The Family You Make (Sunrise Cove #1)(45)

She was still smiling, and damn if it didn’t bring out one of his own. “I have faults,” he said. “Lots of them.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears.”

“Okay . . .” He thought about it, not wanting to give away the farm, but wanting to be honest. “I hyperfocus on work and lose track of everything else. And when I’m in that headspace, I can apparently be . . .” He thought about the biggest complaint Amy and his few other shorter relationships had always had. “Distant.”

“Me too,” she said and bit into her s’more. Her moan cut through him. As did her next question. “So. Amy. What happened? You’ve known her since you were a kid, she told you that you were in a relationship, you went to college together, and then . . . ?”

“We got engaged.” The year after college, they’d played house and they’d been happy. Or so he thought. But then she started pressing for that wedding she’d been dreaming of since seventh grade. He made some agreeable noises and she’d been so happy, but he’d stalled on setting a date.

And then she’d died—without the wedding, which had been all she’d ever wanted.

These days he never made promises. Ever. He looked at Jane and felt a pang, because if he was the promising type, she’d be the woman he’d want to make promises to.

“Levi?”

Shit. Why had he pushed for deep tonight? He was allergic to deep. Maybe when he’d hit his head, he’d been more injured than he’d originally thought. Although it wasn’t his head aching now, it was his chest.

Something to think about.

But for now, there was no getting around this. “She passed away unexpectedly a year after we were engaged,” he said. “An aneurysm.”

“Oh my God.” She set down her s’more. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed—”

“No, it’s okay. And what was it you said? It sucks. Life sucks. But then you learn to live with it. You don’t necessarily forget, but you move on.”

Her eyes were warm. Regretful, but also understanding. She didn’t offer empty platitudes, for which he was grateful. She simply nodded and then went about toasting another perfect marshmallow. Then she created a s’more with it and handed it to him.

That was when he realized that the more he got to know her, the more real he wanted this to be.

“This was a very unusual date,” she said, eyes dark by the fire’s glow, mouth utterly kissable.

He smiled. “You said date.”

“Pretend date,” she corrected. “You promised me, remember?”

Right. He’d also promised not to fall for her. Guess he did make promises after all. Really bad ones. “I remember.”

She nodded. Stared at his mouth. “A very unusual pretend date.”

“Do you go on a lot of pretend dates, then?”

She shook her head. Nibbled on her lip, which was what he wanted to do too. He should be pulling away rather than wanting to extend the evening for as long as possible, but he didn’t want to go anywhere. What he wanted was to see her again. And again.

“I’m going to be gone soon,” she reminded him as if she could read his mind. “So are you too, right?”

“I thought so.” He nodded at her surprise. Then he voiced the thought that had been in his head for days now. “Yeah, it caught me off guard too, but I’m actually thinking of moving back. I’ve missed connections, and I have a lot of them here. More than I wanted to remember.”

She looked across the outdoor patio to the lake just beyond, dark and beautiful. “I can see why you’d want to stay here.”

“And you?” he asked.

She slowly shook her head. “I’m not really a one place sort of girl.”

Then right now would have to do. Assuming, of course, she was feeling the same. And though he could tell by her body language that at least a part of her was, he knew she hadn’t even come close to deciding on him as something she couldn’t be without.

Real or otherwise.

It began to snow, lightly at first, but by the time they laughingly gobbled up the last of their s’mores and walked out front, it was coming down pretty good.

Jane stepped out from the protective cover of the awning and tipped her face up to the falling flakes. “I never get tired of snow. It’s got such potential to do serious damage, and yet it’s so beautiful.”

He thought maybe that could describe Jane too. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh, I walked.”

“Let me drive you home,” he said, reaching for her hand.

“I’m okay. I like to walk.”

But she held on to his hand and he smiled. “Then let me walk you home.”

She met his gaze, her head dusted with powdery snowflakes, a few more on her lashes and her cheeks, making them rosy. “Then you’d just have to walk back here to get your car.”

“I don’t mind.”

“There you go hiding your faults again, seeming too good to be true.”

“Jane,” he said on a rough laugh, “I can promise you I’m not too good to be true.”

She studied him for a long beat, while he did his damnedest to look like something she couldn’t live without. “A ride home would be nice, thank you,” she finally said softly.