Rom-Com Collection

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.”