Virgin River (22 page)

He was in love with her. This man who had never been in love in his life. Not once. As a kid, a young man, he’d thought himself in love a couple of times, but it hadn’t felt like this. Lust, he was familiar with that. Wanting a woman was something he knew quite well—but wanting to take care of a woman so that she would never hurt, never want, never be afraid or lonely—he had no experience with that. There had been beautiful women in his past; intelligent women, clever women, women with wit and courage and passion, but as far as
he could remember, never one like Mel; never before a woman who had everything he’d ever wanted. And it just figures, he thought. I’m stupid in love with a woman who isn’t available to me. She’s still in a relationship, albeit a relationship that was no longer viable.

Didn’t matter. He’d held her while she was wracked with the pain of losing someone else. She had a lot to get over, to get past. Even if he stood by her and waited for that to happen, it didn’t mean she could fall in love with him. Still, he had no choice. He was into her all the way.

He finished the brandy, putting aside the glass, but he didn’t leave her. He watched her, occasionally succumbing to the temptation to softly, carefully, touch the silkiness of her hair. When she sighed contentedly in her sleep, he found himself smiling, pleased that she had found some peace. At some point he realized that he knew how she felt—once you know how much you love someone, no one else would do.

He looked down at the floor. I’ll be here for you, Mel, he thought. It’s the only place I want to be. When he raised his head, her eyes were open and she was looking at him. He stole a glance at the bedside clock and was surprised to see that two hours had passed.

“Jack,” she said in a whisper. “You’re here.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Of course I am.”

“Kiss me, Jack. When you kiss me, I can’t think of anything else.”

He leaned toward her and touched her lips with his for a soft kiss. Then more firmly, moving over her mouth, feeling her lips open and her small tongue enter.
Her hand crept around to the back of his neck to pull him closer, and his kiss became hungrier, deeper.

“Come in here with me,” she whispered. “Hold me. Kiss me.”

He pulled back slightly, but she wouldn’t let go of his neck. “I’d better not.”

“Why?”

He laughed a little. “I can’t just kiss you, Mel. I’m not a machine. I won’t want to stop.”

She pulled the covers back for him. “I know,” she said in a breath. “I’m ready, Jack. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

He hesitated. What if she called out another man’s name? What if the morning came and she was sorry? He had fantasized about this, but he wanted it to be the beginning of something, not the end.

Then you better make it good for her, he told himself. You’d better leave her wanting more. He slipped in beside her, pulling her into his arms, devouring her mouth with a kiss so hot and powerful she melted to him with a whimper. Her arms went around him, holding him as she yielded to his lips, his tongue. His sweatpants, so loose and soft, left nothing to the imagination and he was instantly hard against her. She moved against him, rubbed against him, inviting him. With a large hand on her bum, he held her there.

Jack rolled with her, bringing her on top of him. He grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt that covered her and raised it, pulling it over her head. When he felt her breasts against his bare chest, he said, “Ahhhh.” Her breasts were soft and full in his big hands, her nipples hard. Running his hands along her ribs to her hips, he found that she still wore her thong panties; he slid them
lower and she wiggled out of them. Her skin was so delicate, so smooth, he worried that his hands were too rough for her, but by her soft and eager moans, she was not unhappy with the sensation.

Holding her lips with his, he rolled with her again, so that they lay on their sides, and he took a moment to free himself from those sweats. Her hand wrapped around him, causing his breath to catch in his throat, and he thought, better not leave your boots on this time, buddy. You better do it for her. And he concentrated, because he’d never wanted to please a woman more than tonight.

Feeling her against him like this made it very difficult to slow down, to wait, but by sheer dint of will he managed. He took his leisure of her, employing a slow hand that fondled her breasts. His mouth followed, drawing on one nipple then the other. She arched toward him greedily, spreading her legs, throwing one over his hip, urging him closer. He slipped a hand down and touched her in her soft center, bringing a passionate moan from her. He touched her deeply, and learned that he wasn’t the only one feeling a little desperate. She was ready for him. Starving. “Mel,” he said in a throaty whisper.

“Yes,” she answered. “Yes.”

He turned her onto her back and held himself over her. He captured her mouth with his and entered her in one long, slow, deep, powerful stroke that caused her to gasp and rise against him urgently. With one hand under her bottom and the other still caressing a place that turned her sighs to moans, he began to move within her. The heat of her nearly drove him out of his mind, but he held on. He was determined that her needs would
come before his own. He moved steadily, pushing and pulling, and within moments her breathing came harder and faster, her body straining toward his, reaching for satisfaction. He was more than happy to deliver it, pushing into her, rubbing against her. And then he felt those hot spasms of fulfillment, heard her cry out in ecstasy and he held her fast, pressing himself into her. In that moment of blinding pleasure, she bit down on his shoulder; sweet, welcome pain. And he hung on with all the strength he could muster, saving himself, and finally she weakened beneath him and the clenching spasms that surrounded him slowly subsided. Her body relaxed and her breathing began to slow. Her pants became sighs and her kisses came soft and sweet against his lips.

Mel stroked his back, tasted his mouth, her body still quivering from a thundering climax. She felt the muscles of his shoulders and back at work as he held himself up enough to keep from crushing her with his weight. When he released her mouth and looked into her eyes, she saw in his a smoldering fire that was not even close to being extinguished. She put her palm against his cheek. “Oh, Jack,” she said, breathless.

His name on her lips brought him such pleasure, he felt himself expand somewhere inside his chest, as if his heart grew just a little bit. He lowered his lips and sucked gently at hers. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“You were right there. You know exactly how all right I am,” she said. “It’s been a long, long time.”

“It’s never going to be that long again,” he whispered. “Not ever again.”

He began to move down her body with his lips and
tongue, kissing and nibbling, tasting in slow, delicate strokes. He ran a tongue around each nipple until they were hard little pebbles, perfect for his mouth. He slid lower, until he had moved down over her flat belly. He gently parted her legs and buried his face in her, hearing her gasp above him. No longer delicate, he went to work on that prominent, erogenous knot in her center. He felt her moving her hips against his mouth and when her breathing became rapid and labored once more he rose, slowly kissing his way up her body. “God, you’re sweet,” he whispered against her lips. “You taste like heaven.” He slid into her again, filling her, moving in long deep strokes that became powerful thrusts that brought her to yet another shattering climax. Again she cried out and he covered her open mouth with his. Swept away, she couldn’t be quiet, and that thrilled him. Every sound, every wild cry gave him joy. He held her as she collapsed beneath him, spent.

Jack felt her small hands on his back, her lips on his neck, and her breathing inevitably slowed and came under control. To his surprise he heard the sound of her soft laughter. He raised above her and looked at her smile. “You lied to me,” she said. “You are a machine.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” he said. “Are you happy?”

“I’ve been happy a couple of times. What can I do so that you can join me?”

He laced his fingers through hers and holding her hands, stretched her arms up above her head, holding them there. “Baby, you don’t have to do anything but be present.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and began to move inside her once more, pumping his hips.
She lifted her knees and tilted beneath him, bringing him deeper, and he could feel her begin to move in concert with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he followed the rhythm she set in place. He rocked with her, slow and steady, deep and long, hanging on to control until he heard her moaning and sighing rise again, her tempo increased, and finally the noises she made, already familiar to him, already beautiful to him, told him she was reaching for yet another orgasm. He had expected her to be passionate, but the heat and power of her passion amazed him, and it filled a need in him. And this time, when she clenched around him and pleasure stole her breath away, he let himself go and matched her. Surpassed her. For a moment, through the powerful pulsing, he felt light-headed. His eyes watered. And he heard it again. “Jack!”

“Ah, Mel… Ah, baby,” he whispered, kissing her, loving her.

He gently caressed her as she calmed. “Jack,” she whispered. “I’m sorry…”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” he asked in a whisper.

“I think I bit you.”

He laughed, a deep throaty sound. “I think you did. Is that a habit of yours?”

“I must have been a little out of control…”

He laughed again. “I take the blame,” he said. “That was all part of the plan.”

“Ohhhh,” she said. “I might’ve lost my mind there for a while.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I love it when that happens.”

“You were taking a big chance, driving an already crazy woman out of her mind like that…”

“Nah, you were in good hands. You were always safe.” He kissed her softly. “Would you like to rest now?”

“Maybe for a little while,” she answered, her hands gentle on his face.

He gathered her close to him, holding her. Their naked bodies entwined, they spooned. He kissed the back of her neck as she lay on his arm. His face rested against her soft, fragrant hair, one arm over her and cupping her breast. Very soon he could hear the sounds of her even breathing, her sleep. He closed his eyes and relaxed with her in his arms, finding sleep himself.

Sometime in the dark of night he opened his eyes to find she had rolled over to face him, her hands boldly caressing him. He kissed her and asked, “Have you slept?”

“I did,” she said. “And woke up wanting you. Again.”

“I guess it’s pretty obvious, the feeling is mutual.”

Mel woke in the early morning and to her surprise, there was a song in her head. She was humming along with Johnny Mathis in her sleep. “Deep Purple.” Her music was back.

She rolled over to find the bed beside her empty. She could hear the sound of Jack splitting logs in the backyard. She rinsed her mouth and rubbed his toothpaste against her teeth. A light blue, long-sleeved denim shirt hung on a hook in his closet and she put it on, sniffing the collar, smiling at his scent on it. It more than covered her; she was drowning in it. She went to the back door and stood watching him heft the ax and bring it down. Thwack. The air was clear and sharp; the rain was gone and the huge trees were washed clean. She watched him heft the ax again, and bring it down. His
shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows and his biceps rippled under the weight and force of the ax.

Then he looked in her direction. She lifted a hand toward him and smiled.

He dropped the ax at once and came to her. As he stood before her, she put her hand on his chest. He ran the back of a knuckle against her pink cheek. “I think I roughed you up a little with whiskers.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I like it. It feels right. Natural. Good.”

“I love the way you look in my shirt,” he said. “I love the way you look out of my shirt.”

“I think we have a little time,” she said.

He swooped her up into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him, and bore her gently to the bed.

T
he morning air was cool and foggy as Mel drove to her cabin. The front door was open, letting in the crisp June morning air. She kicked off her muddy boots on the porch and when she went inside found Joey sitting on the sofa, a quilt wrapped around her, a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee on the table beside her.

Joey lifted a side of the quilt for Mel and Mel went to her, cuddling beside her, resting her head on Joey’s shoulder. Joey pulled the quilt snugly around them both. “You okay, baby sis?” Joey asked.

“I’m okay. I lost it last night.” She turned her head and looked up at her older sister. “Why didn’t I see that coming? You did.”

“The anniversary of deaths has a reputation,” she said. “Even if you don’t remember the exact date—it’ll sneak up on you and knock the wind out of you.”

“It sure did,” she said, lying her head back down on Joey’s shoulder. “I knew what day it was. I just didn’t expect such a dramatic event.”

Joey stroked Mel’s hair. “You weren’t alone, at least.”

“You just wouldn’t have believed it, even if you’d seen it. I was completely out of control, standing in the rain, screaming. I screamed for a long time. He just held me and let me. He kept telling me to let it out. Then he took care of me like you would a stroke victim. Undressed me, got me into dry clothes, gave me a brandy and put me to bed.”

“I think Jack must be a very good man…”

“Then I invited him into bed with me,” Mel said. Joey said nothing. “We made love all night long. I’ve never had so much sex in my life. I mean—never.”

“But you’re all right,” she said, and it was not a question.

“When I lifted the blanket for him, all I could think was, this will numb me. Rub out the pain, give me escape.”

“It’s okay, sweetie.”

Mel looked at Joey again. “It didn’t exactly work that way,” she said. “Maybe if he’d been average, I could’ve closed my eyes and just gone to a happy place. But he’s not average. Holy shit, he’s astonishing.”

Joey laughed a little, sentimentally. Sisters. They had talked about sex since they were teenagers. Laughed about it, told dark secrets about it. With Mark’s death, Joey had feared these kind of talks would never happen again.

“All he wanted was for me to have pleasure. Wild, blinding, crazed pleasure.”

Again Joey laughed. “Did it work?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said in a breath. Then she turned and looked at her sister. “Do you think he just felt sorry for me?”

“Well, you were there. Do you think that?”

Mel smiled. “I don’t care,” she said. “I just hope he feels sorry for me again, real soon.”

Joey smoothed the curly hair away from her sister’s pretty brow. “I’m glad you have this in your life again.” And then she giggled, and so did Mel.

“How did this happen, Joey? That I went from wanting to die, to wanting Jack? Wanting him so much I was almost a maniac? Wouldn’t you think that would be impossible? That I wouldn’t be able to even think like that?”

Joey took a breath. “I think when your emotions reach a pitch like that, it follows suit. You just feel everything more intensely. I think it makes stupid sense, actually. Haven’t you ever noticed that some of the best sex seems to follow a big fight? I’m pretty sure I conceived Ashley on the same night I told Bill that if I didn’t just leave him, I’d at least never speak to him again.”

Giggles.

“I haven’t even asked you how long you can stay,” Mel said.

“I can stay as long as you want me to, but a truly kind sister would pack up and get out of your hair right now.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve missed you so much.” She smiled. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.”

Joey hugged her close. “A few days, then. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Mel?”

“Huh?”

Joey revisited a topic from their earliest discussions on this subject, reaching back to their high-school and college days. “Do you think there’s any truth to that old wives’ tale that you can tell from the size of a man’s foot?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So. What size boot do you think Jack wears?”

Giggles.

“Twenty-seven,” Mel said.

Mel took Joey with her to Doc’s that very morning. Joey cozied up in the kitchen with a book while Mel and Doc saw a few patients. The three of them had lunch together at the house, then the girls went to Grace Valley where they visited June and John at the clinic. There were no patients scheduled for the next day and Doc wore his pager while he went to the river to fish, so Joey and Mel drove all the way to the coast, having lunch in the adorable little Victorian town of Ferndale.

They visited the shops—there were things that Joey thought would be perfect for Mel’s cabin—a throw for the sofa, some accent pillows, a wall clock, colorful place mats. They stopped off and bought a small barbecue for the yard and wooden salad bowls. A vase that would complement the table. On the way home they went to the market and bought some groceries and fresh flowers.

It seemed like a quick beer at Jack’s was in order and they went into the bar arm in arm, laughing because Mel had whispered, “If I catch you looking at his crotch, I will slap you.” Which almost guaranteed Joey was going to find the temptation irresistible. Then they invited him to come out to the cabin for dinner, and he not only eagerly accepted, he brought a six-pack.

They told stories from their childhood and teenage years that had him laughing right along with them till almost midnight.

When Jack was getting ready to leave, Joey slipped
discreetly away so Mel could say good night to him in private. Outside, on the porch, with only the filtered light from inside the cabin, Jack stepped down a step so that he could be eye-to-eye with Mel. She draped her arms over his shoulders while he encircled her waist with his large hands. She leaned toward him and teasingly nibbled at his lower lip.

“You told her everything,” he said.

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head.

“She keeps looking at my crotch,” he said.

Giggles. “Not everything,” she said. “I kept the more delicious stuff to myself.”

“Have you been all right?” he asked, drawing his brows together in concern. “Any more tears?”

“Completely all right.” She smiled.

“I miss you already, Mel.”

“It’s only been a couple of days…”

“I missed you after a couple of hours.”

“You’re going to be a lot of trouble, aren’t you? Demanding, imposing, insatiable…”

He covered her mouth in a searing kiss that answered the question. She yielded happily, holding him closely. Ah, she thought. This is such a wonderful, powerful, sexy man. She never wanted it to end, but at length it had to. “I have to go,” he said in a husky voice. “Either that, or carry you into the woods.”

“You know, Sheridan… This place is growing on me.”

He gave her a little peck on the lips. “Your sister is great, Mel.” He gave her another. “Get rid of her,” he said. Then with a whack on the butt, he turned and left her.

When he got to his truck and opened his door, he
turned to look at her. He stood there for a long time. Then he slowly lifted his hand. And she did the same.

Jack was sweeping off the porch at the bar the next morning when he saw Joey and Mel walk out of Doc’s house and embrace at Joey’s car. Then Mel walked back inside and to his surprise, Joey came over to the bar.

“I’m going to shove off,” she said to him. “I thought I’d beg a cup of coffee from you on my way out of town. Mel has a couple of patients this morning, or she’d have come with me. So we said our goodbyes.”

“I’d be glad to buy you breakfast,” he said.

“Thanks, I’ve had a little something already. But I’m not going to pass up your coffee. And I wanted a moment. To talk. To say goodbye.”

“Coming up,” he said. He leaned the broom against the wall and held the door for her. She jumped up on a stool and he went behind the bar to serve her coffee. “It was great meeting you, Joey. And spending a little time.”

“Thanks. You, too. But mostly, thanks for what you’ve done for Mel. For taking care of her, looking out for her…”

He poured himself a mug. “I think you know—you don’t have to thank me. I’m not doing anybody any favors.”

“I know. Still… Just so you know, it’s easier for me to leave her here, knowing that she isn’t all alone.”

It was on his mind to tell her that he hadn’t felt like this since he was sixteen. All steamed up, crazy in love, willing to take a lot of chances for just one chance. But what he said was, “She won’t be alone. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

She sipped her coffee. She seemed to struggle with something. “Jack, there’s something you should keep in mind. Just because the crisis seems to have passed doesn’t mean… Well, there could still be some struggles ahead for her.”

“Tell me about him,” Jack said.

Joey was startled. “Why?”

“Because it might be a long time before I can ask Mel. And because I’d like to know.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, you have every right to ask. I’ll do my best. But the only thing that allows the rest of us to hold it together as well as we do is because Mel has been so fragile. It
was
like losing a brother. It
was
losing a brother. We all loved Mark.”

“He must have been one helluva guy.”

“You have no idea.” She sipped more of her coffee. “Let’s see—Mark was thirty-eight when he died, so that made him thirty-two when he met Mel. They met at the hospital. He was the senior resident in the emergency room and she was charge nurse on the swing shift. They fell in love right away, moved in together a year later, married a year after that and had been married four years. I think the most characteristic things about Mark were his compassion and sense of humor. He could make anyone laugh.

“And he was the one doctor you wanted in Emergency when there was a crisis that required the family be handled with kindness, with sensitivity. Our whole family loved him right off. His entire staff adored him.”

Jack didn’t realize that he chewed absently on his lower lip.

“It’s hard to remember that he wasn’t perfect,” she said.

“You’d be doing a guy a big favor by telling me one or two things that made him less than perfect,” he said.

She laughed at him. “Well, let’s see. He clearly loved Mel very much and he was a good husband, but she used to say that his first wife was the E.R. It’s that way with doctors anyway, and I don’t think it was much more than an irritation—she was a nurse and knew the score. But they fought about his long hours, about him going into the hospital even when he wasn’t on call. There were lots of times they had plans and he didn’t show up. Or he’d leave early and she’d take a cab home.”

“But that’s how it is,” Jack said. Marines left their families behind to do the country’s work abroad. While a part of him wished that Mel had hated her husband for frequently abandoning her for work, there was another part that held a grudging respect for a woman who knew the ways of the world and held strong through them.

“Yeah. I don’t think it threatened their marriage, not really. He’d get absorbed in his work and miss entire conversations. She said she sometimes thought she was talking to a wall. But of course, Mark being Mark, he’d apologize and try to make it up to her. I’m sure if he hadn’t died, they’d have stayed married for fifty years.”

“Come on, Joey,” he said. “Didn’t he drink too much, smack her around, cheat on her?” he asked hopefully. So hopefully that it made Joey laugh.

She dug around in her purse, pulled out her wallet and flipped through the pictures until she came to one of Mel and Mark. “This was taken about a year before he died,” she said.

It was a studio portrait, husband and wife. Mark had his arm around her and they were both smiling—
carefree. Her eyes twinkled; so did his. A doctor and a nurse midwife—brilliant, successful people—they had the world by the balls. Mark’s face was familiar to Jack, having seen the picture beside her bed. But he looked at this with new eyes, knowing what he knew. Mark was not bad looking—and this was the only context under which Jack would allow himself to make such an assessment of another man. Short, neat brown hair, oval face, straight teeth. He would have been thirty-seven in the picture, but he looked much younger—he had a baby face. He did not look unlike many of the young marines Jack had taken into battle with him.

“A doctor,” Jack said absently, staring at the picture.

“Hell, don’t be intimidated by that,” Joey said. “Mel could easily have been a doctor. She holds a bachelor’s in nursing and post-grad degree in family nurse practitioner with a certification in midwifery. She’s got a brain bigger than my butt.”

“Yeah,” he said. That Joey’s butt wasn’t big was not the point she was making.

“They had as many arguments as any couple,” Joey said. “Vacations brought out the worst in them—they never wanted to do the same things. If he wanted to golf, she wanted to go to the beach. They usually ended up going somewhere he could golf while she lay on the beach, which might sound like a reasonable compromise, except for one thing—they weren’t spending the vacation together. That used to piss her off,” she added. “And Mel, pissed off, is unbearable.

“And,” Joey went on, “he was lousy with money. Paid absolutely no attention. His focus had been purely on medicine for so long, he’d forget to pay bills. Mel took over that job right away to keep the lights from
being turned off. And he was pretty anal about tidiness—I’d eat off the floor of his garage in a second.”

Such urban, upper-class problems, Jack found himself thinking.

“Not an outdoorsman, I guess,” Jack said. “No camping?”

“Shit in the woods?” she laughed. “Not our man, Mark.”

“Funny that Mel would come here,” he said. “It’s rugged country. Not too refined. Never fancy.”

“Um, yeah,” Joey said, looking into her coffee cup. “She loves the mountains, loves nature—but Jack, you need to know something…this was an experiment. She was a little crazy and decided she wanted everything different. But it isn’t her. Before Mark died, she must have had subscriptions to a dozen fashion and decorating magazines. She loves to travel—first class. She knows the names of at least twenty five-star chefs.” She took a breath and looked into his kind eyes. “She might have a fishing pole in her trunk right now, but she’s not going to stay here.”