The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(71)

“Hi, poochie!” Sarah said, bending to pet him. The dog licked her chin and whined. “Aw, what a sweetie you are!” She scratched his ears, then straightened. “Good night!” With that she went inside.

Levi didn’t follow. He waited till the door closed instead, just looked at Faith, who’d reached inside her door and gotten Blue’s leash. She bent over and clipped it on, giving him a glimpse of the mighty rack, then straightened up.

“Yes, Levi?” she said, sighing.

Then damn if he wasn’t kissing her again, but there he was, his mouth on hers, a surprised little squeak coming from her throat. His hands cupped her face, and part of his brain barked out something about how stupid he was. The rest of him, however, was all for it. Her lips were soft and pliant, and, yeah, she was kissing him back.

Then she gave him a hard shove, and he stepped back, feeling blurry and slow.

“So what is this, Levi? You’re just going to blindside me with a kiss every once in a while?” she whispered.

Blue jumped against her like this was the best idea he’d ever heard, his tail whacking against the wall. She gave the dog an idle pat, but she looked mad. He couldn’t blame her.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You’re so damn confusing,” she hissed. “Really. I mean, I get the impression that you can’t stand me, then after my seizure, you were incredibly nice and helpful, then you kiss me, then you ignore m—”

Ah, hell, he was kissing her again. If nothing else, it did shut her up. And he liked her mouth doing something other than yapping at him. Soft and sweet and hot. He drew her against him, and she didn’t resist. Instead, her hands slid into his hair, and she kissed him back, that sweet little noise coming from her once more. Then she let go.

“Stop it,” she whispered against his mouth. He obeyed. Her eyes were wide and blue, and she looked a little dazed.

“Thanks for talking to my sister,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back.

“You’re welcome,” she said after a beat, licking her lips. God, he wished she wouldn’t do that. Just made him want to instead. She swallowed. “I, um...I have to walk my dog.”

“Okay.”

She walked down the hall, stopping to glance back at him. And because he didn’t know what to say, he just looked at her, that soft, pretty package, her silly strappy shoes and now-messed-up hair and happy dog.

Then she went down the stairs, and he leaned against the wall, wondering exactly what the hell he was doing.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“ARE YOU SURE YOU don’t want an entire case?” Faith asked. “Wine makes such a great present, the holidays are coming up, and your friends will know you were thinking of them while you were on your trip.” She smiled and leaned on the counter of Blue Heron’s beautiful tasting bar.

“I can’t resist a pretty girl,” said the man. “Sure. Why not? Make it three cases. Best Riesling I’ve tasted.”

“I’m gonna tell my dad you said that,” Faith said. “You’ll make his entire week. And how about the cab you liked? The one you said had blackberry undertones and a hint of tobacco? You have a great palate, by the way.”

“All right. Great idea. I’ll save that just for me, though.”

“I like a man who treats himself right,” Faith said with a wink, handing the order to Mario, who’d run the cases out to the guy’s car.

Years of practice had shown Faith that flirting worked wonders when at the tasting bar. Honor used to lecture her about it, but no one had had a better record than Faith until Ned had come of age. At the moment, he was with a gaggle of fiftysomething women, clad in sturdy sneakers and matching, eye-bleeding pink sweatshirts that proclaimed them as “Phi Beta Bitches.”

She took the guy’s tasting glass to the sink. “I just sold four cases to one man,” she murmured as she passed her nephew. “Suck it up, sonny.”

“Ladies,” Ned said, “my aunt here doesn’t think I can sell as much wine as she can. Help me prove her wrong. I’m throwing myself on your mercy.”

“Whore,” she whispered, patting his shoulder.

“I learned from the best,” he returned.

It was fun to be back in the tasting room, especially with Ned. This was Honor’s domain—she worked out of a big office in the back, running the sales, media and distribution, and running them well. But whenever Honor was around, Faith felt slightly out of place. This morning, though, Honor had called, saying that Chipper Reeves had sprained his ankle, and could Faith please pour for the afternoon. And even though it meant pausing in her work on the barn, she didn’t want to say no. Honor so rarely asked her for help.

“Thank you, beautiful ladies!” Ned called as the Bitches left. “Eight cases, by the way,” he added to Faith. He took a cloth and started wiping down the counters, taking advantage of the break in traffic.

“Yeah, but my per capita ratio is still much higher. Guess you’re not quite as cute as you think, Neddie dear.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said. “I have a mirror, after all.”

“And speaking of cute,” she began.

“Nice transition, Auntie.”

“Thanks. Speaking of cute, you and Sarah Cooper? Is there cause for concern? Do I need to lecture you on safe sex, or just point out that her big brother is a decorated war veteran who can hit a moving target from five thousand yards?”