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.”

      Pru put the bag on her crotch. For the love of... “Hey, Levi!” she said amiably. “Got a bikini wax today. I do not recommend it. The pain was unbelievable! I swear the woman was enjoying it, all that ripping and tearing. Shoot, these are cold! I might be getting frostbite.”

      You’d think that four tours would’ve steeled him for such a mental image. They didn’t. “Hi,” he murmured.

      “Mrs. Johnson, say hello to Levi,” Faith said, coming over to his side.

      “Good evening, Chief Cooper,” Mrs. Johnson said. “What are you doing in my kitchen?”

      “He’s here for dinner.” Faith slid her arm around his waist, her warm, sweet smell coming to him. “He’s my honey.”

      Her honey, was it? Sounded kind of...nice.

      “Which does not answer the question of why he’s standing right in front of the salt potatoes when they’re nearly ready. Shoo, Chief! Get out!”

      “Thanks for the peas, Mrs. J.,” Pru said. “Want them back in the freezer or what?”

      “Throw them away, child!”

      “Fine, fine,” Pru said, walking like a cowboy after a hard day in the saddle. “Waste not, want not, I always thought.”

      “Oh, Goggy and Pops are here!” Faith said, abandoning Levi yet again.

      The housekeeper gave him another glare. “Well? Go. What are you waiting for?”

      An eternity later, the Holland family, Jeremy and Levi were jammed around the dining room table. Old Mr. and Mrs. Holland, John, Pru, Ned and Abby, Honor and Jack. And Faith, flanked by Jeremy and himself.

      “Faith, we never see you anymore,” Mrs. Holland said.

      “I was over yesterday,” she said.

      “You young people. Always so busy.”

      “So what? She should be busy. Before she knows it, she’ll end up trapped for sixty-five years,” Mr. Holland said.

      “Dad, knock it off,” John said patiently. “Jack, pass the bread, will you?”

      “Jeez, Ned, stop it!” Abby barked. “Mom! He’s kicking me under the table!”

      “Ned, for crying out loud, you’re a legal adult,” Pru snapped. “Don’t make me get up to hit you. I’m totally chafed.”

      “College, college, college,” Abby chanted, putting her fingers in her ears. He smiled at her, only to have her glare back at him. He’d just given her the sentence for her foray into underage drinking: twelve hours of community service.

      His head was starting to ache from the din of approximately six separate conversations in which everyone spoke at once and no one listened. He glanced at his watch, wondering how long they’d have to stay.

      “Levi, just what are your intentions toward my daughter?” John asked abruptly.

      “Daddy,” Faith sighed. “Come on. We talked about this.”

      “So?” John stared expectantly. “I think I have the right to know what your plans are. Faith is my daughter. My princess.”

      “Yeah, Faith, where is that crown, by the way?” Jack asked, taking more potatoes.

      Pru snorted. “Honor, did Dad ever call you his princess? I’m pretty sure I was never called princess by anyone.”

      “I believe only Faith holds that title,” Honor said.

      “Girls, don’t be ridiculous. You’re all three my princesses. Levi? Answer the question.”

      “I intend to date her, sir,” Levi said.

      “Whatever that means these days,” John grumbled.

      “It means sex,” Abby added, getting an elbow from her mother. “What?” she asked. “How can I not be aware of it when you and Daddy are doing it all the time?”

      “Well, Faith,” said Mrs. Holland, “I think you should date a long, long time. Your grandfather took me for two walks before we were married. I wish I’d gotten to know him first, rather than count on my parents’ judgment.”

      “So you guys were an arranged marriage?” Abby asked, perking up.

      “More or less,” Mrs. Holland said. “You think I would’ve married him if my parents weren’t—”

      “Dying to get rid of her?” Mr. Holland interjected.