The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(96)

“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.”