The Sweetest Thing

by Barbara Freethy

  "That's great."

  "Why don't you go home, Faith, get some rest."

  "That sounds like a fine idea. Can you call me a cab? I'm too tired to take the bus, and my car is at home."

  "How did you get here?"

  "It was easier to go to Alex's place. He was going to drive me home, but I think I'll just take a cab."

  "Things didn't work out with him the way you wanted?"

  "No. But I'll survive. I always do."

  Faith walked outside and sat on the brick planter in front of her store. She hoped the cab would come quickly. She didn't want Alex or Jessie to come down the street and try to talk to her or invite her back to the apartment. She needed some time alone. She needed some time to cry, because there were so many emotions whirling around inside that she could do nothing but let them out.

  The tears held until she walked through the front door of her apartment. Then she sank down on the couch, pulled the warm afghan up over her shoulders, and cried herself to sleep.

  She woke up hours later to a dark apartment and a ringing doorbell. A spark of hope ignited within her. Maybe Alex had come to her.

  She ran to the door and threw it open, her arms wide, her smile spreading across her face, and saw -- Ben. Her smile faded, and her arms fell to her sides. She didn't know how she felt about Ben anymore.

  "Hello, Faith. I guess that greeting wasn't for me. Can I come in anyway?"

  "Sure." She stepped back and let him in.

  "You look like hell."

  "Thanks." She sat down on the couch and didn't bother to fix her hair or even straighten the wrinkles out of her clothes. She didn't have the energy left to pretend.

  Ben sat on the far side of the couch and laced his fingers together. He stared down at the floor for the longest time, then over at her. "I'm sorry about what happened on Easter. My mother gave me her version. I know she hurt you, and I know it was my fault. I did try to explain to her that I was okay with our breakup."

  "Well, that's something, I guess. And it wasn't your fault, Ben. It was mine."

  He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Hardly. After all, I had the great idea that we should get married."

  "Well, that was your fault, but the rest... I let myself get too close. I pretended I was a part of your family, but I wasn't, not really."

  "You were a part of the family. I messed things up big time." He shook his head in disgust. "I wanted to call you last Sunday night. I even picked up the phone a few times, but I didn't know what to say, so I just hung up. I came by the bakery Monday afternoon, but Pam told me you'd gone to Arizona with that guy." He paused. "You like him, don't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm glad you found someone."

  "He doesn't want me either."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  Silence fell between them once again. "His loss," Ben said finally.

  "You're right."

  Ben looked at her in surprise. "I am?"

  "Out there in the desert, there was so much space, so much aloneness -- it made a mockery of how lonely I'd felt living amongst all these people. I'm going to fill my space with people I love. And it doesn't matter to me if they love me back or if they share a common family name or a bloodline. I'm going to start making my own traditions and stop trying to live in everyone else's family. And if it's just me for a while, then it will be just me. That's okay, too. I hung on to you, Ben, the same way your parents hung on to me. We were all afraid to let go. But I'm glad we did let go. I loved your brother, and I love your family still. I even love you. So there."

  She smiled, wanting him to understand. "I thought I had to be someone else. Maybe that doesn't make sense, but all this time I didn't think I could be Faith Christopher, because it was just a made-up name. But you know what? I am Faith Christopher, and that will just have to be good enough."

  "It is good enough. I hope you'll still be my friend, because last night I took Tony to my parents' house for dinner. They told me I could bring a date," he said with a mischievous smile that couldn't wholly cover the sadness. "I told them everything. My mother became hysterical. My father stormed out of the room. And Kim cried, but she gave me a hug and said she'd still be my sister. I guess that's something."

  Faith slid down the couch and put her hand over his. "I'm sorry they didn't react the way you wanted."

  "They reacted better than I expected. I should have done it a long time ago. You were right. I couldn't spend the rest of my life living a lie. I don't know if my parents will ever come around, but at least if they do, I'll know they love me for who I am and not just who they want me to be."

  "You can't change people," Faith said, feeling more sadness settle into her heart. "I've learned that the hard way, more than once."

  * * *

  Faith spent the rest of the evening watching television, catching up on the newspapers and her bills, and letting the answering machine pick up her calls. She couldn't help jumping every time the phone rang, but it was never Alex. She thought he might have called or dropped off her bags at least, but he'd stayed away.

  It was for the best, she told herself over and over again. She had to start getting over him sometimes; it might as well be now.

  But her heart wouldn't quit hoping, and when the doorbell rang just before ten, she jumped to her feet. She forced herself to walk slowly, to take her time. He was probably going to drop off her bags and give her the big breakup speech, the one he'd probably given dozens of times. After all, Julian was married now and Jessie was settled as Alex's daughter. They had no more need for a bridge.

  As she opened the door, Faith wished Alex hadn't worn a navy blue polo shirt and blue jeans for this breakup, because he looked handsome and sexy and overwhelmingly appealing.

  Alex picked up the bag next to his feet and set it inside the door. "You left your suitcase at my building."

  "I thought you and Jessie needed some time alone."

  "Really? I thought you just couldn't wait to get away."

  "That wasn't the reason."

  "Wasn't it?" He walked into her apartment and shut the door. "Then why don't you tell me why you left?"

  "I told you." She looked away, uncomfortable with the fire in his eyes. "I thought you and Jessie needed to spend time together, and I wanted to check on the bakery."

  "Then why didn't you come back? Why didn't you let me drive you home? Why did you run away like a coward?" he challenged.

  "A coward?" A wave of fury raced through her, and she looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not the one who can't spend the night with a lover. You're the coward, not me. You're so afraid of getting hurt, you're barely alive."

  "Oh, I'm alive, all right." He grabbed her by the arms. "And I'm damned confused. You tell me you love me one night, and the next morning you won't speak to me. Why? Because I happened to get up and dressed before you?"

  "You just couldn't stand to wake up with me in your arms, to have to say something back to me," she said, not feeling as certain of herself as she had before. She had expected him to brush her off, not to be angry with her. "That's why you got up, isn't it?"

  "Actually, my ass was freezing. We were naked in that sleeping bag as you recall, and you were hogging the covers."

  Faith licked her lips, bewildered by his blunt words, sudden smile. "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that two nights ago, on a windswept cliff, I thought I'd found the love of my life and that she'd found me. Only, before I could tell her, she got mad and walked away." He paused. "It took me a while to figure out that she was only doing what I've been doing most of my life."

  "Which is what?" she asked breathlessly, still reeling from his words of love.

  "I always left before someone could leave me. The way I figure it, you just couldn't take one more departure, so you bailed out."

  "You're right. I couldn't take one more person saying, 'She's a pretty girl, but we can't keep her.' "

  "You are a pretty girl." Alex cupped her
face with his strong hands. "But I do want to keep you -- for the rest of my life. I want to tell you something, and you don't need to reply or even answer. I love you, Faith."

  Her stomach took one last inevitable tumble as his words sent a thrill down her spine and joy through her body. "Oh, Alex, I love you, too."

  He sealed her words with a kiss, a warm, melting, everlasting kiss. "Promise me you'll tell me again -- in the morning."

  She smiled into his eyes. "Are you going to be here in the morning?"

  "Yes. I arranged for my housekeeper to stay with Jessie tonight."

  "Maybe you should go home, Alex. Jessie needs you, too."

  "Jessie told me I couldn't come back without you. I want you to be my wife, Faith, my lover, my partner, my best friend."

  "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

  "And Julian's granddaughter?"

  "Yes," she said with a laugh.

  "And Jessie's mother?"

  Faith felt the tears well up in her eyes. She'd waited a long time for this moment. "Are you sure?"

  "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

  His expression turned serious. "I don't need a bridge, Faith. I need a wife."

  "And I need a husband."

  "We'll be Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan," he said with a smile.

  "Yes, and we'll dye Easter eggs and buy big Christmas trees and make up lots of traditions."

  "And we'll fill our mantel with pictures of our family, our children."

  "Children?"

  He pressed his lips against her mouth. "Yes, and I think we should start right now. But this time we're going to go slow, because we have all night."

  "And all morning."

  "And the rest of our lives," he promised. "In fact, maybe we should make a pot together."

  "Shut up and kiss me."

  And he did exactly that.

  The End

  READER'S GUIDE

  1. Almost every character struggles with the idea of home, of belonging to a family. Alex, Faith, and Jessie suffer through multiple foster homes or parent figures. In the end, they find makeshift families to love.

  Who would you consider your "family" at this moment - the people you go to for support and comfort and who you support in return? How many of them are part of a standard nuclear family? How many are friends or loved ones you've picked up along the way? Why do you think you've come together as you have?

  2. Ben proposes to Faith, and while she has never seen him as a husband she can't deny that they are compatible, that she cares for him, and that she loves being part of his family. She wonders what is enough to justify a marriage. She notes, "Just because Ben didn't make her heart race, or her palms sweat, or send a flutter of butterflies into her stomach, didn't make him a bad choice for a husband."

  If you are married, did practical reasons - for example, similar life goals - factor into the decision besides love? If you are not married, are your criteria for a partner pragmatic or romantic? Do you think it's realistic to marry someone and expect a lifetime of happiness purely based on an emotional connection?

  3. Alex grew up a sickly, weak child with awkward feet. Now, as an adult, he is fit, works out and owns a shoe company. However, no matter how much he exercises, he still feels like a weak, sickly child on the inside.

  Has your appearance changed since childhood - for example, have you straightened your teeth, filled out, gotten taller? Do you feel as though how you look now represents who you are? Do you still have insecurities from your childhood you haven't outgrown? If you haven't outgrown them, why do you think they still bother you?

  4. The Porter family puts a lot of stock in traditions. They have a weekly dinner, a weekly brunch, and holiday traditions like coloring Easter Eggs. Alex, on the other hand, didn't grow up with any tradition and continues not to have any.

  What family traditions do you have from your family? What traditions do other families have that you don't celebrate? Why have you chosen to continue certain traditions and possibly not others? Have you started any new traditions with your family - how did these come about? Why are these important to you?

  5. When Ben tries to convince Faith to marry him although she only sees him as a friend, he says, "Love can grow, Faith. It's like a garden. You plant the seeds in the dirt and for a while it looks like nothing, but after a few storms and a few good sunny days, you find a blossoming plant, thriving where there once was nothing."

  Do you think this is true? Or do you think you need to be in love at first to stay in love? If you're with someone now, did your love come about slowly? Or was the passion there from the beginning? If you've experienced both kinds of relationships, which did you prefer?

  I hope you all enjoyed THE SWEETEST THING. If you would like to print out this Reader's Guide, please visit my website.

  SILENT RUN

  Sanders Brothers - Book One

  Excerpt @ Barbara Freethy Copyright 2011

  All Rights Reserved

  Prologue

  Large raindrops streamed against her windshield as she sped along the dark, narrow highway north of Los Angeles. She’d been traveling for over an hour along the wild and beautiful Pacific coastline. She’d passed the busy beach cities of Venice and Santa Monica, the celebrity-studded hills of Malibu and Santa Barbara. Thank God it was a big state. She could start over again, find a safe place to stay, but she had to get there first.

  The pair of headlights in her rearview mirror drew closer with each passing mile. Her nerves began to tighten, and goose bumps rose along her arms and the back of her neck. She’d been running too long not to recognize danger. But where had the car come from? She’d been so sure that no one had followed her out of LA. After sixty miles of constantly checking her rearview mirror she’d begun to relax, but now the fear came rushing back.

  It was too dark to see the car behind her, but there was something about the speed with which it was approaching that made her nervous. She pressed her foot down harder on the gas, clinging to the wheel as gale-force winds blowing in off the ocean rocketed through the car, making the driving even more treacherous.

  A few miles later the road veered inland. She looked for a place to exit. Finally she saw a sign for an upcoming turnoff heading into the Santa Ynez Mountains. Maybe with a few twists and turns she could lose the car on her tail, and if her imagination were simply playing tricks on her, the car behind her would just continue down the road.

  The exit came up fast. She took the turn on two wheels. Five minutes later the pair of headlights was once again directly behind her. There was no mistake: He was coming after her.

  She had to get away from him. Adrenaline raced through her bloodstream, giving her courage and strength. She was so tired of running for her life, but she couldn’t quit now. She’d probably made a huge mistake leaving the main highway. There was no traffic on this two-lane road. If he caught her now there would be no one to come to her rescue.

  The gap between their cars lessened. He was so close she could see the silhouette of a man in her rearview mirror. He was bearing down on her.

  She took the next turn too sharply, her tires sliding on the slick, wet pavement.

  Sudden lights coming from the opposite direction blinded her. She hit the brakes hard. The car skidded out of control. She flew across the road, crashed through a wooden barrier, and hurtled down a steep embankment. Rocks splintered the windshield as she threw up her hands in protest and prayer.

  When the impact finally came it was crushing, the pain intense. It was too much. All she wanted to do was to sink into oblivion. It was over. She was finished.

  But some voice deep inside her screamed at her to stay awake, because if she wasn’t dead yet, she soon would be.

  Chapter One

  The blackness in her mind began to lessen. There was a light behind her eyelids that beckoned and called to her. She was afraid to answer that call, terrified to open her eyes. Maybe it was the white light people talked about, the one to follow when you wer
e dead. But she wasn’t dead, was she?

  It was just a nightmare, she told herself. She was dreaming; she’d wake up in a minute. But something was wrong. Her bed didn’t feel right. The mattress was hard beneath her back. There were odd bells going off in her head. She smelled antiseptic and chlorine bleach. A siren wailed in the distance. Someone was talking to her, a man.

  Her stomach clenched with inexplicable fear as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open, and she blinked rapidly, the scene before her confusing.

  She wasn’t home in her bedroom, as she’d expected. A man in a long white coat stood next to the bed. He appeared to be in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair, dark eyes, and a serious expression. He held a clipboard in one hand. A stethoscope hung around his neck, and a pair of glasses rested on his long, narrow nose. Next to him stood a short, plump brunette dressed in blue scrubs, offering a compassionate, encouraging smile that seemed to match the name on her name tag, Rosie.

  What was going on? Where was she?

  “You’re awake,” the doctor said, a brisk note in his voice, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “That’s good. We were getting concerned about you. You’ve been unconscious for hours."

  Unconscious? She gazed down the length of her body, suddenly aware of the thin blue gown, the hospital identification band on her wrist, the IV strapped to her left arm. And pain -- there was pain... in her head, her right wrist, and her knees. Her right cheek throbbed. She raised a hand to her temple and was surprised to encounter a bandage. What on earth had happened to her?

  “You were in an automobile accident last night,” the doctor told her. “You have some injuries, but you’re going to be all right. You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital just outside of Los Olivos in Santa Barbara County. I’m Dr. Carmichael. Do you understand what I’m saying?"