Levi glanced up at the clear ceiling. “No, it’s really pouring. I’ll just tramp around in the woods and reassure her.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at home.” The word home had never sounded nicer.

Tiling her chin up, he looked at her steadily. “I had a really nice time with you today.”

“Thanks. Me, too.”

“Walk you back to your dad’s?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get this all cleaned up. Put out the fire and all that.”

He kissed her quickly, and again more slowly, then left her alone with the sound of the rain and the smell of wet leaves and wood smoke.

* * *

WHEN LEVI LEFT THE STATION after filling out a report or six, it was dark. The rain had blown off across the lake, leaving behind a clear, moonless sky. Lights were on in Faith’s apartment, he noted as he crossed the green. He stopped, looking up. It was a skill he was getting pretty good at, this spying—first his father’s house, now her funky little apartment. From where he was, he could see part of the red wall, a bit of the bookcase where she displayed all those family photos.

And the rose quartz heart he’d given her.

He should probably cop to that.

There she was, the phone tucked under her ear as she walked, a carton of Ben & Jerry’s in one hand—she had six of them in her freezer last time he checked, and not one green vegetable—a spoon in the other. She was laughing, and Levi felt a blade of lust knife through him. He loved when Faith laughed. She had such a girl-next-door face, but when she laughed, she looked—and sounded—like a sex kitten, and the husky sound of her voice seemed to have an electric effect on his groin.

His phone rang, and he jumped, then answered it. “Chief Cooper.”

“Little Cooper here.”

“Hey, hon, how you doing?”

“I’m good. Got an A minus on my chemistry test.”

“Told you so. Good job.”

“Thanks for the cookies. I’m getting fat. Fatter, I should say.”

“You’re not fat.”

“So what are you doing?” There was that lonely note in her voice again. “You at the station?”

“Nope. I’m staring up at Faith’s windows, watching her.”

“Stalker-ish of you.”

“Well, I’m a police officer,” he said. “We’re good at that.”

“At being pathetic, you mean? Because that sounds totally pathetic. You about to burst into verse? ‘What light through yonder window breaks’ and all that crap?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Sad. You’re still coming up for dinner this week, right?”

“No. When did I say I’d do that?”

“Levi!” his sister barked. “You said you’d come for dinner! Since you banned me from coming home before Thanksgiving, which is still weeks away!”

“Well, I can’t come this week. I have a budget meeting tomorrow—”

“What about Tuesday?”

“Tuesday I’m on call.”

“Wednesday?”

“Dinner with Faith’s family.” Shit. He shouldn’t have admitted that.

“How cozy,” Sarah said, her voice thick with tears. “Thursday?”

“On call again, honey. Come on. I didn’t say this week. I said sometime before Thanksgiving, and—”

“You know what? Don’t come up. That’s fine. I’ll make new friends and be happy and you don’t have to worry about me at all. Okay? Bye.”

“Sarah, don’t be so—” Great. She’d hung up. He called her back, but it went right to voice mail. Texted her. Please stop being an ass. He waited. She didn’t write back. He waited another minute or two.

With a sigh, he texted again. How about friday?

Seconds later, his phone chimed. fridays great. xoxox

Tucking his phone into his pocket, he crossed the rest of the green. Into the Opera House, up the stairs and straight to Faith’s apartment. Knocked, causing Blue to bark wildly.

A second later, Faith answered the door, still on the phone. Her hair was in a ponytail, and the Dalmatian pj’s were topped with a skimpy little tank top that barely contained the mighty rack. She looked, in other words, like the start of a particularly good  p**n o.

“Why, it’s Manningsport’s hottest cop,” she said into the phone, stepping aside so he could come in. “No, not in uniform, alas. Flannel. Has a sort of lumberjack appeal, though. No, I totally agree. Dresses like a straight guy. Well, then again, so did you.” She laughed merrily. “Hi,” she whispered to him. “It’s Jeremy.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s doing the one-word answer thing,” she said into the phone. “No, he’s scowling. It works.” She held the phone out to him. “Jeremy wants to talk to you.”

Levi didn’t want to talk, not to Jeremy, not to her. He took the phone, clicked it off and tossed it onto the chair, then wrapped his arms around Faith, slid his hands down her generous ass, pushed her against the wall and kissed her smooth, beautiful neck, then licked the same spot.

Blue began trying to get in on the action, so, without releasing her, Levi turned, grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it on the floor. Blue took the hint. Then Levi slid his hands up her front, feeling her ni**les harden under his palms. “You like this shirt?” he muttered, his lips just below her ear.

“Not really,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Good.” He grabbed the neckline with two hands and ripped it open, and without further ado, she wrapped herself around him and gave as good as she got.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LEVI HADN’T EXPECTED to see Jeremy when he and Faith went for dinner at her father’s house.

He was already a little itchy with the whole family thing. He’d had dinner with the Hollands a time or two over the years, but he never could shake that feeling he’d had as a kid—the big house on the Hill, off-limits except when the doors were opened to the great unwashed. The sight of Jeremy there, acting like a son-in-law, made it worse.

“Hey,” he said tightly as Jeremy greeted him with a clap on the shoulder.

“Good to see you, buddy,” Jeremy said. “Glass of wine?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just sauntered away.

“Oops. Mrs. Johnson is flagging me down,” Faith said, slipping off herself. The housekeeper gave him a death stare, then melted back into the kitchen.

Under normal circumstances, Levi liked the Holland family quite a lot. But now that he was Faith’s...whatever...it was a lot more awkward. Jack gave him a pained glance, then returned his gaze to his beer; Ned and Abby were bickering over by a window seat.

Jeremy returned and handed Levi a glass of wine, seeming as comfortable here as he was at his own place down the road. The fact that he’d left Faith at the altar seemed to have been forgiven. Levi mentally chastised himself; the elder Lyons lived in California, and the Hollands were as close to family as Jeremy had around here.

“Hi, Levi,” Honor said, emerging from the kitchen. Her voice was neither more nor less friendly than always.

“Hi,” he said. “How are you?”

“Heard you’re banging my sister,” she said.

“Uh...I’ll let her respond to that.”

“My father’s ready to kill you. Beware.” Honor went over to her dad and handed him a glass of wine. John glanced at Levi and gave him a steely nod.

Right. Well, to the kitchen it was, then.

“I fail to see how this is sexy,” Prudence was saying. “I look like a plucked chicken.”

“Why you would do such a thing, I don’t want to know,” Mrs. Johnson said, opening the freezer and handing Pru a bag of peas. “You girls today are a terrible mystery.”

Pru put the bag on her crotch. For the love of... “Hey, Levi!” she said amiably. “Got a bikini wax today. I do not recommend it. The pain was unbelievable! I swear the woman was enjoying it, all that ripping and tearing. Shoot, these are cold! I might be getting frostbite.”

You’d think that four tours would’ve steeled him for such a mental image. They didn’t. “Hi,” he murmured.

“Mrs. Johnson, say hello to Levi,” Faith said, coming over to his side.

“Good evening, Chief Cooper,” Mrs. Johnson said. “What are you doing in my kitchen?”

“He’s here for dinner.” Faith slid her arm around his waist, her warm, sweet smell coming to him. “He’s my honey.”

Her honey, was it? Sounded kind of...nice.

“Which does not answer the question of why he’s standing right in front of the salt potatoes when they’re nearly ready. Shoo, Chief! Get out!”

“Thanks for the peas, Mrs. J.,” Pru said. “Want them back in the freezer or what?”

“Throw them away, child!”

“Fine, fine,” Pru said, walking like a cowboy after a hard day in the saddle. “Waste not, want not, I always thought.”

“Oh, Goggy and Pops are here!” Faith said, abandoning Levi yet again.

The housekeeper gave him another glare. “Well? Go. What are you waiting for?”

An eternity later, the Holland family, Jeremy and Levi were jammed around the dining room table. Old Mr. and Mrs. Holland, John, Pru, Ned and Abby, Honor and Jack. And Faith, flanked by Jeremy and himself.

“Faith, we never see you anymore,” Mrs. Holland said.

“I was over yesterday,” she said.

“You young people. Always so busy.”

“So what? She should be busy. Before she knows it, she’ll end up trapped for sixty-five years,” Mr. Holland said.

“Dad, knock it off,” John said patiently. “Jack, pass the bread, will you?”

“Jeez, Ned, stop it!” Abby barked. “Mom! He’s kicking me under the table!”

“Ned, for crying out loud, you’re a legal adult,” Pru snapped. “Don’t make me get up to hit you. I’m totally chafed.”

“College, college, college,” Abby chanted, putting her fingers in her ears. He smiled at her, only to have her glare back at him. He’d just given her the sentence for her foray into underage drinking: twelve hours of community service.

His head was starting to ache from the din of approximately six separate conversations in which everyone spoke at once and no one listened. He glanced at his watch, wondering how long they’d have to stay.

“Levi, just what are your intentions toward my daughter?” John asked abruptly.

“Daddy,” Faith sighed. “Come on. We talked about this.”

“So?” John stared expectantly. “I think I have the right to know what your plans are. Faith is my daughter. My princess.”

“Yeah, Faith, where is that crown, by the way?” Jack asked, taking more potatoes.

Pru snorted. “Honor, did Dad ever call you his princess? I’m pretty sure I was never called princess by anyone.”

“I believe only Faith holds that title,” Honor said.

“Girls, don’t be ridiculous. You’re all three my princesses. Levi? Answer the question.”

“I intend to date her, sir,” Levi said.

“Whatever that means these days,” John grumbled.

“It means sex,” Abby added, getting an elbow from her mother. “What?” she asked. “How can I not be aware of it when you and Daddy are doing it all the time?”

“Well, Faith,” said Mrs. Holland, “I think you should date a long, long time. Your grandfather took me for two walks before we were married. I wish I’d gotten to know him first, rather than count on my parents’ judgment.”