The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(94)

He looked at her with some difficulty, it seemed. “I don’t know. Are you staying in town?”

“I...I have to take care of some things first. I want to stay, though.” More than ever now.

He hesitated, then nodded.

“So we’re...friends?”

“Is that what you want us to be? Friends?” He wadded up the paper bag and tossed it into the fire.

“I’ve wanted to be your friend my whole life,” she said, her throat abruptly tight.

He looked at her sharply. “Why?” he asked. His face was in its familiar solemn lines, forehead slightly crinkled with a question.

“I don’t know. You were... I don’t know.” And she didn’t. He’d been one of the cool kids, of course, but there was something more to him. Something different. “There was one time, when I had a seizure. Maybe third grade? Yeah, because Mrs. G. was our teacher.” Levi nodded. “And what I remember when I came out of it was you, telling people to back off and stop staring.” She looked at him, and his face was gentle now. “Do you remember that?”

“No.”

“Well. I do, obviously. But other than that, and especially when I was with Jeremy, you never seemed to like me.”

She looked down at the string edges of the blanket. Quite fascinating. Faith braided three of them together, then found her hand covered by Levi’s.

“I like you now, Faith.”

She looked up to see him smiling, just a little. “That’s good.”

“Feels like we’re more than friends, though.”

There was the rush of golden heat, fast and heavy. She nodded.

He pulled her against him, and the nice clean smell of him, soap and smoke, made her chest ache. There was a little bit of dried leaf on his flannel shirt, and she brushed it off, her heart feeling fragile and new in her chest.

Then she kissed him. His mouth was firm and smooth and so, so good at what it was doing, and that golden heat filled her, making her warm and slow and lazy with its sweetness.

And heck, there was a fire and a blanket and a beautiful man, and now rain pattered on the clear roof of the barn, and if there was a better place to make love, Faith didn’t know what it was.

A good while later, the patter had turned into a steady rush, blowing the last of the leaves onto the roof. Blue lay on his back in front of the fire, dreaming of being a ball boy at the U.S. Open, his paws twitching. Faith was against Levi’s side, her head on his shoulder, warm and sleepy from the heat of the fire and her man’s warmth.

Yep. Her man. That worked.

“Can I ask you a question?” Levi’s voice was just a rumble in his chest.

“Sure.”

“What’s it like to have a seizure? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he added.

“No, it’s okay.” She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. The question was familiar. “At first, I have what they call the aura. I get worried, like something really bad’s about to happen. Doomsday bad. I can feel my body doing things—I know I pull at my shirt, and I feel almost panicky, and then I just...check out.”

“What’s that like?”

“I don’t know. It’s just...empty.” She ran her hand over his smooth skin, feeling the muscles underneath. “What’s funny is how people act afterward. Or during, I guess, but I only see them afterward.”

“How do they act?” he asked.

“It depends on the person. You were pretty good. Kind of perfect, actually.”

“I get that a lot.” There was that lovely smile in his voice.

“I’m sure. Especially from the over-eighty crowd.”

“Correct. How do other people act?”

She thought a minute. “Well, when we were little, Jack would stay away from me, like I was about to burst into flames. Except, of course, for the time he filmed me for a Boy Scout badge or something. My mother almost killed him. Pru was pretty good. Honor...it’s funny, Honor would cry.”

“Honor cries?”

“I know.” She smiled.

“How about your parents?” he asked.

“Well, Dad would look like I’d died and come back. He’d be totally spent and relieved. I think it was harder on him than on me. And my mom would be...well.” Faith stopped. The rain was harder now.

“Mom would be what?”

“She’d be mad.” It felt sacrilegious, saying something negative about her dead mother.

Levi rolled over to look at her. The frown lines and crinkled forehead were back. “Your mother couldn’t have been mad at you because you had a seizure, Faith,” he said.

“No, I guess not. Mad that I had epilepsy, mad at the universe maybe. But it used to seem like she was mad at me.” She gave a small shrug. “But no, she probably wasn’t.”

“Can you imagine being mad at your kid because she had a seizure?”

The image of a little girl with sleepy green eyes came to her, so clear that she sucked in a breath, then cleared her throat. “No. Anyway. Let’s change the subject.” She paused. “My turn for a question. How’d you do in Afghanistan?”

His eyes changed, as if a door had closed. A second ago, they’d been gentle and kind...now, there was nothing in them. “I did fine.”