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Just The Way You Are
This book is now available electronically in various formats. Print copies may still be available from Used Booksellers
Take a romantic journey with Barbara Freethy to Tucker's Landing, Oregon, where Sam and Alli Tucker have mad a life together ... a life about to be tested by the return of the only woman who can break them up ... Alli's sister, Tessa."
A baby brought them together -- and even though Alli has always loved her strong, sexy husband Sam and the life they've built together, she has decided to set him free to follow his youthful dreams. It is no longer enough for her to be wife and lover when she knows she holds so little of his heart.
Sam has always dreamed of a life away from the close-knit world of Tucker's Landing, but marriage and fatherhood ended all that. Now Sam is torn between what was and what was meant to be. He must decide if it's time to rekindle the dreams of the past ... or accept Alli, and her love, just the way she is.
Don't miss this heartwrenching tale of a man torn between two sisters , the one he loved, the one he married ...
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The Latest Reviews...
"If there is one author who knows how to deliver vivid stories that tug on your emotions, it’s Barbara Freethy. JUST THE WAY YOU ARE deftly explores the drama of first loves and second chances." Romantic Times Magazine
"Freethy is a strong storyteller with an unerring ear for dialogue." The Romance Reader
"JUST THE WAY YOU ARE is a romantic, emotional journey through dreams and choices to love. Contemporary romance readers will adore this poignant, heart-tugging tale!" AOL Fiction Forum
Prologue
"Are you ready to go for a sail?" John MacGuire asked. A young, handsome man, he stood on the edge of a wide sandy beach, wearing summer shorts and his favorite t-shirt. He pointed toward the water behind him, to the sailboat that bobbed gently in the quiet bay. "It's the perfect day."
"I can't sail. I'm sick. I don't know what happened, but I can't seem to open my eyes." Phoebe MacGuire took a quick breath as panic filled her soul. "I'm seventy-six years old now, John. How did I get to be so old? I'm scared."
"No need to be scared, my darling, not when I'm here."
"But you're not really here."
"I miss you, Phoebe," he said softly, his voice as gentle as the morning breeze.
"I miss you, too. Nothing has been the same since you died. You were the one who kept the family together. It was you, your strength, your vision. Without you, we fell apart. Alli and Tessa are strangers now, and I don't know how to bring them back together."
"Do you still have the pearls, Phoebe?"
"Of course, I do."
"Do you remember the one we found on our first anniversary? That's when we discovered you were pregnant. Then we had a son, and later granddaughters, and we taught them to love the sea, to cherish the family, and to treasure the pearls for the strength that they gave us each year to go on, to live life to its fullest, to complete the circle."
"But we didn't complete it," she said in despair. "Because you died. You left me."
"It was my time, Phoebe, but you must finish the necklace now. The pearls weren't meant to just be a symbol of our love, but of our family, our strength, our unity. The pearls are nothing on their own but together in a strand, they are everything. It is the lesson we must teach Alli and Tessa." He paused, his expression as tender as a sweet blooming rose. "I wish for our girls a love as deep and as satisfying as the one we share."
"I want the same thing." But as his image faded away, Phoebe wondered if even the perfect pearl could save Alli and Tessa from themselves.
Chapter One
"Daddy, did you ever love Mommy?"
Allison Tucker caught her breath at the simple, heartfelt question that had come from her eight-year-old daughter's lips. She took a step back from the doorway and leaned against the wall, her heart racing in anticipation of the answer. She'd thought she'd explained the separation to her daughter, but Megan still had questions, and this time it was up to Sam to answer.
Sam cleared his throat, obviously stalling for time, and for the life of her, Alli couldn't move away. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when she'd arrived to pick Megan up after her weekend with her father, she had been caught by the cozy scene in the family room.
Sam sat in the brown leather reclining chair looking endearingly handsome in his faded blue jeans and navy blue rugby shirt. Megan was on his lap, her blond hair a mess in mismatched braids, her clothes exactly the same as Sam's, faded blue jeans and a navy-blue t-shirt. Megan adored dressing like her father.
"Did I show you the picture of Mommy when she dressed up like a giant pumpkin for the Halloween dance?" Sam asked.
They were looking at a yearbook, Alli realized with dismay. There weren't just pictures of Sam and Alli in the yearbook, there were other people in there, too.
"Did you, Daddy? Did you ever love Mommy?" Megan persisted.
Answer the question, Sam. Tell her you never really loved me, that you only married me because I was pregnant, that your heart still belongs to -- my sister. Alli held her breath, waiting for Sam's answer, knowing the bitter truth, but wondering, hopelessly, impossibly wondering ...
"I love your mother very much -- for giving me you," Sam replied.
Alli closed her eyes against a rush of emotion. It wasn't an answer, but an evasion. She didn't know why she felt even the tiniest bit of surprise. Sam would never admit to loving her. She couldn't remember ever hearing those three simple words cross his lips, not even after Megan's birth. He hadn't said the words then. Or later in the days, and weeks and years that followed, not even when they made love, when they shared a passion that was perhaps the only honest part of their relationship. Sam always held a part of himself back, a portion of his heart and his soul that he would never give to her.
Alli clenched her fists, wanting to feel anger not pain. She'd spent more than half of her twenty-seven years of life in love with Sam Tucker, but he didn't love her, and he never would. She'd lived in a dream world for years, ignoring all the signs of disinterest, Sam's long hours running his family's charter boat business, and his desire to limit their family to the one child who bound them together. Alli had told herself lie after lie -- that Sam would change, that he would suddenly see her for who she was, that he would want another baby. Even now, a deep ache echoed through her soul at the thought of never having another child with the man she loved, but she could no longer live in a fantasy world.
Three months ago it had become startling clear that Sam still held hopes of being with her sister. The realization that despite years of trying to be the best wife, the best mother, the best woman she could be, Sam still loved Tessa, had driven Alli to do the unthinkable -- to ask for a separation. Sam had been shocked, and no wonder. She'd chased after him forever. But no more. She couldn't keep loving someone who didn't love her back. Could she?
The niggling doubt ran through Alli's mind, her heart still battling her brain. She'd always acted on her emotions, forget about logic. Even seducing Sam all those years ago hadn't come from a master plan but had been more like a crime of opportunity. And she'd paid for it a thousand times over. Alli let out a sigh. She'd done so many things wrong, taking forever to grow up as her grandmother was fond of telling her. Her biggest guilt came from putting Megan in the middle of her battle with Sam, but there was no way to avoid it. Megan had always been in the middle. And she always would be.
"Damn," Alli muttered as tears filled her eyes. She ruthlessly rubbed them away. She had to let go of the past and focus on the future. Making sure her daughter had a wonderful loving relationship with her father was her main concern. In the long run, Alli could only hope that it would be better for Megan to grow up in two peaceful homes than in one unhappy one.
Taking a deep breath, Alli smoothed down the sides of her short sleeve emerald green dress, the first new outfit she'd bought in years. It was tighter than she would have liked, but married life and childbirth had only encouraged her naturally curvy tendencies. She took solace in the fact that she still looked better than she had in ages, and there was a small part of her, make that a big part of her, that couldn't help hoping Sam would be floored by her new look.
Clearing her throat with purpose and determination, she entered the family room and said, "hello."
Sam looked at her, his light blue eyes filled with annoyance. "You're early," he snapped. "You said seven-thirty, and it's only six. Megan and I were planning to have a pizza."
"I'm sorry." She knew his anger covered pain. Sam might not miss her at all, but he did miss his daughter.
"This is our time together," Sam reminded her.
"I know." Alli tried not to feel anything for the man, but his physical presence had always overwhelmed her.
A rugged, outdoor man, Sam had sun-streaked brown hair, that was always windswept, never styled. His face was perpetually sunburned. His body was lean and fit, his fingers and palms callused from working his boats. She could still remember the way his fingers felt drifting down the side of her cheeks, her breasts ...
She drew in a quick breath and looked out the window at the storm clouds about to descend on Tucker's Landing, one of the small seaside towns along the Southern Oregon coast. Although it was late June, the weather was still unpredictable, and on days like today, summer seemed far away
"It's starting to rain," she said. "The forecast said maybe an inch or more. I didn't want to get caught in the storm. You know I hate to drive in the rain."
Sam tightened his hold on Megan, as if Alli were attempting to steal his dearest possession. But she wasn't a thief, she was Megan's mother. Turning her attention to Megan, Alli could see that her daughter felt torn between them. Megan's blue eyes were worried, her mouth slightly pouty as she chewed nervously on the end of her braid. The last thing Alli wanted to do was make Megan feel like a wishbone, but sometimes it seemed impossible to avoid. They both loved Megan so very much.
"I'll bring her home at seven-thirty," Sam said.
"That's in an hour and a half."
"Exactly. And it's my hour and a half."
She sighed. "Come on, Sam. It's been a long day."
"Maybe Mommy could have pizza with us," Megan suggested. She put her small hands on Sam's face so he couldn't look away from her and gazed at him with bright, eager blue eyes. "Please."
Sam's mouth set into a hard line. "I suppose. If she wants to."
Megan looked at Alli, drilling her with the same relentless gaze.
Alli hesitated, knowing the last thing Sam wanted her to do was stick around. But she hated to disappoint Megan over something so small. "I could stay, I guess." She glanced at Sam. "Are you sure it's all right with you?"
"Does it matter?"
He didn't look her in the eye. Sometimes, she thought he went out of his way to avoid looking at her. Maybe she did the same thing. It was easier to keep the distance between them.
Sam gently pushed Megan out of his lap and rose to his feet. "I'll call Nina's. The usual?"
Why was it always the simple words, the familiar memories that hurt the most? "The usual," she agreed.
Sam walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. While he dialed the number for the pizza parlor, Megan handed Alli the high school yearbook. "Daddy showed me your picture," Megan said. "You were really pretty, Mommy."
Alli stared down at her sophomore photograph. She'd been trying to grow her hair out, to be more like Tessa. But where her sister's thick wavy, blond hair grew like a weed, Alli's own copper-colored cap never quite made it past her shoulders, and was so thin and fine, it almost seemed to disappear. Once, a very long time ago, Sam had told her that her hair was like silk, and she'd thought, foolishly of course, that he'd found something about her that he liked better than Tessa.
Alli slammed the book shut. Megan looked at her in surprise.
"What's wrong, Mommy?"
"Nothing." She forced a smile on her face. "What did you do today?"
"We waxed the hot rod."
"Of course," Alli said. Because next to his business, waxing his 1955 red Thunderbird was Sam's favorite pasttime. She wouldn't have minded so much if the damn car hadn't been just another reminder of Sam and Tessa. In her mind's eye she could still see the two of them tooling around town. And they'd never wanted to give her a ride, never!
"Do you want to see it?" Megan asked.
"The car?" Alli asked in confusion. "No, the thing I made you. Weren't you listening, Mommy?"
"I'd love to see whatever you made me, honey."
"I'll get it." Megan ran out of the room, and Alli walked over to the bookcase and stuck the yearbook in a dark corner where she hoped it wouldn't be discovered for another decade. Although, as her gaze traveled around the familiar room, she realized that Sam had done some cleaning, made some changes since he'd moved back into his family home and his parents had retired to Arizona. His father's pipe no longer sat in the ash tray on the desk and the three foot high pile of fishing magazines had been tossed in a large open box along with some other knick-knacks.
The changes made her feel uncomfortable. The thought that Sam was finally accepting the fact that this was his home now bothered her more than she cared to admit. And the fact that he was changing the house to fit him as a man instead of a child was odd, too. This house had been a part of her own childhood, because she'd grown up next door. When she was nine, and Tessa eleven, they'd lost their parents in a car crash and come to live with their grandmother, Phoebe MacGuire. They'd traveled between houses as kids do, and she'd come to know this one almost as well as her own. Although, come to think of it, she had usually been the one tagging behind, trying to catch up to Sam and Tessa, and somehow the door always seemed to slam in her face.
Sam hung up the phone. "The pizza will be here in fifteen minutes."
She nodded. "Great. So, how did the weekend go?"
"Fine."
"Megan starts summer school tomorrow. We'll have to re-do our visitation schedule."
"I hate that word," he said with a fierceness that startled her. "Megan is my daughter. We should be living together, not visiting each other."
Alli didn't know what to say. So much for thinking that Sam had accepted things. "I'm sorry that was the wrong word to use. You know you can see Megan as often as you want, Sam. I would never keep you apart."
"Then why ask for a divorce? Why break up our family? Why the hell do you have to be so selfish, Alli?"
His words hit her like bullets from a gun, each one hurting more than the last, and her only defense was to hit back. "Don't blame it all on me, Sam. I wasn't the only one who wanted out, just the one who had the guts to ask."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"The hell I don't," she said sharply. "When I found that box of clippings and photographs of Tessa, I felt like I'd just stumbled upon you in bed with another woman."
"I was never unfaithful to you." "Maybe not in body, but in mind you certainly were. How do you think it feels to know the man who is touching you is thinking about someone else?" Her voice shook with the depth of her pain. She could still see herself sneaking into Sam's office to surprise him with an intimate anniversary dinner only to find a box of Tessa's photos hidden away in the bottom drawer of his desk. She'd been looking for a bottle opener so she could open the champagne she'd brought to celebrate nine years together. What a fool she'd been."
"It was never like that," Sam said.
"It was always like that."
"Alli –"
"And it wasn't just the box. I wanted more children, Sam. You knew that, and you refused over and over again. Because having another child with me, making a deliberate choice to add to the family, would mean you were planning to stay with me. But you couldn't make that commitment, could you? You couldn't cross that line, because you weren't planning to stay forever. Well, I just cut forever short."
Before Sam could reply, Megan returned to the room. "Look, Mommy, I made you a candle holder out of a wine bottle, see?" Megan held up the paper mache covered bottle with a proud smile. "Daddy helped me. Can we light a candle for dinner?"
"I guess."
"No," Sam said abruptly. "We don't need a candle."
Megan's smile vanished. "Why not, Daddy?"
"Candles are for special occasions." He headed for the door. "I'll get some drinks."
Sam walked into the hallway and leaned against the wall, stopping to catch his breath, to steady his pulse. Candles are for special occasions. What a stupid thing to say. But the thought of a candlelight dinner with Alli ...
No, he couldn't do it. Alli put his stomach in a knot every time she walked through the door, every time she opened her mouth. She'd destroyed his life not once, but twice, for when he'd finally come to terms with being a father and a husband -- after he'd struggled so hard to make it all work, she'd bailed out on him. A twinge of guilt poked at his conscience.
Okay, so maybe he'd kept up with Tessa's life, stored a few photographs. They were harmless pictures. Half the world owned magazines with Tessa's face on the cover. And how could he tell Alli that her grandmother had given him most of the clippings? It would only destroy their relationship, because she'd think her grandmother was favoring her sister. And what did it all matter anyway? He'd married Alli as soon as he'd found out she was pregnant. He'd been twenty years old, Alli only eighteen. But they'd had to grow up overnight. He'd thrown all of his plans of traveling and seeing the world aside and gone to work for his father, eventually taking over the business and working his ass off to provide for his family. But was it enough for Alli? No. She wanted more children. She wanted words of undying devotion. She wanted every last piece of him.
Damn it all. He felt as unsettled as the weather outside. He didn't know whether to be furious or relieved it was all over. He didn't know why he couldn't look at her anymore, why her voice set his nerves on edge, why he was so afraid that the merest touch of her hands would be the death of him. They'd lived together for a long time, but he'd never been as aware of her as he was right now.
Alli walked out of the family room and bumped into him, not expecting to find him still standing there. He automatically reached out to steady her, his hands coming to rest on her waist, his fingers burning as the warmth of her body seeped through the thin material of her dress.
She sucked in a short breath, and his pulse quickened. He didn't want to look into her eyes. It was bad enough that he could smell her favorite perfume -- Passion -- that he could feel her body under his hands, that he could hear her breathing. He couldn't look into her eyes. He couldn't take that risk. He didn't know what he would see there. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. She'd confused him since the day she'd moved in next door as a bossy little girl, changing personalities as often as a chameleon changed color. Just when he thought he knew who she was, she turned into someone else.
"Sam?" she questioned, her voice turning husky.
It almost undid him. He'd loved her voice in the dark of the night, whispering, promising ...
He drew in a breath and dropped his hands from her waist. "I'll get those drinks."
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Look at me."
He sent her a brief glance that barely grazed her face, then turned away. "I'm thirsty."
"Sam –"
The ringing phone cut off her words, and Sam felt a great relief. He brushed past her, returning to the family room to find Megan on the phone.
"Oh, hi, Mr. Beckett," Megan said. "Yes, he's here."
Sam took the phone from her hand. "William? How are you?"
"Not too good, Sam." William's usually brisk seventy-six-year-old voice trembled. "It's Phoebe. I don't know how to tell you this, but she's -- she's had a stroke."
"No!" Sam couldn't stop the word from bursting out of his mouth. He sat down on the edge of the desk, grateful for the support. Not Phoebe. Alli's grandmother was strong and vital and energetic, and he couldn't imagine the world without her. "How bad is she?"
"I don't know yet. We were walking along the pier and all of a sudden she stopped making sense and she couldn't walk. I got help as soon as I could," he said helplessly. "We're at the hospital now. They said to call the family. I couldn't find Allison. She's not home."
"She's here."
"Then you'll tell her?"
"Yes. I'll tell her." Sam looked at Alli standing in the doorway and saw the fear draw sharp lines in her face.
"And Sam ..." William hesitated. "I know there's bad blood and all, but I've called Tessa and asked her to come home. She agreed. She'll be here tomorrow night."
Sam's entire body tightened, a knee jerk reaction impossible to stop. He hadn't seen Tessa since the night he'd told her he was marrying her sister. And now she was coming home. Because Phoebe was sick, he told himself. It had nothing to do with him.
"Sam?" Alli asked, wrapping her arms around her waist, as if she could protect herself from whatever was coming.
"Your grandmother has had a stroke. She's in the hospital." He set the phone on the desk.
"Not Grams." Alli's eyes searched his. "Is she --"
"No one knows anything yet."
"I don't understand. Grams never gets sick. She's strong. I just spoke to her a few hours ago. I have to go. I have to see her." Alli looked wildly around the room, searching for something.
Sam reached out and closed her fingers over the keys she still held in her hand. "Easy," he said. "I'll take you."
She looked into his eyes with desperation. "She has to be all right. She has to be."
"She's a fighter, Alli."
"But she's seventy-six years old."
"Mommy. Is Grams going to die?" Megan asked.
Alli opened her arms as Megan ran into a tight hug. "I hope not, honey. I really hope not."
They clung together for a long minute, and Sam itched to join them, but he couldn't. Alli had made it clear that she didn't want him in her life.
Finally, Alli set Megan aside. "Go get your things, honey. We need to leave."
Megan ran out of the room, and Alli slowly straightened. Sam dug his hands into his pockets to stop himself from doing anything foolish, like hugging her.
"I can't lose Grams," Alli whispered, her eyes filled with fear. "She's all I have left of my family."
Sam didn't say a word. Alli wasn't alone. She had a sister -- a sister who was coming home. He couldn't stop the sudden quickening of his pulse. Alli's eyes suddenly changed, and he wondered if she could read his mind.
"Oh my God! William called Tessa, didn't he?" Apparently she could read his mind, or she'd simply added up the equation. Despite the animosity between the two sisters, Phoebe MacGuire adored both of her granddaughters.
"Yes, he called Tessa." It felt strange to say her name out loud. And stranger still to think of seeing Tessa again, her blonde hair, her blue eyes, her generous smile. Not that she'd be smiling at him.
"Is she coming back?" Alli asked, her face so tense she could barely get the words out.
"Yes." | 
