Sweets to the Sweet by Jennifer Greene Read Free Book Online Page A

run a business and at the same time give Mari her complete attention. If he really wanted simply to sit there and fold diapers and discuss the merits of pacifiers versus thumb-sucking, it was fine with her.
    When he didn’t show up on Saturday, she wasn’t surprised. Sooner or later he had to realize there was no point in involving himself in her life. She made a pot of coffee and found herself staring out the window a dozen times, but she refused to admit she missed him. Laura was realistic. She didn’t have anything to offer this man. Or any man.
    It was just that the man seemed to have insinuated himself into her life so easily. He was someone she could talk to. Company. Someone who could make her laugh, who could put a sparkle in those mornings when a long day of chores stretched ahead of her, offering only endless monotony.
    And it did turn into one of those days. Mari decided to wake up early, and was fitful and cranky all morning. The phone never stopped ringing. Bridgeman’s had a customer who wanted a George III library staircase, Campbell preferably; could she find one? And an antiques dealer wanted her to track down a Gothic Revival birdcage.
    She knew of a library staircase in Indiana, and the birdcage she could find if she could spend an hour or two on line—but Mari kept crying.
    By midafternoon, Laura gave up hope of both commissions, hope of having lunch, hope of finding a moment to brush her hair, and simply paced the living room with the baby, back and forth, back and forth. She had tried putting Mari in the infant seat, the swing, the pack-and-go, the crib. Each produced furious wails.
    Humming lullabies, Laura carried the baby on her shoulder, walking in a pattern around the comb-back chairs, past the couch, through the kitchen, then back to the chairs. By the twentieth trip, her lovely house was beginning to feel like a prison, and Mari was still revving up in volume. By the fortieth trip, depression was trailing Laura like a ghost.
    The doctor called it postpartum blues. He was full of jelly beans. She’d always been an upbeat sort of person, a life lover, never one to shy away from trouble. And she certainly didn’t need a strange man cluttering up her kitchen to add to her problems. She would have no problems—just as soon as Mari quit crying.
    “Could we approach this rationally?” she whispered to the screaming little one. “I’m trying the best I know how to be a perfect mother for you, darling. I would do anything for you, Mari, anything. Don’t you know that? Dammit, was it the strawberries I ate this morning?”
    Maybe Mari didn’t like strawberry-flavored milk. Or eggs; Laura had eaten eggs for breakfast. Maybe the baby was too hot, too cold? Maybe she was bored, overstimulated, tired, not tired enough. Maybe the diaper was too tight, or hot tight enough…oh, hell. Maybe she hated her mother?
    “I take it the princess is having a royal tantrum today?”
    Laura whirled to find Owen standing in the doorway, his hands planted on his hips and sunlight framing his jeans and striped shirt. She was so glad to see him that she could have cried, except that she already seemed to be sniffling. She blinked rapidly, thoroughly annoyed that his showing up mattered to her so much. “Pardon?”
    “She does have a slight tendency to throw a temper tantrum whenever the wind blows the wrong way, doesn’t she?” A wry smile played on his lips. “Hello, Laura. Ready to hit the road?”
    He ambled familiarly toward the kitchen and returned seconds later with Mari’s diaper bag slung over his shoulder. “Can’t find your shoes.”
    Laura shook her head helplessly, motioning to Mari. “Where on earth could I take the baby when she’s acting like this? ”
    “With me.” He was astounded she’d even asked.

Chapter 4
    “I’m not sure how I got talked into this drive,” Laura remarked idly. Her eyes flickered from the contented baby in her arms to the rapidly passing scenery to Owen’s