True Love and Other Disasters by Rachel Gibson Read Free Book Online

than herself, although that had been a part of it—especially in the beginning. But mostly Faith just didn’t like the uncertainty of sex. You could never tell by looking at a man if he was good in bed or not. There was never any way of knowing until it was too late and your panties were missing.
    Before Virgil, she’d had a lot of boyfriends and a lot of sex. Sometimes it had been really good. Sometimes it had been really bad. To her, sex was like a box of chocolates—and yeah, she’d sort of stolen that from Forest Gump—she never knew what she was going to get. Faith didn’t like anything that wasn’t a sure thing, and there was nothing worse than craving something wonderful and yummy but getting a horrible orange jelly.
    She hadn’t had sex since she’d married Virgil. At first it had been difficult, especially since she was young and she’d been fairly active, but after a few years of going without, she really didn’t miss it anymore. Now that Virgil was gone, she doubted her sex drive would suddenly come back to slap her in the head. And she just couldn’t see herself with another man.
    The doorbell brought Faith out of her contemplation of sex and men. She moved through the living room and the travertine tile felt cool beneath her bare feet. She and Virgil had purchasedthe four-bedroom penthouse last year, but they’d used it only on the rare occasions when it had been easier to stay overnight in the city. It was mostly finished in marble and tile and had an ultramodern feel. Virgil had let her decorate it, and she’d picked out white leather and tons of red and purple pillows. It had a main-level terrace that looked out over Elliott Bay, and a rooftop solarium covered with glass that had an unrestricted 360-degree view of the city, the busy waterways, and Mount Rainier beyond.
    She opened the door and a white ball of fur jetted past, its little toenails clicking on the tile. Faith felt an overwhelming urge to punt.
    “Mother.” Faith looked behind her own shoulder as a white Pekingese jumped up onto her white leather sofa. “And Pebbles.” The nastiest dog on the planet. “You should have called.”
    “Why? You would have told us not to come.” Valerie Augustine wheeled her large pink suitcase into the penthouse; her overly painted lips air-kissed Faith’s cheeks as she passed.
    “It isn’t that I don’t want to see you,” Faith said and shut the door behind her. “I’m just swamped.” She followed her mother and pointed to the pile of books open on the glass-and-stainless coffee table.
    “What are you studying for?” Her mother shoved the handle down into her suitcase andmoved toward the leather couch on her five-inch spike heels. Pink, of course. To match her leather pants. She picked up a book and read, “ Idiot’s Guide To Hockey . Why are you reading this? I thought you sold the team.”
    “I decided not to.”
    Valerie’s big green eyes widened and she shook her head, disturbing her perfectly feathered Farrah ’do. In the seventies, someone had told Valerie that she looked like Farrah Fawcett. She still believed it. “What happened?”
    She didn’t want to get into the whole story with her mother. “I just decided to keep it.” She thought of Landon reaching for her and Ty Savage stepping between them. She was grateful he’d been there. Grateful he’d stepped in. Almost grateful enough to forgive him for calling her “Miss January” in the press.
    “Well, I’m glad. Now that the old bastard is gone, you need something to do.”
    “Mother.”
    “I’m sorry, but he was old.” It wasn’t exactly a secret that her mother hadn’t liked Virgil. The feeling had been mutual. Virgil had provided a nice monthly income for Valerie, but there had been strings attached that Valerie resented even as she cashed the checks. One of them being that she could not show up whenever she felt like it. “Too old for a young, beautiful girl,” she addedas she tossed the book on the