The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)

The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2) Page 24

Colleen towed him back in the room and gestured to one of the empty metal chairs.

“Just sit there and look pretty,” Colleen said, taking a seat. “Let’s pretend we don’t know each other. We’re supposed to ask three questions each. I’ll go first.”

“Of course you will,” he murmured.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Cheeseburgers made at O’Rourke’s,” he answered.

“Oh, good answer!” she said, clapping. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was such a girl question. Did he even have a favorite color? Blue? Red? “Green,” he said.

“Super. And last one, what’s your favorite position?” She gave him a leer, and Levi just smiled. “Well, points for trying,” Colleen said. “I was gonna write it in the bathroom stall at the bar. When are you gonna start dating again, Levi?”

“Three questions was all you got.”

Someone’s watch or phone beeped, and all the women got up and shifted. Colleen blew him a kiss. He nodded back. The next woman was the one who’d stroked his tattoo. Her questions were, Do you  believe in love at first sight, have you ever spanked a woman  and what’s your favorite color. His answers were no, no and red.

“Okay, ask me anything,” she said.

Levi sighed. “Um, what’s your name?”

“Donna. I already told you that.” She gave him a huge smile and squeezed her arms together, making her leathery cle**age swell. “Want to come back to my place and work on that spanking?”

For crying out loud. “I think it’s still my turn for questions. Uh, what’s your favorite color?”

“Pink! I’m actually wearing pink underwear. Want to see?”

“Still my turn. What are your views on the Mideast peace talks?”

“I think everyone should totally get along, don’t you? Want to go out sometime?”

Mercifully, the timer sounded again. “Nice meeting you,” he said.

Faith sat down in front of him. The night just kept getting better. “Oh, my gosh,” she said to the departing lady. “I think he likes you! He was just checking out your ass.”

“Shut it, Faith,” he muttered.

“Really?” the woman said. She slapped her own butt and winked at him.

“Looks like you made a friend,” Faith told him. “That’s so you, Levi. Such a friendly person.”

“Do you have three questions?”

“I do, actually. Not that I want to date you, of course.”

“Yes, I remember.”

That got her. Pink rose in her cheeks (and neck...and chest, there was the mighty rack again, showcased in a red V-neck, and really, there was nothing like a redhead in red). She unfolded a piece of paper. “Have you ever been in prison?”

Okay, well, at least it wasn’t his favorite color. “No.”

“Have you fathered any children, and are you involved in their lives if so?”

“No kids.”

“How many women have you slept with?” She gave him a knowing look. “If you can count that high, that is.”

The number wasn’t as high as his reputation, apparently. “Pass. Next question?”

“Can you provide me with your social security number so I can run a background check on you?”

“Hard to believe you’re still single.” He lifted an eyebrow at her, and she folded up her list, making a huffing noise.

“Don’t crinkle your forehead at me, Levi Cooper. Questions like this cut through the garbage. Who cares if you like moonlit walks or love old movies or if you’re married or g*y or live in your mother’s basement?”

She had a point. “I hate old movies,” he said.

“Me, too. They’re so schmaltzy. Give me a horror flick any day.”

“I like horror movies, I don’t live in my mother’s basement, I’m not married and I’m not g*y,” he said.

And all of a sudden, an electric current seemed to hum between them. She seemed to feel it, too, because her cheeks flushed, and her eyes seemed to soften. You need to get laid, his brain reminded him.

Shit. Not with Faith Holland and all her baggage. No matter how much his body was starting to growl.

“Exnooze me,” came a baby voice, and Levi jumped as something nudged his ear. It was Donna, and holy hell, she had a puppet on her hand. A pig, waving at him. “Do you wike animoos? I wuv dem!” Her voice changed back to normal. “I do puppet shows at children’s parties. I love kids, don’t you? I’d like to have a few.”

Faith smiled at him, the timer sounded, and both women went on to someone else.

SO FAITH HADN’T FOUND her future husband. She hadn’t really expected to, but she’d gotten three phone numbers for Dad and would begin screening tomorrow. The night wasn’t a total bust.

Levi drove in manly silence all the way home; she asked him to take Route 54 instead of Lancaster Road, but he hadn’t asked why; just grunted and done as she requested.

You know, for a second there, she could’ve sworn that something had passed between them. Maybe. Whatever it was, imagined or not, it had vaporized almost instantly.

“This was such a good idea,” Colleen said. “Sugar daddy, here I come.”

“I just feel bad that my father left,” Faith said.

“I just feel bad that you won’t let me marry him,” Coll returned. “Wouldn’t I make a great stepmother?”

“He’d be dead in a week,” Faith said.

“Levi, did you find anyone? That lady with the tattoos, she was kinda hot.”

“Or the puppeteer,” Faith couldn’t help adding. “Very kinky.”

“I was just there as the instructor,” he said.

“Well, you should find a nice girl,” Colleen said. “I’ll be on the lookout.”

“No, thanks.”

Colleen sighed dramatically. “Faith, his heart was broken when his evil wife left him. We have to help.”

“Do we?” she asked. “He seems to want to be left alone.”

“Correct,” he said, glancing in the rearview.

Pretty eyes. Levi Cooper definitely had pretty eyes.

She kind of hoped Levi would drop Colleen off first. Why, she didn’t know, but the thought of being alone in the car with Levi Cooper made her knees tingle.

But, no. Geographically, the Old House came first, and sure enough, Levi pulled into the driveway. She said goodbye to Colleen, thanked him for the ride, then stood, watching them back out, oddly jealous that Colleen would have three more minutes in the car with Chief McYummy.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“FAITH, SINCE YOU’RE NEW, why don’t you get us started off, honey?” said Cathy Kennedy, the leader of Women’s Bible Study.

“I thought it was my turn,” said Carol Robinson, one of the power walkers Faith had almost hit on her way into town a few days ago. Honestly, the six of them walked abreast, like they wanted to end up in the hospital.

“Well, Faith is new, so let her have a turn.”

Faith smiled. Cathy was definitely a contender for Dad’s girlfriend. Last night, Lorena of the Leopard Print had been at dinner again, and Faith had been summoned by an urgent call from Honor, who’d had a wine tasting over at The Red Salamander. Sure enough, Lorena had innocently been rifling through the desk in the den while Dad read the paper, oblivious. When Faith had asked if she could help her find something, Lorena had said she lost an earring last time she’d been there. “That woman is going to rob your father blind,” Mrs. Johnson had growled when Faith had gone into the kitchen, banging a pot to reinforce her point.

So, yeah. Where better to find a nice woman than Bible Study? Only one of the three candidates from Singles Shooting Night had held up; one didn’t like children, and the other seemed to have a gambling problem. Number Three was still under investigation, but she lived kind of far away.

“We’re at, let’s see, now, Exodus, chapter four, verse twenty-five. Go ahead, Faith,” Mrs. Kennedy said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kennedy,” Faith said, looking at her Bible. “Um...okay, here we are. ‘Then Zipporah took a sharp stone,  and cut off the foreskin of her son—oh, crikey, are you kidding  me?—and cast it at his feet, and said, ‘Surely a bloody  husband art thou to me.’ Am I in the right chapter?” Horrified, she glanced around at the other women.

“Perfect!” Cathy said. “Shall we discuss?”

“Was the baby crying?” Carol asked. “You slice off his little foreskin with a rock and throw it on the ground, I want to know what the baby’s doing.”

“Might not have been a baby,” Lena Smits observed. “Sometimes those boys were fifteen, sixteen years old when this happened.”

“I doubt it,” Mrs. Corners said. “My grandson won’t even let his mother hug him. I doubt he’d let anyone circumcise him with a rock.”

“I doubt it, too,” Faith said, suppressing a dry heave. Surely, God would see how selfless she was being—senior citizen matchmaking and Bible Study rolled into one—and reward her with not only a pleasant stepmother, but also a nice husband and several cute babies.  Any time now, Big Guy, she thought.

And speaking of marriage...the last time Faith had been in Trinity Lutheran’s basement, she’d been wearing a wedding dress.

Well. No point in crying over spilled champagne. She wasn’t here to relive her aborted wedding day. She was here to pick up women.

Cathy Kennedy, sure. She’d been widowed a long time. Janet Borjeson was also single, though Honor had made disapproving noises when Faith had mentioned her. But still. She noted their names in the margin of the Book of Exodus.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Goggy asked.

Faith jumped. “Um, about the circumcision?” And really. Was there something wrong with Let the little children come to  me?

Goggy frowned. “No, honey. Barb’s thinking about a breast reduction. She’s had back pain for years.” Barb nodded in agreement.

First foreskins, now boobs. “Go for it. I hear you’ll be really perky afterward.”

“Exactly,” Barb said. “Thanks, Faith. You’re a doll, you know that?” She smiled. “You know, my grandson is single, honey. Shall I give him your number?”

Faith suppressed a shudder. Barb’s grandson had escorted her in, a living cliché for serial killer—shuffling feet, thinning hair and the creepy, unblinking gaze of Mark Zuckerberg. “Oh, that’s sweet of you, but, no. I, uh...no, thank you.”

“She’s still heartbroken over Jeremy Lyon,” Carol Robinson announced.

“No, I’m not,” Faith answered. “We’re friends.”

“How could you get over him?” Cathy said. “All that and a doctor, too. Did you know he actually had me laughing during my annual you-know-what?”

The topic switched to Jeremy’s gentle hands, and then to the new sneakers Carol had bought at seventy percent off during her trip to the outlets.

After an hour or so, which seemed to be spent discussing ungrateful grandchildren and knee replacements, and not Moses in the desert, Bible Study finally broke up. “This must bring back terrible memories for you,” Carol said. “This was the exact spot where Jeremy broke up with you, isn’t it?”

“It is, Mrs. Robinson. Thanks for bringing it up.” She kept her eye on Cathy, hoping to casually mention Dad.

“You poor thing! It must’ve been horrible! Did you really have no idea?”

“I didn’t. Big surprise, right? How about that Zipporah, huh? Interesting woman.”