceptance of a basic fact, at least the way Ben saw it.

  "I don't think your parents expect you to be perfect."

  "Maybe not. But they certainly don't expect me to be gay."

  "You have to tell them we're not getting married."

  "I will," he promised, but he sounded a bit vague.

  "When?"

  "When the time is right."

  "Today, Ben. Your mother is driving me crazy."

  "They've given you so much, Faith. Can't you give them a few days of happiness before we break their hearts again?"

  His sharp words were grossly unfair, but they still hurt. "You created this situation, Ben."

  "Not entirely. You could have said no outright. But admit it, you were tempted, just as I was, to give my parents the wedding they wanted, and to give yourself the family you wanted. Well, family comes with good and bad, and right now you're going to have to take some of the bad, because I need time to figure things out."

  "You don't need time, you need a kick in the butt." Faith stormed over to him. She grabbed his arms and gave him an impatient, frustrated shake. She was so angry, she wanted to hit him. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stand up. Be who you are."

  "Easy for you to say. You don't have a family to lose."

  His words shot through her like a bullet, and she fell back a step. His words hurt her deeply, because he was right. She'd been pretending the Porters were her family, but they weren't, and they never would be. It was about time she faced that fact. They loved her because of her connection to Gary, not for herself.

  "I'm sorry, Faith. I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "You're right. I don't have a family to lose. But you have a family to keep."

  "And I'll keep them by not telling the truth. Since Gary died, for the first time in my life, my parents have been proud of me. And it feels good, damn good. I don't want to lose it. I know -- I'm an ass, a needy, pitiful ass. But God help me, I can't seem to stop wanting their approval." His eyes filled with pain. "As soon as I tell them our wedding is off -- not to mention the other -- I'll go right down to the bottom of the list once again."

  Faith squared her shoulders and thrust her chin in the air. She instinctively went into survival mode, the way she'd done every time she'd had to leave one family to go to another. She knew that her relationship with the Porters would never be the same after this. She'd have to go on alone, but she would do it.

  "Faith, just give me some time."

  "No." She was getting tired of all the men in her life calling the shots. "This is not my problem, Ben. It's yours. I won't continue to lie to your parents. It will only hurt them more in the long run. Fix this, or I will."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nancy didn't come to work that day. Instead she called in sick with a cold. Faith offered sympathy and hung up before Nancy could quiz her on the wedding. Despite her intention to end the pretense, she didn't want to do it over the phone or while Nancy was ill.

  Instead, she took out her anger and frustration and bewilderment on every piece of rough dough she could find. She must have looked angry, because Pam and Leslie kept their distance most of the day. Jessie dropped in before lunch, but after a few minutes, left with a quick "See ya later."

  By late afternoon, Faith was simply too tired to fight with herself or anyone else. She'd slept little the night before, reliving every moment with Alex, and she'd spent the entire day thinking about her conversation with Ben.

  To hell with the both of them, she decided. In fact, she would have sworn off men entirely if Julian hadn't come into the bakery just before four with one last plea for help. If he hadn't looked so weary, so hopeless, she might have turned on him, too, but she couldn't do it.

  Instead she sat down with a cup
of coffee and asked him what he'd discovered.

  Julian pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her. There was an address written down, but nothing else.

  "What's this?" she asked.

  "I spoke with the pastor at the church in Monterey. He called me back late last night. Unfortunately, Harry Conrad left their church in 1982."

  "Oh, dear."

  "But after Harry left their church, he went to a church in San Jose. I talked to a woman at that church this morning, who confirmed that Harry was the pastor there, but he died two years ago."

  "And Suzannah?"

  "She knew Suzannah had moved out of the area, but she wasn't sure where. She did, however, have an address for Harry's brother, Russell."

  "That's great," Faith said, excitement stirring in her veins. It was unbelievable that they'd traced fifty years in just a few days. "Did you get a phone number?"

  "The woman didn't even know if the address was still good. I checked the phone book, and there were lots of Conrads listed in San Jose, but none with the first name of Russell. I can't believe we've come so far only to be blocked now."

  Faith patted him on the hand. "Don't despair. This is good news. San Jose is only an hour away."

  "Do you really think this is good news?" Julian sent an uneasy look toward the door. "It's getting windier, Miss Faith. I don't like it."

  Faith had to admit that the breeze had definitely picked up, but it was spring, and this corridor of downtown San Francisco was always a bit windy. "Let's not worry about the wind for now. I guess the best thing to do is to drive down to San Jose and see if anyone at this address knows Suzannah."

  "Do you think it's worth the trip?"

  "Definitely. This is our first real lead. I'm just glad Harry's brother lived in San Jose and not halfway across the country."

  "Fate," Julian said with a small smile. "I came here for a reason. I knew that here I would find the answers or at least the path to the answers." He took the paper out of her hand and returned it to his wallet. "Then we'll go -- as soon as Alex gets here."

  "Alex?" She couldn't stop the nervous dive of her stomach. "Why do we need Alex?"

  "He said he wanted to go with us."

  "You told him about the address?"

  "Of course."

  "Oh, well, the two of you can go without me. I'm kind of busy anyway."

  This time Julian reached out to pat her hand. "Don't despair, Miss Faith. To every thing there is a season -- a time to love, a time to hate."

  His smile eased her tension somewhat. "I don't think the poet was talking about Alex and me. But you do have a way with words. Not your own words, mind you."

  He grinned back at her. "Why should I write my own words when there are so many already written? And why shouldn't you love my grandson?"

  She started at the direct question. "Because."

  "Because why?"

  She got to her feet and set her coffee cup down on the counter. "There are a million reasons why I shouldn't love your grandson. The best one being that he doesn't want me to love him."

  "He's afraid of love. You said so yourself. He won't let himself care about Jessie and he won't let himself care about you. If he doesn't care, he won't get hurt."

  "I wouldn't have thought Alex was a coward."

  "My grandson will jump out of airplanes. He'd sail straight into a storm if he had to save someone's life, and he'd walk through fire to sell his damn shoes. But give his heart..." Julian shook his head. "It's the curse Miss Faith. It must be broken."

  "Do you really think if we find Suzannah and the other half of the pot -- if we somehow put it back together and take it back to where you found it -- do you really believe that your life, that Alex's life, will change?"

  Julian looked straight into her eyes, into her heart. She knew the answer she longed to hear. She wanted to believe in the dream as much as Julian did. "Or are we tilting at windmills, like Don Quixote in his impossible quest?"

  "All of our lives will change forever, Miss Faith. I know it. Here in my heart." He placed a hand on his chest. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

  She wanted to believe him -- so much.

  They both started when the door opened. Even before the man stepped into the bakery, she knew who it was. She could feel his presence in every tiny nerve ending in her body, every breath she drew.

  "Alex," she whispered, putting a hand on the counter next to her. She felt suddenly weak, overwhelmed. She'd made love to this man last night. She'd seen him naked. She'd felt him tremble in her arms. But now, now he seemed like a stranger, so strong and tall and handsome in his charcoal gray suit and red tie. His eyes no longer held the glaze of desire. Instead he looked remote, hard, almost in pain.

  "Hello, Faith, Grandfather."

  "Alex." Julian looked from one to the other. "I'll wait outside for you. Is Jessie--"

  "In the car," Alex said, his gaze fixed on Faith.

  She wanted to look away, to walk away, to do something, but she couldn't move.

  Alex shut the door and walked toward her, stopping a foot away. "How -- how are you?"

  "Fine." She swallowed hard and offered him a bright if somewhat nervous smile. It was the best she could do under the circumstances. "And you?"

  "Good. A little tired. I didn't sleep much."

  Because you were thinking about me? Remembering the way we touched, the way we kissed, the way our bodies fit together...?

  "Faith?" He started, then stopped.

  "What?" She looked into his blue, blue eyes and saw remorse. "Don't say you're sorry."

  "Not for making love to you -- for leaving without saying good-bye. I didn't want you to think it was you, that you did anything wrong."

  "I knew why you left."

  He shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't know what to say."

  "Me either."

  Another silence fell between them. It had been so easy to talk to him the night before.

  "You're angry," he ventured.

  She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I had a good time last night. I don't regret what happened."

  "Really?" His face took on new life. "I'm glad to hear that. I thought I might have hurt you."

  "You were wonderful, Alex. The two of us together are incredible. Only, you'll never admit that."

  "Oh, I can admit that, Faith." He moved closer to her, so close she could almost taste him. "But I told myself to stay away from you. A foot between us at all times," he murmured.

  His mouth was so close to hers, they couldn't have gotten a penny between them.

  "I can't resist," he said.

  "Don't."

  He kissed her, and all the doubts and insecurities fled with the touch of his mouth on hers. She wanted him in spite of everything. And he wanted her, too.

  Alex pressed her back against the counter as his tongue danced with hers, a wild, erotic mating that touched off every erogenous zone in her body. She wanted his mouth everywhere, giving, taking, loving...

  The door opened and a cool wind blew some sense between them.

  "Oh, excuse me," a woman said.

  Faith hastily extricated herself from Alex's arms. "It's okay. What -- what can I get for you?"

  The young woman stepped up to the counter as Alex moved briskly over to a table, picking up the Wall Street Journal as if he had nothing more on his mind than stock quotes.

  "I thought I wanted pastry, but -- does he have a brother?'' she asked in a hushed voice, tipping her head toward Alex.

  Faith smiled. "Sorry."

  "Too bad. I guess I'll have to settle for a half dozen croissants."

  Faith filled the woman's order, took the money, and then followed her to the door. She flipped the sign from Open to Closed but didn't have time to turn around before Alex's arms were around her waist, his lips nuzzling her ear.

  "You smell good enough to eat."

  "That's because I work in a bakery." She turned in his embrace. "One of the fringe benefit
s of kissing a pastry chef. You get the sugar without the calories."

  "Mm-mm, how can I resist that?"

  His kiss was tender but brief. "As much as I'd like to indulge my sweet tooth, my grandfather and Jessie are waiting for us."

  "For you."

  "For us. I'm not going on this quest without you."

  "You don't need me."

  "I do need you."

  She wanted to believe there was more behind his words than just a simple desire to have her along on the search for Suzannah, but she was afraid to read him that closely. Her heart was still bruised from his hasty departure the night before.

  "Come with us," Alex urged. "You always know exactly what to say to my grandfather. If we get bad news about Suzannah, I don't know how he'll take it, and it worries me."

  She wanted to ask him if that meant he was actually letting himself care about his grandfather, but decided it was too early to rock that boat. "All right. I'll come. Just let me put a few things away and lock the door."

  "The car is out front. I'll be waiting."

  "Alex?"

  He paused at the door. "Yes?"

  "Next time you leave, say good-bye. Don't just disappear. I can take a lot, but I can't take that."

  Alex nodded. "Is there going to be a next time?"

  "I guess that depends on how dangerously you want to live."

  * * *

  He wanted to live very dangerously, Alex decided, as Faith came out of the bakery wearing a short baby pink knit skirt with a white shell and a matching pink sweater. She looked like a cream puff, and he could eat her up, starting with her toes, working his way up those long, gorgeous legs, to her beautifully rounded... He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, suddenly aware that Julian was staring at him.

  "She's a fine-looking woman, Miss Faith."

  "Yes," Alex said shortly. He didn't want to discuss Faith with his grandfather, especially not with Jessie sitting in the backseat. Instead, he turned the key in the ignition, while Faith opened the door to the backseat and slid in next to Jessie.

  "Hi, Jess," she said. "Where did you disappear to earlier?"

  "I didn't feel like baking today. I don't think I could stand looking at another bunny cookie."