Virgin River (23 page)

“Rod and reel,” he said.

“Huh?” Joey asked.

“Rod and reel, not a fishing pole. She really likes it.”

“Take care of your heart, Jack. You’re a real nice guy.”

“I’ll be okay, Joey,” he said, smiling. “She’ll be okay, too. That’s the important thing, isn’t it?”

“You’re amazing. Just tell me you understand what I’m telling you. She might have run from that old life, but it’s still inside her somewhere.”

“Sure. Don’t worry. She was good enough to warn me.”

“Hmm,” Joey said. “So, what do you do for vacation?” she asked him.

“I’m on vacation everyday,” he said, smiling.

“Mel said you were in the Marine Corps—what did you do then? When you had leave?”

Well, he wanted to say, if I wasn’t recovering from some wound and we were in country, I’d get drunk with the boys and find a woman. A far cry from flying first-class to the islands to tan on the sandy beach or snorkel in the bay. But he didn’t say that; it was another life. One he left behind. People do that, he thought briefly and hopefully; leave another life behind and move on to something new. Different. “If I had a long leave, I’d visit the family. I have four married sisters in Sacramento and they live for the opportunity to boss me around.”

“How nice for you,” she said with a grin. “Well, you have any more questions? About Mel? Mark?”

He didn’t dare. More information about the sainted Mark might do him in. “No. Thanks.”

“Well, then, I’m going to get going—I have a long drive and a plane to catch.”

She jumped off the stool and he came around the bar. He opened his arms to her and she happily gave him a robust hug. “Thanks again,” she said.

“Thank you,” he returned. “And Joey, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Jack. You don’t have to compete with him, you know.”

He put an arm around her and walked her out onto the porch. “I can’t,” he said simply.

“You don’t have to,” she said again.

He gave her shoulders a final squeeze and watched
as she walked across the street to where her car sat at Doc’s. She gave one last wave as she drove out of town.

Jack couldn’t help but spend way too much time trying to picture Mel’s life as it had been with Mark. He saw an upscale home and expensive cars. Diamonds as birthday gifts and country club memberships. Trips to Europe; to the Caribbean to unwind and relax from the high stress of city medicine. Dinner dances and charity events. The kind of lifestyle that even if Jack could fit into it, he wouldn’t want to.

The upscale life wasn’t alien to him—his sisters lived in that world very well. They and their husbands were educated, successful people; they had grappled with finding the best schools so their girls would be likewise. Donna, the oldest at forty-five, was a college professor, married to a professor. Jeannie, the next at forty-three, was a CPA married to a developer. Then there was Mary, thirty-seven, a commercial airline pilot married to a real estate broker—they were the country clubbers. His baby sister and the most bossy—and his favorite—was Brie, almost thirty, a county D.A. married to a police detective. He was the only one in the family who had gone into the military as an enlisted man—as a mere boy—educated only through high school. And found that what he had a gift for was physical challenge and military strategy.

He wondered if Joey was right, that Mel couldn’t possibly be happy here for long in this dinky little town full of ranchers and blue-collar types, without a five-star chef within three hundred miles. Maybe she was just too classy for this backwoods life. But then an image of the Melinda he’d fallen in love with would float into his mind—she was natural and unspoiled, tough and sassy, uninhibited and passionate, stubborn. Perhaps it was a
premature worry—he’d hardly given her a chance. It was always possible she’d find things here to love.

He didn’t see her all that day. He never left the bar, just in case she came by for a sandwich or cup of coffee, but she didn’t. It wasn’t until almost six that she showed her face. As she walked in, he felt that sensation that had become so common for him lately—desire. One look at her in those tight jeans and he was in agony. It took willpower to keep himself from responding physically.

There were people present—the dinner crowd and about six fishermen from out of town—so she said hello to everyone she knew on her way to the bar. She jumped up on a stool and, smiling, said, “I wouldn’t mind a cold beer.”

“You got it.” He fixed her up a draft. Now this woman, looking like a mere girl really, asking for a beer and not a champagne cocktail, this did not fit the picture he’d had earlier of the country club set, the diamonds, the charity dinner dances. Still, seeing her in a fitted, strapless black dress—he could manage that. It made him smile.

“Something’s funny?” she asked.

“Just happy to see you, Mel. Going to have dinner tonight?”

“No, thanks. We were busier than I thought we’d be all morning, so I fixed Doc and I something to eat at around three. I’m not hungry. I’ll just enjoy this.”

The door opened and Doc Mullins came in. A couple of months ago he’d have sat at the other end of the bar, but no more. He was still as grouchy as he could manage, but he took the stool next to Mel and Jack poured him a short bourbon. “Dinner?” he asked the doctor.

“In a minute,” he answered.

The door opened again and in came Hope. She had finally discarded the rubber boots in favor of tennis shoes—just as muddy. She sat on Mel’s other side. “Oh, good, you’re not eating,” she said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. “Jack?” she asked, requesting her usual Jack Daniel’s.

“Jack coming up, neat,” he said, pouring.

Hope puffed and asked, “So, how’d your sister like your little town?”

“She had a good time, thanks. Though she expressed some concern about the state of my roots.”

“Get that old codger to give you a day off and go over to Garberville or Fortuna and get a do.”

“You have nothing but days off anymore,” Doc grumbled.

“That’s an interesting statement coming from someone who didn’t want any help around here,” Mel teased. Then to Hope she said, “You know big sisters. She just wanted to make sure I hadn’t gotten myself into anything that held the potential for disaster, and now that she’s convinced I’ll live, she can go back to her family with a clear conscience. What have you been doing with yourself, Hope?” Mel asked. “I haven’t seen much of you.”

“Just the garden, from morning till night. I plant and grow, the deer come in and eat it. I need to round up Jack’s marines and get ’em all out there to pee a border around the property.”

Mel sat back. “That works?”

“Hell, yeah. Better than anything.”

“Well, live and learn,” she said. Mel finished her beer. “I’m going home,” she stated flatly, getting off her stool.

Mel was barely out the door when she felt Jack come up behind her. He took her arm and walked with her to her car. Once there she turned to him and said, “Think you can find your way out to that little cabin?”

He leaned down to kiss her and groaned. It was happening to him again. “I’ll be right there,” he said.

“Take your time. Give me a head start so I can wash Hope’s cigarette out of my hair. Go finish serving dinner.”

He lowered his lips to her neck. “I’m going to walk back in there and yell Fire!”

She laughed at him and pulled away. “I’ll see you later,” she said. And got in her car to leave.

Mel drove home knowing that he was starving and wouldn’t be long. He was the most sexually driven man she’d ever known. But there were a couple of things she wanted to do. When she got home, she put her medical bag by the front door and went to the bedroom. She sat on the bed, picked up Mark’s picture and held it. She looked into his kind eyes and mentally said to him, “You know I love you, and I know you understand.” And then she slipped it into the drawer.

Then she went to the shower to freshen up.

Jack went back behind the bar and made sure everyone was taken care of. He brought Doc his dinner, said good night to Hope as she left, then went for Preacher. “It’s thinning out,” he said. “I’m going out to Mel’s,” he added, knowing Preacher would have his tongue cut out before he’d tell anyone. As if anyone needed telling. When Jack and Mel were in the same room, the air warmed up. People glanced at them knowingly. “You can reach me there if you need me. Don’t need me.”

“I’m good,” Preacher said. “Ricky and I can handle things.”

Jack might’ve driven a little too fast down the curving, tree-canopied road, but he was dying for her. He parked and went to the porch, sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs to pull off his boots. Inside, he heard the shower running and called out so he wouldn’t frighten her. “Mel?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called back.

But he was already out of his shirt, his hands on his belt buckle. He left a trail of clothes through the living room to the bathroom. The glass of the shower was steamed and inside was her small naked form in the mist. He slowly opened the door and stood there looking at her in all her glistening beauty. God, she was so perfect. She reached a small, inviting hand in his direction and he stepped in with her.

“You didn’t take your time,” she said against his lips.

“I tried,” he admitted.

“I wanted to freshen up for you.”

He covered her mouth with his, but his hands were all over her, running up and down her smooth, soft back, over her bottom, caressing her breasts, digging into her wet hair, down her neck and over her shoulders, down her arms to entwine his fingers with hers. He trembled, he wanted her so badly. And her hands were on him, running over his chest, around to his back, filling her hands with the hard muscles on his butt, and finally over his flat belly and down to his swollen erection, causing him to say, “Ohhhh… Mel…” before capturing her lips anew.

His fingers wandered lower to examine her, gently
probing. It made him swell with some kind of erotic pride to find that she was slick and as anxious as he. This woman didn’t need much warming up. This mutual need, this had become the best part of his life. He lifted her up. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist and he settled her upon him, entering her slowly, firmly. He turned with her in his arms, bracing a shoulder against the shower wall. Then he began to move her upon him, lifting her up and down. Her sighs became quickened breaths, her legs tightened around him.

Mel hung on to his shoulders and neck, her mouth on his, their tongues hot and desperate as they devoured each other. The sensation of his arms and shoulders at work as he held her caused her blood to boil and she felt her desire rising and rising to a wonderful pitch that soon erupted into bliss.

Jack loved nothing so much as bringing her that crazy moment and feeling her tighten around him. When she cried out, he held her closer, if possible. He reached himself as far inside her as humanly possible and the storm of his own wild climax shook him to his core.

She held on to him, he on to her, while they calmed, their breathing slowly returning to normal. She nibbled at his lip and said, a little breathlessly, “I didn’t know that was even possible. Being with you… It’s an adventure.”

“You do something to me. You drive me out of my mind.”

“Good. You do good work, brainless.” And then she laughed and touched his shoulder. “You have a little bruise…”

“I love that little bruise…”

“Let’s dry off and meet in the bed.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice. But please, don’t move just yet. This part is dicey.” He held her a moment longer and then, carefully and slowly, lifted her up and away from him, setting her down on her feet in the shower. They showered off, dried off. Mel needed a little extra time to dry that golden mane of hers—emerging roots and all. Jack went to the bedroom and sat on the bed. It was gone—the picture. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that only the picture was gone, not the memories. Still, it made him smile to himself. He settled himself in her bed and waited impatiently.

When she came to the bedroom, she reached for the light and he said, “Leave it on, Mel.” Without questioning him, she slid into the bed beside him. Lying on his side, he rose up, his head braced on his hand. “There are a couple of things we should talk about. The other night wasn’t about talking.”

“Oh-oh,” she said, suddenly on edge. “Is this the part where you explain about casual sex and consenting adults?”

“No,” he said. “Not at all. Just details. I want you to know something—there have been…women. You know? Mel, I’m forty. I’ve never been celibate. I always wore a condom. Always. Plus, the marines were ridiculous about medicals, including tests for STDs. But if you’d like me to be tested…”

“I tend to be cautious…”

“Done. And then, we didn’t talk about birth control, and I don’t want to be irresponsible. This comes a little after the fact—I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay,” she said. “I’ve got that covered. But,
if you’re so used to putting on the condom, what happened the other night?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have anything handy, and the only thing on my mind was making sure everything was good. It started out as such a bad night for you and Jesus, I didn’t want you to regret it. I guess I went a little crazy. But I can be prepared in the future. Just say the word.”

“And tonight?” she asked.

“I apologize—in the pocket of those jeans on the living room floor, there’s… Sorry. I was so ready to be with you. I was out of my head, Mel. It doesn’t have to be like that every—”

She put a finger on his lips, smiled and whispered, “I like it like it is. When you’re a little crazy.” She looked up into his eyes. “Ordinarily, I would have thought of the condom, but I guess the state I was in…well. If you’ll just take care of that screening, I’m sure we’ll be all right. Have there been an awful lot of women?”

He made a face. A frown. “More than I like.”

“Any really special ones?” she asked.

“You’re going to think I’m lying. No.”

“What about the woman in Clear River?” she asked.

“Mel, we were only sleeping together. No, not true—I never spent a night. She didn’t come to Virgin River. I never thought I’d be embarrassed about that.”