Running Into Love (Fluke My Life 1)

“Sure.” I nod, and then watch him unfold his tall, lean frame from my couch and stand. I continue to watch his ass as he walks across the apartment and out the door. “I think I’m in over my head.”

“Ruff.”

“I know, girl. Trust me, I know,” I whisper to Muffin as she plops to her bottom and stares at the door.

When the door opens a couple of minutes later, I hurry to the kitchen and grab plates and napkins, along with two bottles of water from the fridge as Levi heads to the couch with the pizza. “Are you okay with us finding something else to watch?” he asks as I walk toward him.

“You don’t want to watch P.S. I Love You?” I joke as he takes a seat.

“If we watch it, will you cry?”

“Probably,” I say truthfully. I always cry watching it, which is part of the reason I was watching it earlier. I figured I could use the movie as an excuse for shedding a few tears.

“I think you’ve had enough crying for the day.”

“True,” I mutter as he takes the stuff in my hands from me, setting it all on the coffee table. “Pick whatever you like.” I hand him the remote, and he flips through the channels so quickly that I can’t keep up. He lands on a true crime detective show I actually watch all the time. “I love this show.”

“It’s good,” he agrees, opening the lid on the pizza box. The second the scent hits my nose, my stomach growls, and he grins. “Hungry?”

“A little . . .” He raises a brow. “Okay, a lot.” I sigh, watching him laugh. Picking up one of the plates, he slides a slice of each kind of pizza onto it, then hands it over to me before doing the same with his own plate. “So have you caught your bad guy yet?” I ask quietly after a minute, and his eyes come to me and soften.

“Not yet, but I have a few more leads now, so I’m making progress.”

“That’s good.”

“It is.” He leans back on the couch, getting comfortable. Doing the same, I tuck my feet under me, rest my plate on my lap, and try to focus on the TV and not the fact that he’s sitting next to me on my couch, in my apartment, while we are alone. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

“My sisters and I always go out to Long Island to my parents’ for the holidays. What about you?”

“I’m on call that night. I’ll probably head to Connecticut a couple days after and pray that my brothers haven’t eaten all the leftovers by then.”

“So you’re going to be alone on Thanksgiving?” I question, feeling a ping of sadness at the idea of him sitting alone in his apartment while everyone else is enjoying time with their families.

“I’ll probably be working, so it’s not a big deal.”

“But still, that’s sad,” I say quietly before taking a bite of pizza.

“It comes with the territory.” He shrugs, taking a bite of his own pizza.

“I guess you’re right; my dad missed a lot of holidays, so I know it’s a sacrifice you have to make.”

“Most women don’t get that,” he says, and I look at him.

“Pardon?”

“Most women don’t get that my job is important. I don’t have a nine to five where I’m home in the evenings, and things happen that mean I may get a call during dinner or a date that can pull me away.”

“Oh.” I nod, not quite understanding why he’s telling me that. Clearing my throat, I take another bite of pizza, then look at Muffin when she whines and drops her head to her paws while staring at Levi with wide puppy-dog eyes.

“Can she have a piece?”

“Sure.” I shrug expecting him to give her a small piece from one of his slices. Instead I watch with wide eyes as he gives her a whole slice of her own. “Um . . .” I press my lips together as she takes it from his hand and carries it, half hanging out of her mouth, to the kitchen.

“You said she could have some.”

“I thought . . . Never mind.” I laugh, shaking my head, and he grins. Finishing off both my pieces of pizza, I’m thankful that I have on my yoga pants, since there is no way I would be able to breathe if I didn’t. Groaning, I lean forward to set my plate on the coffee table and hear him laugh.

“You okay?”

“Stuffed.” I lean back as he picks up another slice.

“I used to think Chicago had the best pizza until I moved to New York,” he says, folding his new slice in half and taking a huge bite.

“I’ve never had Chicago-style pizza.”

“You haven’t?”

“No, I’m a New Yorker. In New York you only eat one kind of pizza.”

“Have you traveled?”

“Some, but not much.”

“What about family vacations when you were younger?”

“Like you said, your job means you have to make sacrifices. My mom and dad are glued to each other. My mom would never take us on a vacation unless my dad could go along, and since that was rarely possible, we didn’t do much traveling.” I shrug and watch his eyes fill with something close to regret. “I had an amazing childhood,” I say, feeling like I need to reassure him for some strange reason. “We lived a few blocks from the beach, so during the summer that’s where we would spend our days. I never missed traveling because I was always happy right where I was.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

“Have you traveled a lot?” I ask, watching him chew and swallow the bite he just took.

“Some. I’ve got family in Chicago and Georgia, so at least every couple of years we make it a point to go see them.”

“All my family is in Long Island. My mom and dad grew up there, along with their brothers and sisters. No one ever moved away, so we never had to travel to see anyone since we all lived on the same block.”

“Are you all close?”

“If you’re asking are they constantly in my business and annoying me, the answer is yes,” I say. He throws back his head, and a deep rumbling laugh comes out that makes my insides turn liquid.

“I get that, my family’s the same way.”

“Family is awesome,” I say sarcastically, and he chuckles as he finishes off his last bite of pizza.

“You done?” He nods to my plate on the table, and I smile.

“Yes, it was so good. Thank you.” I sit up quickly and try to take the plate from him when he starts to pick it up. “I’ll get it.”

“I’ve got it—relax.” He nudges me back down to the couch, and I sit back watching him take both our plates to the kitchen along with the pizza box.

“What the hell is happening?”

“What?” he asks, and I feel my eyes widen.

“Oh no, I was talking out loud to the TV. You know, asking what’s happening on the show, since we’ve missed most of it,” I blabber as he comes back toward me and looks at the screen—where a cell phone commercial is playing. Feeling my face heat in embarrassment, I bite my bottom lip and look away from him.

“Hmm.” He takes a seat next to me, this time closer than before. Muffin, who isn’t one to miss an opportunity to be petted, jumps up next to him, forcing him even closer as she lays her paws and head in his lap.

“You know she’s never really liked men before you.”

“Pardon?”

Clearing my throat I look at him, then Muffin, who is now in dog heaven as Levi’s big hand and strong-looking fingers run through her fur. “Um . . . she’s never liked a guy before you. I mean, she likes my dad, but she hates my uncles and cousins. I have to board her whenever I go to my parents for a few days.”

“Are you planning on having her boarded when you go away for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, she goes to Prestigious Paws downtown when I have to leave her.”

“Is that the place with the dog spa?” he asks with a smirk, and I smile.

“Yeah, she gets massages and manicures and she has her own TV in her room, plus I get to watch her on live video whenever I want.”

“Christ, that sounds better than some of the hotels I’ve stayed at.”

/>   “It probably is better—then again, it’s not cheap to board her with them, but I know my baby is taken care of, so that’s all that matters to me.”