“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.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re a grown-up.”
“It wasn’t like this. This feel casual to you?” he asked her.
“Actually, it feels a little intense.”
“Good,” he said. “Everything about this is different. I hope you understand that.”
“You’re not just sleeping with me?” she asked, teasingly.
“I am sleeping with you,” he said, running his hand over her smooth shoulder and down her arm. He gave her a sweet, short kiss. “It’s not just sex. It’s everything. It’s special.”
She laughed at him. “Are you seeing me?” she teased.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a first for me.”
“So, in some ways, you’re just a virgin from Virgin River.”
“In this, I am.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“This is madness, I want you all the time. I feel like a kid.”
“You don’t act like a kid,” she said.
“Melinda—I have had more erections in the last week than I’ve had in the last decade. Every time you walk by, I have to concentrate on something else. This hasn’t happened to me since I was sixteen, when anything from a beer commercial to a geography assignment could put me in agony. It was almost laughable, if it wasn’t just so ridiculous.”
“Raging hormones,” she said with a laugh. “You are an amazing lover.”
“I’m not doing this alone,” he said. “You’re pretty amazing yourself. Damn, baby. We fit together real nice.”
“Jack—does everyone in town know?”
“They’d be guessing. I haven’t said anything.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you have to.”
“We could try to keep it quiet, if that works better for you. I could manage to not look at you like I’m going to have you for dessert, if that’s what you want.”
“It’s just that…well, you know. I have these issues.”
“I know. I held you through some major issues. And I do understand that it’s going to take more than a little sex to resolve all that.” He grinned. “Good sex.”
“Very good sex.”
“Oh, yeah…” he agreed breathlessly.
“Just so you know. I’m still all screwed up. I don’t want to disappoint you. Jack, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He ran a hand down her body, lightly brushing her soft, warm skin. “Mel, this doesn’t hurt.” He smiled. “It feels real, real good. Don’t worry about me.” He gave her a light kiss. “You want to try to keep this…us…quiet? Private?”
“Think it would work?”
“There’s probably no point in pretending,” he said. “It’s your call.”
“Oh, what the hell,” she said. “It isn’t against the law, is it?”
He leaned over her and kissed her more deeply. “It probably should be.” He kissed her again.
In the early morning as dawn was just beginning to streak through the cabin windows, Jack was stirred awake by the soft sound of slightly off-key humming. He found Mel nestled into the crook of his arm, her breath tickling his chest. She was purring, humming, her lips moving slightly, as though singing. It might’ve troubled him if her expression had been sad or disturbed. But she was smiling. She snuggled closer, throwing a leg over his. And this sleepy little music, contented, drifted out of her.
He could count on one hand the number of times he’d spent the entire night in bed with a woman. And already, he couldn’t imagine waking up alone. He pulled her closer knowing he’d never been happier in his life.
Twelve
Rick called Liz every couple of days, although he wanted to call her seven times a day. His pulse always picked up when he dialed, then the sound of her voice made it race.
“Lizzie, how you doing?” he’d ask.
“I miss you,” she would always say. “You said you’d come over.”
“I’m going to. I’m trying. But with school and work… So, how are…things?”
“I just wish I was there, instead of here.” Then she’d laugh. “Funny, I hated my mother for making me go to Aunt Connie’s, and now I hate her for making me stay here.”
“Don’t hate your mom, Liz. Don’t.”
Then they’d talk for a while, about kids, about school, about Virgin River and Eureka, just mundane stuff. She never volunteered any information about the feared pregnancy.
Rick was dying a million deaths. He was terrified something had gone wrong and she was caught with a baby on that one and only night. But almost worse than that, he wasn’t sure what was happening to him, in his head, in his body. He dreamt about her, wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to smell her hair and kiss her lips. He wanted her breast in one hand, but he also wanted to have her riding beside him in that little truck on the way to and from school, cracking jokes, laughing, holding hands.
This phone call was no different than the others had been. Then she asked, “Why don’t you come to Eureka?”