Dad,” he said. “Hi, I’m the son.” He stuck out his hand to Maxine, who shook it. Jack’s eyes widened. “That’s some grip,” he said, glancing in horror at Faith.
“I have one more daughter who’s not here,” Dad said, beaming. “But you’ve met seventy-five percent of my offspring. And since they’re the most important things in my life, I guess it’s good to get that covered.”
“A beautiful family,” Maxine said. “But I’m afraid I have to go. Too bad I didn’t know you’d be popping in, John! I have a dinner date with the lovely old gentleman who lives next door to me, and he barely gets out, so I’d feel terrible if I was late. But I hope we can see each other again!”
“I think that would be great,” Dad said.
“Yeah, no, that’s...that’s great,” Faith said. “Um, it was so nice to meet you.”
Jack and Honor murmured in agreement, their faces a bit pained.
Maxine got out of the booth and grabbed Faith’s hands. “Thank you, sweetheart,” and, yeah, husky wasn’t quite the right word to describe that voice.
“Take care,” Faith said. She kissed Maxine’s cheek, getting a bit of stubble.
“John, wonderful meeting you. Have a lovely weekend.” She tilted her head and waved, then off she went. Faith sat back down.
“I really liked her,” Dad said. “Good job, Faithie. She’s lovely.”
“Dad,” Faith said. “I, uh...Maxine is not going to be your girlfriend.”
He paused. “Why?”
Honor shook her head and sighed.
“Well,” Faith began, hoping to break this gently. “Did you notice anything about Maxine? Anything at all?”
Her father frowned. “She’s tall.”
“That’s it, Dad. Run with it,” Jack said, taking a long pull of his beer.
“Um...very warm and well spoken. Pretty.”
“Pretty is not really the word here,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t handsome do better?”
“Sure. I guess so,” Dad said.
Honor sighed, and turned to look at their father. “Dad, Maxine is a man.”
Dad blinked. “What?”
“She’s a man, Dad.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Oh, but she is,” Honor said, taking a nacho covered in cheese.
“But she—”
“No, Honor’s right,” Jack said. “It’s a boy.” His shoulders started shaking in a silent laugh.
“Oh,” Dad said. “Uh...oh. I see.” Then he bit his lip and started laughing, too.
Honor rolled her eyes. “Colleen, can I get a very strong martini?” she called. “Bone dry, three olives.” She looked at Faith. “I’ll give you this, Faith. She was better than Lorena.”
“So you kids don’t want a stepfather, is that correct?” Dad said, wiping his eyes with a cocktail napkin, and though Faith laughed along with them, that familiar feeling of guilt twisted in her stomach.
She still hadn’t made things right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I THINK IT’S FANTASTIC that you guys are together. Really. You’re perfect for each other.” Jeremy beamed at them like a proud parent.
Faith made a noncommittal noise, looked in her wine and tried not to cringe. Levi, she imagined, was doing something similar, though of course he was too stoic and manly to cringe, but inside, he’d be cringing, too.
They were at Jeremy’s for dinner—a celebratory dinner, he’d said, because the two people he loved best in the world were shtupping each other. He seemed to be the only one celebrating, however, and it was quite possible he was a little too happy, which was rather grating.
Jeremy had figured it out during what had become their weekly lunch at Hugo’s. Levi had come in for something or another, wearing a gun and looking incredibly smokin’ alpha protector, and she’d fought the urge to wrap herself around him like a python. “Gotta go,” he’d said, and Faith had muttered goodbye, and the second Levi was out of earshot, Jeremy’s eyes had widened. “You two are doing it, aren’t you?” he’d whispered gleefully.
Yes. They were. But it was a little early to be thinking thoughts like perfect or even together. Levi was hard to figure out. On the one hand, he’d come to her apartment door six out of the eight nights since they’d first slept together. And the sex was great. She honestly hadn’t known sex like that really existed outside of Ryan Gosling movies. Skyscraping, mind-blowing, tunnel-of-light great. Before and during sex, and immediately afterward, it felt as if they had something going on, something—she barely even dared to think the word—special.
Otherwise, not so much. She’d dropped by to see him the other day at the station; he’d asked, “What can I do for you, Faith?” with a completely straight face, like she wanted to discuss her parking tickets (which she really should pay...sleeping with the police chief hadn’t prevented him from ticketing her car in the forty-five seconds she’d been double-parked in front of Lorelei’s).
Then last night during nooky, he’d put a hand over her mouth, smiling. “You’ll wake the neighbors,” he’d said.
“Don’t stop,” she’d whispered.
Hmm. Now that she thought of it, that had been their longest conversation. Levi had been working constantly—there’d been a small crime spree in east Manningsport. He’d gone up to Geneva to have dinner with Sarah (and hadn’t asked her to come...which was fine, but still, she really liked Sarah, and if she and Levi were in something, it’d be nice to see his sister more. Right?).
So tonight was their first “date,” not that it had been either of their ideas. It was the brainchild of Jeremy—Jeremy, who was dressed in black jeans, a blue striped shirt, untucked, and yellow river man’s sweater with four buttons unopened at the neck. Good old Banana Republic.
Levi, on the other hand, wore faded jeans with a tear in the knee, work boots and a flannel shirt, and despite her growing irritation with the man, it was getting hard not to rip open that shirt and take a bite.
But so far, Levi had barely said two words to her. Make that one. He’d said hey when he came in the door, half an hour after he was supposed to be there.
“I should’ve thought of this years ago,” Jeremy now said. “Faith and Levi. Levi and Faith.” Again with the beaming.
“Well, years ago, we were together, Jeremy,” Faith said, a trifle testily. Levi said nothing. She resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
“Right, right! But you two have, you know...chemistry.”
Faith
