“Sarah’s got some serious homesickness going on. Trying to drop out of college and move back here. I’d really like her to get an education. So if you two are talking about living away, I’d appreciate it if you encouraged that. I don’t want her to end up here because she never gave anything else a chance.” He ran a big hand through his hair, and Faith’s inner slut gave a moan. She remembered that hair, the soft, silky—I’m serious, said Mrs. Linqvest. Knock it off. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the fabric of his shirt straining against those thick, masculine arms.

Faith cleared her throat. “No, I get it. Everyone should live away from home, at least for a while.”

His eyes came back to hers. “Exactly.”

His eyelashes were awfully nice, long and straight and blond.

“You go get that possum,” Faith said. It sounded vaguely sexual, for some reason. Yes, Levi. Get that possum. Don’t stop getting it. Get it good. Mrs. Linqvest got out the ruler. “I’ll hang out with your sister. We can walk home together.”

“Thank you.”

The words caused a warm, liquid rush through her knees. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice a little husky.

Then he turned and left, raising his hand as someone called a good-night to him.

* * *

BY THE TIME LEVI GOT BACK from the call (the possum having been flushed out through the hole in the stone foundation, the hole temporarily patched with the help of young Andrew, and the cat found safe and sound, much to the sobbing relief of the Hedberg girls), O’Rourke’s was mostly empty. “Did my sister go home?” he asked Colleen, who was wiping down the bar.

“Faith said they were going out on the beach,” she said. “Don’t know if they’re still there.”

“Thanks.”

Levi went out the back door, past the parking lot where he’d pulled Faith from the window. That seemed like a long time ago. He wouldn’t mind seeing her in that black bra again, that was for sure. Or out of it.

Shit. He shouldn’t be having those thoughts again. Faith was...well, she wasn’t his type. Too—too much, that was all. Too delicious edible complicated. He should not have kissed her that morning. That had been really, really stupid. Hadn’t planned it, that’s for sure, but one kiss, and he’d felt an almost violent rush of lust slam into him, heavy and thick and immediate. Her mouth was so soft—all of her was so soft, like a bed you could sink into—and the smell of her, as inviting as cake warm from the oven, and when she’d made that little sound, he’d nearly lost it. Pulled back because if he’d kissed her another second, he’d have done her against the wall.

And that kind of thing, that got a little...out of control.

Faith was, first and foremost, Jeremy’s ex. Whatever the circumstances, Jeremy was her first love, and Levi didn’t like the thought of being runner-up to his best friend. And secondly, there was that overwhelming sense of being lost in the moment, being oblivious. He didn’t like that. He’d felt that twelve years ago when he’d kissed her, a kiss that had erased common sense and loyalty and whatever else that mattered.

And thirdly...she wasn’t even here permanently. John Holland had told him he was hoping Faith would stay in Manningsport. But the truth was, she had a whole life back in California. Once before, he’d fallen in love with a woman who’d left him. He shouldn’t charge head-on into doing it again.

Not that he was in love with Faith Holland.

The town beach was actually a little park—grass and some flowering trees, a few benches, a boat launch, a dock and a tiny sand beach at the edge of the lake. Stars dotted the sky, but no moon was out, and it took Levi’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness after the pinkish glow of the streetlights. There were Sarah and Faith, sitting on a bench, their shoulders touching, looking out over the dark water. Their backs were to him, so they didn’t see him approach across the grass.

He stopped at the sound of Sarah’s laugh. Hadn’t heard that for a while.

“No, but seriously, I know how you feel,” Faith said. “My mom died when I was young, too.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Sheesh. That sucks.”

“Yeah. Car accident.”

“So no time for goodbye?”

“Right.”

Sarah chewed that over. “I guess at least I had that.”

“Both ways are tough. There’s no getting around it. It’s so hard.”

“Do you still think about your mom?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Faith said. “Every day.”

Levi did, too. Every day, some thought of his mom would cross his mind—her energy, her total lack of self-pity. Even when she was doped up on morphine, she’d make him and Sarah laugh.

There was an unusual tightness in his throat.

“There are days when I’m so sad, I don’t think I can even get out of bed,” Sarah said now, her voice small. “All I want is my mom, and I have to go to classes and listen to all that stuff, and it just seems so shallow and meaningless, when I’d trade in everything for just another regular day with her.” His sister’s voice broke, and Faith put an arm around her.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. Nothing else, just that. She stroked Sarah’s hair in an unconscious way, idly, her head tipped against Sarah’s. Just petted her hair and let his sister cry.

“I know I should get over it,” Sarah said. “It’s been more than a year.”

“Well,” Faith said, “you don’t really get over it. You just learn to carry it better. And the only way to do that is to do the regular things. Get out of bed. Go to classes. Try to be normal, and pretty soon all that grief you carry...it gets easier.”

“That’s what Levi says,” Sarah said after a minute.

“I guess he’s not always a dope, then.”

“Most of the time, he is.”

“Yeah, I’d agree with you there.” There was a smile in Faith’s voice.

“I just...I feel her more when I’m here,” his sister said. “That’s why I don’t want to be at school.”

A pain stabbed Levi’s chest. Why didn’t his sister tell him that? Why did she whine about hard classes and her lack of friends if that wasn’t the real issue?

He thought he might know the answer.

Because he didn’t let her.

“Do you ever talk to her?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, sure,” Faith answered. She was lying, Levi thought.

“Does she ever answer? Like, do you ever think her spirit’s with you or something?”

Faith was quiet for a few seconds. “Yeah, I do.” Another lie, telling Sarah what she wanted to hear. “How about you?”

“Definitely. Levi just looks at me funny when I say that, but I feel her around sometimes.”

“Well, he’s a guy. They’re pretty thick.” There was another smile in Faith’s voice, and Levi felt the corner of his mouth tug.

“Total cement,” Sarah said.

“Lead.”

“Exactly.” Sarah straightened up and blew her nose. “Were you homesick when you first left?”

“Oh, yeah. I missed this place so much it actually hurt. I had a stomachache for weeks.”

“I know!”

“But, Sarah, if you stayed here and passed up on the chance to live away and be your own person, rather than Levi’s little sister...wouldn’t you always wonder what you missed?”

Good girl, Faith.

“I guess. I mean, theoretically, I do want to go to college and stuff. Live away, at least for a while. But it’s hard.”

“I know, honey.” Faith was quiet for a minute. “You know the saying. Everything worthwhile in life is hard.”

“Yeah. Levi quotes it on a daily basis.” Sarah stretched her arms over her head. “I should get home.” She turned, and, seeing him there, gave a little shriek. “Jeez! Levi! You shouldn’t just stand there like a serial killer! Say something next time!”

“I just got here, so settle down,” he said. “You two ready to call it a night?”

Faith stood up and brushed off her skirt. “Chief. How was the possum?”

“Feisty,” he said. Her white shirt glowed in the darkness. “Walk you home, girls?”

“So what’s your favorite thing to do in San Fran?” Sarah asked, trotting backward so she could see Faith as they walked up Lake Street, and Faith talked about the weather, the flowers, the food, the views. She made it sound like the best place on earth.

“Maybe I’ll go there for a semester,” Sarah said. “My school has swap programs with a bunch of colleges.”

Well, hell.

“It’s a great city,” Faith said. “Definitely look into it. If I’m still there, we could get together.”

They walked past the now-quiet green, the shops dark. “Look up there,” Faith said, and sure enough, a light was on in her apartment, silhouetting her dog as he stood with his paws on the windowsill. “Hi, Blue! Be there in a minute,” she called.

Levi held the door, and Faith’s hair brushed his chin as she went in, enveloping him in that smell. He followed her up the stairs. Great legs.

“Thanks for hanging out,” Sarah said as Levi unlocked their door.

“Oh, honey, it was really nice,” Faith answered.

“Sorry if I was a total drag.”

“You weren’t. Are you kidding?” She smiled and opened her own door, and her dog bounded out, dancing with joy.

“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.”