Jeremy adjusted the blanket around Faith’s feet. “Little things mean a lot to her. Tell her she looks pretty or notice if she’s wearing a new dress. Talk to her. Bring her flowers.”

“Flowers. Got it.”

“And don’t be sarcastic. She’s fragile.”

“I actually think she’s pretty tough,” Levi said, his words tight.

“It’s an act.”

“Is that right?”

“I think so. I know her very well.” Jeremy smiled, and for a nanosecond, Levi felt like punching him.

“Well, if the advice portion of the evening is done, I think I’ll take the delicate flower home,” Levi said.

“Sure. I didn’t mean to be a dick or anything. I just want you guys to work.”

And that was the thing. Jeremy was a damn prince.

“Got it. You wanna wake Sleeping Beauty?”

“Faith,” Jeremy said in a loud voice, shaking her feet. “Faith, honey, time to wake up. Come on, now. Wake up.”

Nothing from Faith, who appeared to be in a deep coma. “Faith. Come on.” Jeremy was practically shouting at her now.

“Maybe a bucket of ice water?” Levi suggested.

“What? I heard that. Don’t throw anything at me,” Faith muttered. “I’m here. What day is it?” She struggled into a sitting position, frowning. Then she saw him, and her face softened. “Hi.”

That urgent feeling of wanting he’d had at his father’s house, the need to be with her—not necessarily to sleep with her, though that would be nice—but just to touch her, have her close...that feeling was back. “Ready to go?” he asked.

“Okay.” She leaned over and kissed Jeremy on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner. Sorry I fell asleep.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It was like old times.” He smiled. “Levi, let me pack up your food.”

When they got back to the Opera House, Levi followed her into her place. “Hi, handsome!” she said to her leaping dog. “Who’s a good boy? Hmm? Give me two minutes, and we’ll take a you-know-what.” She went to the kitchen and got a glass of water, then scootched up onto the island counter, swinging her feet. “I take it you’re staying over?” she said, pink staining her cheeks. She didn’t look at him.

Levi didn’t answer. Instead, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her and just lay his head against her chest. Felt some of the tension drain from his muscles as he breathed in her warm, sweet smell.

“You okay, Levi?” she asked softly.

“Yep.”

“What took you so long tonight?”

He imagined telling her about his father’s other kids, the happy little family he wasn’t part of. Maybe throw in some of the jealousy thing with Jeremy. Didn’t really see the point, all that talk about problems and issues and whatnot.

And, to be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know. Her, or anyone. “It just took a while, that’s all,” he said. He could stay here all day, against Faith’s gorgeous rack, listening to her breathe. Kinda perfect.

Except for one thing. “Faith?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“Your dog’s trying to impregnate my leg.”

She laughed, the sound rich and warm. “You’ll make beautiful puppies together.”

“Let’s take him for a walk.”

“And come back here and fool around?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He looked into those dusk-blue eyes. “You want to go out with me tomorrow? On a date?”

Her smile was a sight to see.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE MANNINGSPORT PUBLIC LIBRARY was closed on Saturday afternoons, but Faith had the code. Levi probably did, too, but he stood back and let her punch it in.

There was something magical about being in a library when no one else was around, she thought as they went through the darkened rooms to the children’s section. That, and Levi’s strong, calloused hand holding hers as the rain pattered on the roof. Holding hands for the first time. Funny, the sweet shock of such a small gesture.

“So it’s all done, then?” Levi said as she opened the back door to the courtyard.

“All done. The dedication is Wednesday night.” She paused. “Maybe you’ll be there?”

“I hope so,” he said.

His answer, while noncommittal, made her cheeks prickle with a blush just the same. “Well, here it is. Take a look around.”

The courtyard had been a bit of a challenge, since the space was so small. Previously, it’d had a cement bench and an anemic flower bed of red geraniums (cemetery flowers, Faith always thought), as well as a germ-laden birdbath. Few people had ever used the space.

Now, watching Levi take in her work, Faith felt a warm swell of pride. In each corner was a Japanese maple tree, chosen for their manageable size and gorgeous foliage. Next week, Julianne had said, the kindergarten reading group would be making wind chimes to hang in the branches, and Topper Mack had already made four birdhouses, miniatures of the library.

In between each tree sat four mahogany and chestnut benches, made by Samuel Hastings. Faith had kept the carpenter busy this fall. Each bench had been donated by a founding family of Manningsport—the Hollands, of course, the Mannings, the Meerings and the van Huesens. The southern wall had no window and, since it got the sun all day, had made the courtyard stifling; this was the wall where Faith had designed a sleek waterfall that ran in a smooth, fluid sheet, the sound soft and soothing.

In the bulk of the space, Faith had created a circular path lined with low boxwoods and paved with old brick, which led to the object that, in Faith’s opinion, made the courtyard great: a life-size, bronze statue of Dr. Seuss, reading a copy of The Lorax as the furry little creature looked on.

Levi stood there now. “Dr. Seuss, huh?” he said. His hair had darkened in the light rain. “Why him?”

“Because he’s the greatest children’s author in the world,” she said. “In my opinion, anyway. The library board seemed to agree.”

“Happy Birthday to You was my favorite,” Levi said, brushing a fallen leaf off Dr. Seuss’s foot. “I used to read that after—I read that a lot.”

“After what?” Faith asked, pulling her jacket closer.

He glanced over. “After my father left,” he said after a pause, looking back at the statue.

Right. She’d always known Levi’s dad wasn’t in the picture, but he’d never mentioned it before. Her heart tugged, picturing Levi as a little boy, reading the joyfully exuberant book to counteract the misery he must’ve felt. “How old were you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. “This is really nice, Faith,” he said after a minute. “The kids’ll love it.”

Looked like the subject of his father was off-limits. “Thanks.” She paused. “The idea was to take a space that no one really saw and make it beautiful. Get people to appreciate what nature has to offer, get them away from their phones and computers and take a breath and listen to the birds and the water and just...be.”

“Is that what all your projects are supposed to do?”

She shrugged. “I guess so. Yes.” Now that she’d said it out loud, it sounded a little dorky. Dorktastic, maybe. Hopefully.

Levi was looking at her steadily. “You hungry?”

“Sure,” she said. “Want to go to O’Rourke’s?”

“Nope,” he said, coming back to reclaim her hand. “A picnic. I checked with Honor, and she said the Barn at Blue Heron was free.”

Twenty minutes later, they were hiking up the hill. Levi held a good-sized brown bag with “Lorelei’s” stamped on one side, as well as a blanket. The late October rain had petered off to a drizzle, and it was incredibly romantic, a Saturday afternoon picnic on a chilly autumn day.

Despite the fact that she’d worked on the barn for six solid weeks, the sight of it was still a small shock. The plants had withered from the cold—it’d been thirty degrees last night—but it was still beautiful. Leaves had gathered on the roof in one corner; she’d have to come up with a ladder and take care of that.

Levi spread out the blanket on the floor of the barn, then got to work, grabbing kindling from the little alcove next to the fireplace. Once the fire was blazing, he sat down. “Hungry?”

“Starving. Feed me, Chief.”

He smiled then, just a little, and Faith’s heart gave a sweetly painful tug. Levi Cooper didn’t smile enough. She’d like to change that.

The wind gusted around them, sending puffs of smoke from the fireplace once in a while. They sat on the blanket and ate Lorelei’s beautiful sandwiches, roast beef and horseradish mayonnaise with sharp cheddar cheese on a hard roll, egg salad with dill on a thick rye. A bag of potato chips, two bottles of iced tea. And, for dessert, chocolate cookies, thick and dark and chewy. Faith closed her eyes as she chewed. “These are proof of a loving God,” she murmured. “Lorelei should be canonized.”

“She didn’t make them,” Levi said.

Faith opened her eyes. “Really? Oh! Are these the source of that heavenly smell at three o’clock in the morning?”

He nodded, looking, for the life of her, a little shy.

“Good job, big man,” she said. “I should tell Barb at the newspaper. ‘Chief Cooper’s Baking Secrets’ or ‘War Hero Secretly a Midnight Baker.’”

“Don’t you dare.” There was that almost-smile again.

“Why? The townspeople would love it. Don’t hide your light under a bushel, Chief Cooper.”

“Hush, woman. Close your eyes and eat another. You’re fun to watch.”

She obeyed, trying not to think of her thighs and the effect these cookies would have. It was worth it. When she opened her eyes, Levi was looking at her, his face solemn, two lines running between his brows. His eyes looked gray today, same color as the sky.

“I’m sorry I called you a tease that day,” he said. “You weren’t.”

The memory knifed into her heart. That day, when he’d given her the kiss that had so stunned her, not far from this very place. She swallowed the cookie in a lump. “That was a long time ago, Levi.”

“I know. But I’ve been thinking about it, a little. Thought about it a few times over the years.” He looked at the fire. “It wasn’t my finest moment. I’d just kissed my best friend’s girlfriend, and I wanted someone to blame. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. The fire popped and hissed. Shoot. Now or never. “Levi, is this a relationship, or are we just fooling around?”

Because if it wasn’t a relationship, she’d better lasso her heart and bring it back to the stable, since it was obvious that thing was galloping away.

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.