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That part wasn’t satisfying. The satisfying part was donating the box we found to Haverwood College, a smallish school about an hour away, where they’ve got a conservation lab that specializes in local early Americana. The Sprucevale Historical Society will never, ever house it, so help me God.
The box itself turned out to be a jewelry box that probably originated somewhere near Baltimore and was likely stolen from a woman on the Wilderness Trail. The ring is more of a mystery, but it seems to be a wedding ring.
The letters were the real prize, though. They were water-damaged and two hundred years old, but with the magic of science, they’ve deciphered a few and it turns out that Phineas Harte was secretly married to a former prostitute named Pearl. The letters are hers to him.
None of it’s really valuable, unless, of course, you run the Sprucevale Historical Society and would love to get your hands on something like that.
“Leave cleanup for tomorrow,” I call into the kitchen, where I can hear Levi clanking things around.
“Then we’ll have to do it tomorrow,” he points out.
“Yes, that’s the point,” I say, still lying on the couch. “Tomorrow isn’t now. Now is now.”
He says nothing, and I sigh, then heave myself off the couch. Everything tilts a little bit because I had one whiskey too many, and I stand still until the world rights itself.
“Come on,” I say, walking into the kitchen past Hedwig, who’s politely waiting for us to take our eyes off a cheese plate.
“If we leave this for tomorrow, you just won’t want to do it then,” he points out, stacking plates next to the sink.
I wrap my arms around him from behind, lean one cheek against his back.
“That sounds like a problem for future June,” I say.
He’s warm. Very warm. And very solid, and all sexy and muscly and stuff and also he’s washing dishes and I’m drunkish and oops, I think I’m getting wet.
Levi shuts the water off, dries his hands, then turns around in my arms.
“You’re not going to let me clean up, are you?” he asks, his voice low, sonorous.
“Nope.”
“Can I put the cheese away before Hedwig eats it?” he asks.
I sigh dramatically.
“Fine,” I say, and he kisses me on top of the head, then grabs the cheese and puts it into the fridge.
I grab his butt while he’s bent over, and in one swift move he turns and then traps me against the counter.
“How about I seduce you instead of doing the dishes?” I ask.
He’s holding onto the counter on either side of my hips, looking at me like he’s amused.
“Go on, I’m listening,” he says.
I grab his belt loops, tug him in.
“Well,” I say, still drunk-ish. “First, we make out some in the kitchen while I get you out of your clothes, and then we go upstairs and I dazzle you with an array of erotic delights. Or I dazzle you on the couch. Or I just dazzle you right—”
I don’t get to finish listing the places where I could dazzle him, because he kisses me instead, his lips slow and warm against mine, his hands sliding through my hair, his hips pinning mine to the counter.
“I’m dazzled,” he says, his voice so low and quiet it’s barely audible.
“That was easy,” I whisper.
“Well, I’m easy when it comes to you.”
I put one hand on his chest, his heart beating under my palm. We kiss again, and then he pulls away, his thumb still on my cheekbone, and he looks at me.
Just looks. I’ve almost gotten used to this, but not quite: the way he looks at me like I’m a map of hidden places, like he finds something new every time he searches.
“Thank you for making me have this party,” he says.
“You’re welcome,” I say, surprised.
“It can be easy to give into hermitude,” he says. “I think you’re good for me, June.”
“Even though now you own an atrocious bear statue?”
He smiles, glances down at my lips.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Anything.”
“I kind of like the bear statue.”
“Levi,” I whisper in mock-horror.
“It’s growing on me,” he admits. “I didn’t like it at first, but it’s sure something.”
I sigh, both hands on his chest. I’m not thinking about the bear statue. I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to Levi once I get him naked.
“Can it at least go on the back porch?” I ask. “That can’t be the first thing people see when they visit us.”
“All right,” he concedes. “Can I tell you another secret?”
“It is also home decor related?”
“I have a wild crush on you, June,” he says, putting his forehead to mine, and I laugh.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because I’ve got a wild crush on you,” I say. “And I’ve got no intention of stopping.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
We kiss. I’ve always liked kissing Levi and I think I always will, because he kisses the way he does everything: thoroughly, properly, and in his own time.
