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Authors: Bonnie Blythe

Tags: #france, #chocolate, #entrepreneur, #christian romance, #belgium, #surfer, #candymaking

How Sweet It Is (4 page)

BOOK: How Sweet It Is
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She lowered her gaze when she remembered how
good it felt to awaken in his embrace. Infuriating man.

“I suppose I should ask if there’s a jealous
boyfriend I need to worry about avenging you with his fists. My
poor face can’t take any more abuse.”

Delphine blushed. She’d never slapped anyone
like that before and was still embarrassed about it—regardless of
whether he deserved it. Her blush deepened that he’d reminded her
of the fact there was no boyfriend, and hadn’t been in ages.

“No risk of my being avenged,” she said in a
chilly tone.

He rubbed his hands together, his eyes
alight. “Now that have the formalities are taken care of, tell me
more about you.”

“What if you’re a stalker?” she snapped. “I
shouldn’t be giving out personal information.”

Brad smiled lazily. “Stalkers are known to
bring along their parents, aren’t they?”

She shot him a dark frown.

“Listen, we’re stuck together on this flight
for a long time. I’d like to get to know you.” He reached down and
opened up his carry-on bag, pulling out a slender box of chocolates
obviously purchased from the same shop where she’d first seen him.
He lifted the familiar gold lid and held the box out to her.

She shook her head. Nonplussed, Brad plucked
one from the box and popped it into his mouth.

“Makes life worth living,” he mumbled around
the candy.

Delphine relaxed. While she still didn’t
entirely trust Brad Larsen, she realized she needed to be at least
civil. His family had paid for her passage, after all. “There isn’t
much to tell about my life.”

“Where do you live?”

“Glendale. And you?”

“Redondo Beach. We’re practically
neighbors!”

She wasn’t surprised to hear that he lived in
an affluent area of L.A. Based on what she’d seen, Brad and his
parents appeared to be financially well off.

“How long have you lived in the U.S.?”

Delphine gave him a quizzical look. “I assure
you I’m as American as you are, Mr. Larsen.”

“So you’re not French? You have a slight
accent.”

“My mother is French and came to the U.S.
from the Loire region in France. My Father is also French but was
born in the States.” She bit her lip, wondering if she should
confess the whole story. She’d always suspected that her mother had
every intention of marrying an American to gain citizenship.
Delphine glanced up at him, deciding the partial truth would
do.

“Maman entered a contest and won a trip to
Disneyland. While she was in Anaheim, she met my father and they
quickly married, which of course made it possible for her to stay
here. I was born a year later.”

Brad waggled his eyebrows. “How romantic.” He
ate another chocolate. “So she’s never been back to France?”

“My parents were never able to afford it,”
she said with a tight smile, embarrassed by the way money ran
through their hands like water. She changed the subject. “You
mentioned you went to Cal State. What did you major in?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a
conspiratorial whisper. “I really don’t want to tell you. It’ll
blow your image of me.”

Delphine raised a brow. “Let me guess. You’re
a lawyer?”

Brad put up his hands in mock horror. “As if!
Try business management.”

“Seems a little dry for you, but I bet
you’ll find a way to make it interesting.”

“See, you’re catching on,” he said, his gaze
caressing.

She shook her head at his automatic
flirtatious manner, but began to relax. They spent the next several
hours chatting. After a while, she found herself warming to Brad’s
charm. She had to admit he had a sweetness about him, a kindness
that softened his roguish personality. Perhaps the amazing amount
of chocolates he consumed while they talked made him seem more
amicable.

And he was apparently an
answer to her prayer, although she questioned God’s choice of
benefactors.
Those eyes are definitely too
sparkly
.

Much later, when she noticed the pearling of
the sky outside her window, she realized she’d almost miss him when
they went their separate ways.

Almost
.

 

Three

 

 

As the plane taxied on the runway and came to
a stop at the gate, Brad sensed Delphine emotionally distancing
herself from him. He regretted it after the hours they’d spent
talking.

He felt it was way too premature to end such
a blooming friendship. Yet he knew if he pressed to see her again,
she’d demur and slip away—this time maybe forever. Brad tried to
think of a way to detain her. Once the seatbelt light went off, she
rose to her feet, scooting past him to retrieve her carry-on.

When he saw her stretching up to the overhead
compartment, it took a fair amount of self-control on his part not
to put his arms around her and pull her down onto his lap. He
chewed on a knuckle and wrestled with his conscience.

From the seats in front of them, his parents
turned and gave him a speculative look. Brad started guiltily and
cleared his throat. “Delphine. Where can we drop you off?”

She looked over at them all with wide eyes,
then lowered her gaze. “Thank you so much for your generosity, but
I had planned to take a shuttle home and—”

“Nonsense,” breathed Elaine Larsen.

Brad groaned inwardly, recognizing the avid
look on his mother’s face. She was ever on the lookout for
matrimonial prospects for the last of her unmarried offspring.

His dad joined in. “Just tell us where you
live, Miss D’Arleux and we’ll be happy to take you there.”

Delphine seemed to consider the notion, then
gave the slightest nod of her head. “Thank you.”

Brad felt a moment of triumph. Now he’d have
her address. “Well,” he said brightly, “shall we?”

After disembarking from the plane and
retrieving their luggage, they took a shuttle to the long-term
parking area and climbed into the leather seats of his parents’
Ford Excursion. His dad again asked for Delphine’s address. After
she gave it, she seemed to retreat back into her shell.

Brad frowned at her behavior. Why had she
become so withdrawn all of a sudden? Couldn’t she tell they were a
nice family? Certainly not people to be afraid of. Frustration
gnawed at him when he saw the strained smile on Delphine’s pinched
face as his mother plied her with questions. He wanted to reach out
to her some way, but didn’t know how.

God, for some reason, you brought her back
into my orbit. Please keep her here, okay?

Nearly an hour later, his dad turned down her
street. The neighborhood appeared rundown, with groups of young men
hanging about, staring boldly as they drove by. Litter lined the
street and paint seemed to peel from every house.

At last, they stopped in front of an old
stuccoed apartment building, obviously built sometime in the
twenties. The quaint lines and stained glass windows failed to hide
the overall air of neglect.

Brad scrambled out of the SUV and helped
Delphine out on the other side. His mom followed, giving her a
hug.

“I will have the money for the ticket as
soon as possible, Mrs. Larsen.”

His mom wouldn’t hear of it and tried to
reassure her not to worry. Brad almost had to drag her away from
the vehicle.

“Relax about the fare, all right?” he said
when his parents were out of earshot. “My dad gets good deals on
tickets and it’s all probably tax deductible anyway.”

Delphine looked up at him, then shook her
head. “You don’t understand.”

“These bags are getting heavy,” he said,
hoping to distract her.

They went in the main entrance and Brad
followed her up a flight of stairs. In front of her door, she let
out a sigh.

“Thank you, for…everything.”

He gave her a wicked grin.

Everything?

“You know what I mean,” she said, reaching
for the door handle.

“Wait,” Brad said, setting down the bags.
“I’d like to see you again.”

Delphine’s lips lifted a little. It struck
him as a sad sort of expression.

“I’m sorry. That’s not possible.”

She twisted the handle of her door, lugged
her bags inside, and shut the door with a decisive click. Brad
stared at the wooden panels for several moments, his hands shoved
in his pockets. He heard Delphine’s voice inside.


Maman, Papa
, I’m home!”

 

****

 

Delphine’s shoulders slumped once the door
latched behind her. She called to her parents and collapsed onto a
fraying, overstuffed rocking chair. The living room was dimly lit
by a couple of old Victorian lamps, which helped mask the
shabbiness of the furnishings. From the dining room, she heard the
television playing a commercial about cheap airline travel.

She closed her eyes,
wondering if she’d ever have the courage to travel again. This trip
had too many near misses—including her fib that she’d planned to
take the shuttle home.
Well, I had planned
to—but with a drained account, I was going nowhere fast!
She blew out a shaky sigh.
Thank you, Lord, for getting me home. And help me to repay the
Larsens!


Ma
chèrie! Tu à màison!
” Delphine’s mother,
Clarice, small, dark and wiry, emerged from the kitchen. She rushed
to her and embraced Delphine. After kissing both her cheeks,
Clarice stood back and smiled.

“Where is
Papa?
” Delphine asked in
French. Though her parents knew enough English to get by, they
insisted on speaking their native language at home.

“He is taking a nap.”

A noise from the direction of the bedroom
heralded his entrance. “No, I am up! Hello Delphine! Welcome
home.”

Leone D’Arleux walked into the living room
and gave her a hug. “I prayed for your safe return and here you
are,” he said in a low voice.

Delphine smiled at his rather portly figure
and felt relieved her parents were obviously doing so well.

“Has Mrs. Hanson been by today?” she asked,
hoping the neighbor had checked in on her parents regularly as
agreed.

Clarice waved the notion away. “Yes, yes. But
do tell us about your trip. How I long to see the Loire Valley
again.”

Delphine sank onto her chair while her
parents settled themselves on the gold brocade sofa. She looked at
them, noticing their affable, open countenances. Her father’s eyes
were blue and childlike, his features almost cherubic.

“As you know, Maman, I didn’t get to
sightsee, and I certainly didn’t make it to the country. But what I
saw of Paris was very grand.”

Her parents questioned her
with exacting detail about every aspect of her trip. Delphine grew
impatient with the long explanations. She had a pressing question
to ask
them
.

Finally, during a break in the conversation
she took a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.” Leone and
Clarice exchanged looks with each other—an action which gave
Delphine a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

“At the airport, when I tried to purchase my
ticket for the flight home, my card was denied for insufficient
funds. You didn’t happen to use it, did you?”

They remained silent for a moment. Her mother
traced a finger along a scratch in the scarred coffee table. “You
had purchased a round trip ticket, no? Why would you need to buy
another?”

“There was a computer problem.”

“Ah.”

She watched them with increasing anxiety as
they avoided her gaze.

Finally her mother spoke.

Hélas
, we did. We
had to make the rent payment. The landlord was most pressing. Most
pressing,
chèrie
.”


Maman
, I gave you money for the rent
before I left. What became of that?”

Clarice’s faded, pretty face
clouded for a moment, making Delphine feel she really didn’t want
to know what mischief they’d embroiled themselves in.
It would only demoralize me
further
.

“Well,” her mother said in a defensive tone,
“as you know, your father and I have not had much in the way of
entertainment as of late…” She looked away.

Delphine felt sweat dot her
brow. “
Maman
,
the
money!

“With you enjoying yourself in Paris, we
decided we needed to have a little fun, too.”

“Traveling to Paris and Belgium was a
business trip. A trip calculated to start a business to provide us
an income. Again, I ask you. The money?”

Her father leaned forward on the sofa
cushions. “My dear, we only went to Palisade Winds for a nice
dinner and some games with friends and—”

Delphine shot out of her
chair. “You went to a
casino?
And it cost you several hundred dollars?” Her
voice shook with anger, anger long repressed in hopes her parents
were innocent. “Do you know that I had no money for the fare home?
That I was stranded in another
country?

“But here you are!” Clarice said, her hands
fluttering in the air like restless birds.

Delphine gritted her teeth. “A businessman
and his family took pity on my plight and paid for my ticket. I now
must find an extra amount of money to pay them back! What were you
thinking? Or did you think of me at all?”

Clarice rose and put her arms out to her
daughter. “You are too young to fret so. Only see how it worked
out. What an adventure!”

“No,
Maman
. Not an adventure. A nightmare.”
Delphine bit her lip, knowing her words weren’t exactly true. She’d
enjoyed her time with Brad more than she wanted to
admit.

BOOK: How Sweet It Is
7.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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