So This Is Love

by Barbara Freethy

  Turning away from the memories, she moved down the hall. Her room was at the far end of the corridor. It had been stripped down to the basics, a mattress and box spring, her old desk on one wall, her dresser on the other. The bookshelves were empty and so were the drawers. Only a few nails revealed that there had once been pictures on the wall. There was absolutely no trace of her childhood.

  She shouldn't be surprised. Her father had shipped her several boxes a couple of years ago, but it still felt a little sad to see how her early life had been completely erased.

  Moving to the window, she looked out at a familiar view – the Callaways' backyard. The large wooden play structure that was built like a fort with slides and tunnels was empty now. Like herself, the Callaways had grown up. She wondered if any of them still lived at home.

  "As you can see, I'm not set up for guests," her dad said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She turned to see him standing in the doorway. "I'm sure there are some extra sheets in the linen closet. I don't need much."

  He stared back at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Why are you here, Sara?"

  "I wanted to be here for your birthday. It's been a long time since we've shared more than an email. We should talk, catch up with each other."

  "Why on earth would you want to talk to me?"

  The confusion in his eyes made her realize just how far apart they'd drifted. "Because you're my father. You're my family. We're the only ones left."

  "Do you need money?"

  "This isn't about money. Mom would have not wanted us to end up like strangers. We need to try to improve our relationship."

  He stared back at her for a long moment, then said, "There's nothing left for you here, Sara. I wish you well, but we both need to move on. If you stay, it won't go well. We'll only disappoint each other."

  Her chest tightened, the finality of his words bringing pain as well as anger. Her father was like a brick wall. She kept throwing herself at him, trying to break through his resistance, but all she ever achieved was a new batch of emotional bruises.

  "You're a grown woman now," he added. "You don't need a father."

  "Not that I ever really had one," she countered, surprising herself a little with the words. She was used to holding her tongue when it came to her dad, because talking usually made things worse.

  "I did my best," he said.

  "Did you?" she challenged.

  A tickle caught at her throat and her eyes blurred with unwanted tears. She had not come here to cry. She sniffed, wondering why the air felt so thick. It took a minute to register that it was not her emotions that were making her eyes water but smoke.

  The same awareness flashed in her father's eyes. "Damn," he swore. "The kitchen—I was cooking—"

  He ran out of the room, and she followed him down the stairs, shocked by how thick the smoke was in the entry.

  She was on her dad's heels when he entered the kitchen. The scene was unbelievable. Flames shot two feet in the air off a sizzling pot on the stove. The fire had found more fuel in a stack of newspapers on the counter that had been left too close to the burner, those sparks leaping to the nearby curtains.

  Her father grabbed a towel and tried to beat out some of the flames, but his efforts only seemed to make things worse. Embers flew everywhere, finding new places to burn, the heat growing more and more intense. Moving to the sink, she turned on the faucet and filled up a pitcher, but it was taking too long to get enough water. She threw some of it at the fire, but it made no difference.

  "Move aside," her dad shouted, grabbing two hot pads.

  "What are you doing?" she asked in confusion.

  He tried to grab the pot and move it to the sink, but she was in the way. He stumbled, dropping the pot in the garbage. She jumped back from an explosion of new fire.

  "We have to call 9-1-1," she said frantically. But there was no phone in the kitchen, and her cell phone was in her bag by the entry. "Let's get out of here."

  Her father was still trying to put out the fire, but he was getting nowhere.

  "Dad, please."

  "Get out, Sara," he said forcefully, then ran into the adjacent laundry room.

  "Wait! Where are you going?"

  "I have to get something important," he yelled back at her.

  "Dad. We need to get out of the house." She coughed out the words, but she might as well have remained silent, because her dad had vanished through the laundry room and down the back stairs to the basement. She couldn't imagine what he had to get. There was nothing but gardening tools and cleaning supplies down there.

  She started to follow him, then jumped back as the fire caught the wallpaper next to her head, sizzling and leaping towards her clothing.

  "Dad," she screamed. "We need to get out of the house."

  A crash echoed through the house. Then all she could hear was the crackling of the fire.

  Buy On A Night Like This

  Excerpt – A Secret Wish

  (The Wish Series #1)

  © Copyright 2012 Barbara Freethy

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Chapter One

  Liz Kelly stepped up to the waist-high ledge that ran around the tenth-floor roof of St. John’s Hospital. Although the roof was a popular retreat for doctors and nurses on break, it was quiet on this Friday night. Just past seven o’clock, anyone not on duty had already left the building, trying to get one last warm and sunny weekend in before fall turned into winter. She loved the view from the roof, especially as night settled over the city. From her vantage point, she could see the cable cars chugging up and down the steep hills of San Francisco, the colorful sails on the boats in the Marina, and the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge blazing through a bank of fog hovering over the ocean.

  The view always inspired her. Up here she felt like she could be anyone and do anything. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to turn the inspiration into action. As soon as she went back inside, she returned to her old ways, to her safe, risk-free existence that was getting her nowhere. She liked being a nurse, but the rest of her life was in shambles. She’d lived with a half dozen roommates in the last decade, changed apartments three times, and had just been dumped by her boyfriend of three years.

  What annoyed her most was that Kyle had broken up with her. She should have been the one to break up with him. He’d fallen far short of her expectations, but she’d never been able to pull the trigger on their relationship. She’d always been afraid of being thirty and alone. Well, that’s exactly what had happened. But tonight was the start of a new decade. She needed to get it together, take a risk, and stop being paralyzed by fear of making the wrong decision. She had to take charge of her life and stop letting her future be defined by her past. She needed to do something...

  What that something was, she wasn’t quite sure, but she intended to find out.

  Mental pep talk over, she opened a small bakery box from Faith’s Fancies and slid out a miniature gourmet cupcake dotted with pink icing and chocolate stars. Chocolate was her passion, especially rich, dark chocolate. Taking a pink candle out of her purse, she stuck it in the icing, and raised the cake to the starlit sky. “Happy birthday to me.”

  Her muttered words seemed to mock her newfound resolve, so she raised her voice and shouted, “Did you hear that, San Francisco? Today, Elizabeth Karen Kelly is thirty years old and ready to take on the world.”

  She smiled, feeling silly but also energized. She pulled out a pack of matches from her bag and lit the candle, holding her hand around the flame so the wind wouldn’t blow it out while she was thinking of a wish.

  As much as she wanted love, she was also scared of being vulnerable. She’d loved her father and he’d turned out to be a horrible person. She’d loved her mother and had been left behind. She’d picked Kyle because he was solid and stable and seemed like the anchor she needed in her life. But Kyle hadn’t just held her down; he’d held her back.

  If Prince Charming couldn’t find her, perhaps she n
eeded to find him. Drawing in a deep breath, she made a secret wish. Someone for me to love.

  A gust of wind came up, blowing out the flame before she could do so. Probably a sign that her wish had not been heard. She felt an unexpected surge of disappointment.

  That was the problem with hope… it made the fall back to reality even worse. She should know better. She pulled out the candle and licked the icing from it.

  “Is that it?” a man asked.

  She jumped at the unexpected voice, the cupcake flying out of her hand and over the side of the building. She stared in bemusement at the man who’d appeared out of nowhere. He was tall, with sandy blond hair, and was dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt with Stanford emblazoned across the front, and a brown leather jacket.

  “You scared me,” she said, her heart beating way too fast.

  “Sorry.” He gave her a smile. “So was that the extent of your celebration?”

  “Uh.” She glanced over the ledge, realizing her cupcake was long gone. “I guess so, since you made me drop my cake. What are you doing out here? Didn’t you see the sign that said Employees Only?”

  “I don’t pay much attention to signs.”

  “So you're a rule breaker.”

  “When necessary. I needed some air. Sorry about the cupcake,” he added.

  “It was going to be really good, too,” she said with a wistful sigh.

  “How old are you today?”

  “I’m thirty – the big three-O. I don’t know why they call it that. It’s not as if O stands for orgasm.” Good grief. Had she said that out loud? For some reason, good-looking men made her jump into nervous conversation.

  He gave her an odd look, probably wondering who would want to give her three orgasms.

  She put up a hand. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t asking for volunteers.”

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

  “Yeah, right. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights.”

  His smile widened. “Not true. So why are you out here by yourself on your birthday? You’re too pretty not to have friends.”

  Her cheeks warmed as his gaze swept across her face and figure. She couldn’t help wishing that she’d retouched her makeup, taken her brown hair out of its practical ponytail, and changed out of her loose, ill-fitting scrubs. Not that it mattered. She’d probably never see him again.

  “Good line,” she said. “You’re a charmer.”

  “You don’t like compliments.”

  “I don’t like men who psychoanalyze me in the first five minutes of meeting me,” she countered.

  His grin broadened. “Got it. But you still haven’t answered my question. Why the solo celebration?”

  She didn’t know why she felt the need to explain her pathetic party – maybe so it wouldn’t look so pathetic. “My best friend just had a baby. Another one is on her honeymoon, and a third is home sick with the flu. I do have friends. They’re just not available right now.” Actually, her friends were rarely available these days. They’d moved on with their lives – getting married, having children – while she’d been treading water or trying to make things happen with Kyle. “And birthdays are not that big a deal,” she added.

  “I like birthdays. They’re a good time to make a resolution.”

  “Isn’t that what New Year’s Eve is for?”

  “Who says you can only make a resolution once a year?”

  “No one, but I don’t have much luck with the resolutions I do make. They usually involve losing twenty pounds, and so far I haven’t managed to make that happen. I have a terrible chocolate addiction. If only they made a patch for that, I’d be set.” Great! Now she’d just pointed out that she needed to lose twenty pounds. No wonder she had trouble getting a man.

  “A resolution doesn’t have to be about a diet,” he said. “Last year I ran a marathon. The year before that I parachuted out of an airplane.”

  “Well, aren’t you quite the hero.” She wasn’t sure if he was spinning her a line, but he certainly looked fit enough to run a marathon and young enough to taunt death by jumping out of an airplane. “What are you going to do this year?”

  “Sail under the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  “That sounds like fun. When’s the big day?”

  “Tomorrow. But I’m much younger than you – I’m only turning twenty-nine.”

  “Ah, twenty-nine – I remember it well.”

  He laughed. “It was only what, twelve hours ago?”

  “About that. Do you know how to sail?”

  “No. Will that be a problem?”

  She couldn’t help but smile back at him. His candor was refreshing, and she started to relax. “It might be. But something tells me you’re pretty good at getting what you want.”

  “I used to be,” he said, his tone turning somber. “I was the guy who had everything. Charmed.”

  “And charming.”

  He tipped his head. “I try.”

  “So what happened to that guy?”

  “Life.” A small sigh followed his words. Before she could ask what it meant, he added, “Are you a nurse here?”

  “No, I just love to wear these baggy blue shirts and pants.”

  “Right. Stupid question.” He paused. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Watch people die.”

  The change in subject surprised her. “Not everyone dies. Most people live.”

  “My father died here. It was long. Painful. Horrible. I’ll never forget it.”

  She met his gaze head on. “I’m sorry.”

  “I bet you say that a lot.”

  “I still mean it.” She knew what it was like to lose a parent. And it didn’t matter how old you were.

  “I was with my father when he passed. He fought for months to recover, but he couldn't beat the cancer. Even though I knew the end was coming, and I was relieved that there would be an end to his pain and suffering, it was still shocking when it happened. One minute he was there, then he was gone…” He cleared his throat. “Hell of a birthday conversation. I apologize again.”

  “That’s all right. Now I understand why you needed some air.”

  “The hospital smell sticks to my clothes. How do you take it?”

  “You get used to it.”

  “Are you off duty?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t I buy you a drink to toast your birthday?”

  “Uh…” She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if she had other plans, but he was a stranger.

  “I promise, no more depressing conversation. We’ll have a drink in honor of your new decade. I might even buy you another cake.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “That makes it better, doesn’t it?” he said with a challenging smile. “You can let your hair down. Be whoever you want to be.”

  She had no idea who that person would be, but the idea was definitely appealing. Still, old habits died hard. “I should say no.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not smart to go out with a perfect stranger. You could be an axe murderer or a serial killer or a life insurance salesman.”

  His deep, infectious laugh lit up the night, and his sparkling eyes made her feel like she’d been kicked in the stomach – or swept off her feet.

  “I’m not any of those things.”

  “And you’d tell me if you were?”

  “Good point, but isn’t thirty about facing your fears? It’s just a drink in a public place. Unless you’re scared of a pina colada?”

  “Why would you ever think I would order a pina colada?”

  “Because you’re too funny and honest to be the martini type.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Sophisticated, brittle, phony laugh, dyed blonde hair, icy blue eyes, doesn’t really give a damn about anyone but herself.”

  “That certainly rolled right off your tongue,” she said, giving him a thoughtful look. “Why do I get the feeling you’re des
cribing someone in particular?”

  “Guilty.” He paused. “Get a drink with me and prove me wrong.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t have anything to prove.”

  His gaze met hers and for some reason she had the feeling he could read her mind. “Don’t you?”

  His challenge hung in the air for a long minute. Of course she had something to prove. She was going to change her life. And what better way to start than to do something she wouldn’t normally do?

  Besides that, she was intrigued by and attracted to this man, this stranger, who’d appeared out of nowhere. The idea crossed her mind that maybe he’d been sent to fulfill her birthday wish, but that was a foolish thought. He’d just lost his dad after a terrible illness. He’d come up to the roof to catch his breath. He hadn’t come for her. It was purely coincidence.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  She drew in a deep breath, feeling like she was about to cross over a line she couldn’t cross back. But if she was ever going to take a chance, it might as well be now.

  “Liz,” she said. “My name is Liz. And I’d like that drink.”

  Buy A Secret Wish

  BOOKLIST

  The Callaway Family Series

  #1 On A Night Like This

  #2 So This Is Love

  The Wish Series

  #1 A Secret Wish

  #2 Just A Wish Away

  #3 When Wishes Collide

  Almost Home

  All She Ever Wanted

  Ask Mariah

  Daniel's Gift

  Don't Say A Word

  Golden Lies

  Just The Way You Are

  Love Will Find A Way

  One True Love

  Ryan's Return

  Some Kind of Wonderful

  Summer Secrets

  The Sweetest Thing

  The Sanders Brothers Series

  #1 Silent Run

  #2 Silent Fall

  The Deception Series

  #1 Taken