22
" She saw a side of him she didn’t know existed. This gentle, tender giant was gripped with fury, and it was a silent and impressive fury. He held her through the night, both of them in one small hospital bed. Sleep was difficult for her and she was fitful, but every time she opened her eyes and looked at him, she found him awake, watching over her. She would look up at his face, his tense jaw and eyes narrowed in anger, but when she put her hand against his cheek, he would relax his features and turn soft eyes on her. “It’s all right, baby,” he said. “Try to get some sleep. Don’t be afraid.” “I’m not afraid while I’m with you,” she whispered, and this was the truth. The "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
25
" She felt that hand that had been on her hip slide stealthily around her, holding her at her waist, pulling her just slightly back against him. “You’re distracting me,” she said, casting again. “Good,” he said, lowering his lips to her head, inhaling. “Jack, there are people!” “They could care less,” he said, holding her against him. She looked around and saw that what he said was true—the other fishermen didn’t even glance their way. Their lines were flying around in gentle, beautiful arcs. They didn’t even look at each other. Okay, she thought. This feels good. I like the hand, the arm around me. I can manage this. Then she felt his lips on her neck. “Jack! I’m fishing!” “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll try not to bother you too much.” He pulled her just a little harder against him and began to nibble at her neck. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughter in her voice. “Mel, please… Can’t we go somewhere and just make out for a while?” “No!” she laughed. “I’m fishing!” “If I promise to take you fishing after…?” “No! Now behave yourself!” But she was smiling because it was pretty heady having this big tough guy turn weak and desperate just from the taste of her neck. She concentrated on her casting while he concentrated on her neck, his arm tight around her waist. Ahh… Nice. Very nice. After a few more minutes passed, he let go of her with a tortured moan, walked back to his truck and laid himself over the front, arms outstretched wide, head lying on the hood. She looked over her shoulder at him and chuckled. Brought him to his knees, she thought. Big tough marine. Ha! She "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
26
" Let me make you some coffee,” he suggested. “And ruin this perfectly good buzz? Hell, I’ve earned it.” She took a step and wavered. “Besides, I don’t think it’ll make me sober. Probably just wide-awake drunk.” Jack tightened his hold around her and laughed in spite of himself. “All right, Mel. I can put you in my bed and take the couch…” “But sometimes I have deer in my yard in the morning,” she said, a little whiny. “I want to go home. They might come back.” Home. That sounded good to Jack, that she thought of that cabin as her home. “All right, Mel. I’ll take you home.” “That’s a relief,” she said. “Because I’m pretty sure I already can’t drive. Even on a straight and undangerous road.” “You’re a lightweight,” he said. They "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
28
" Something hit him, and it didn’t feel particularly good. He picked up the picture and looked at the man’s face. So, you’re the guy, he thought. He didn’t look like a bad guy—but clearly he had done something to Mel. Something she was having trouble getting beyond. Maybe he’d left her for another woman—but that seemed impossible to imagine. Maybe he left her for a man. Oh, please let it be so—I can make that better—just give me five minutes. Or maybe he looked harmless but had been an impossible asshole and she’d broken off with him, but still loved him helplessly. And here she had his picture right there, to be the last face she saw before falling asleep at night. At some point she was going to give Jack a chance to make that picture go away, but it wasn’t going to be tonight. Probably just as well. If she woke to find him there, either in her bed or ready to be, she would put the blame on Crown Royal. He wanted it to come from desire—and he wanted it to be real. He scribbled a note. I’ll be back for you at 8:00 a.m. Jack. He left it by the coffeepot. Then he went to his truck to get something he’d purchased earlier in the day. He brought the leather case holding the dismantled fly fishing rod and reel and the waders into the house and left them by the front door. And went home. * "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
30
" Mel was fascinated by the way they talked about their women with lusty smiles and glittering eyes. No jokes about the old ball and chain here. Rather, they sounded as though they couldn’t wait to get home to them. “How’s Patti doing?” someone asked Josh. He curved his hands over his flat belly to indicate a pregnant tummy and grinning boastfully, said, “She’s ripe as a tomato. I can hardly keep my hands off her.” “If she’s ripe as a tomato, I bet you get slapped down like crazy,” Zeke laughed. “I got another one on Christa.” “No way! I thought she said you were through!” “She said that two kids ago—but I snuck one more by her. She’s cooking number four. What can I say—that girl’s been lightin’ my fire since high school. You should see her, man. She’s lit up like a beacon. Nobody cooks ’em like Christa. Whew.” “Hey, buddy, congratulations, man! But I don’t think you know when to quit.” “I don’t. It’s like I can’t quit. But Christa says she’s all done with me. She said after this one, snip snip.” “I think I can go one more,” Corny said. “Got my girls. I feel a boy coming on.” No one could better appreciate this kind of enthusiasm for pregnant women than a midwife. Mel was loving it. Loving them. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot,” Jack said. “Eight nieces later, no one got their boy. My brothers-in-law have run through all their chances, I think.” “Maybe you’re packin’ a boy, Jack.” “I don’t even kid myself about that,” he laughed. Jack "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
31
" He put his hands on her waist. “Kiss me,” he said. “No,” she said. “Come on. Haven’t I been perfect? Haven’t I followed all your rules? How can you be so selfish? There’s no one around—they’re busy drinking.” “I think you should go back to your reunion,” she said, but she laughed at him again. Boldly, he picked her up under her arms and lifted her high, holding her above him, slowly lowering her mouth to his. “You’re shameless,” she told him. “Kiss me,” he begged. “Come on. Gimme a little taste.” It was simply irresistible. He was irresistible. She grabbed his head in her hands and met his lips. She opened hers, moving over his mouth. When he did this to her, she thought of nothing but the kiss. It consumed her deliciously. She allowed his tongue, he allowed hers, and she reached that moment when she wanted it to never end. It was so easy to become lost in his tenderness, his strength. And then, inevitably, it had to end. They were standing in the street, after all, though it was almost dark. “Thank you,” he said. He put her on her feet and behind them, a raucous cheer erupted. There, on the porch at Jack’s, stood eight marines and Rick, their tankards raised, shouting, cheering, whistling, cat-calling. “Oh, brother,” she said. “I’m going to kill them.” “Is this some kind of marine tradition?” she asked him. “I’m going to kill them,” he said again, but he kept his arm around her shoulders. “You realize what this means,” she said. “These little kisses are no longer our little secret.” He looked down into her eyes. The shouts had subsided into a low rumble of laughter. “Mel, they are not little. And since it’s leaked,” he said, grabbing her up in his arms, lifting her up to him again, her feet clear of the ground, and planted another one on her, to the excited shouts of the old 192nd. Even with that riot in the background, she found herself responding. She was growing addicted to the perfect flavor of his mouth. When it was done she said, “I knew it was a mistake to let you get to first base.” “Ha, I haven’t even thrown out the first pitch yet. You’re invited to go fishing with us, if you like.” “Thanks, but I have things to do. I’ll see you tomorrow night for a beer. And I’ll get myself to my car. I’m not going to make out in front of them for the next week.” * "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
33
" Jack had known from the beginning that Mark was still there, in her life, in her heart. He would never have all of her. Well, then, he’d make the most of what he did have. He wasn’t going to make her grovel; he was just going to love the heck out of her. He could manage this, even if it wasn’t the most ideal situation. In time, maybe she’d come around. Mark’s memory could fade enough so that even if Jack wasn’t the only man in her life, he would come to feel like the most important one. Maybe when she held their child, she would realize life was for the living. He "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
34
" Somewhere in the night, sounds came from Jack’s bed. He was fitful, rolling around, muttering in his sleep. Mel went to the bed, sat on the edge and touched his brow. He grumbled something unintelligible and curled toward her, grabbing her and pulling her into the bed. He rested his head against her. She took his head in the crook of her arm and lay down beside him. “It’s okay,” she said to him. And he quieted at once, draping an arm over her. She pulled the comforter over them both and snuggled up to him. She sniffed the pillow—Downy. Who was this guy? she found herself asking. Looks like Paul Bunyan, runs a bar, has all these guns, and cleans and launders like Martha Stewart. In his sleep, he pulled her closer. His breath smelled of Scotch. Whew, she thought. She put her face against his hair, which smelled of his musk combined with the wind and trees. She inhaled deeply; she’d already begun to love his particular scent and the taste of his mouth. She had wondered what was under the shirt—a nice mat of brown hair on his chest and a couple of tattoos. On his upper left arm an eagle, globe and anchor, almost as big as her hand. On the upper right, over a ribbon, the words: SAEPE EXPERTUS, SEMPER FIDELIS, FRATRES AETERNI She "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
35
" Jack,” she said, snuggled up against him. “I hate that I hurt you.” He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the sweet scent. “Let’s not talk about that anymore. It’s behind us. We have a lot in front of us.” “Would it be a good idea for me to go to Joey for a little while? Give you some space? Try to get my head together?” He rose over her and looked into her eyes. “Don’t, Mel. Don’t run just because we hit a rough patch. We’ll work through this.” “You sure?” “Mel,” he said hoarsely, his voice a mere whisper, “you have my baby inside you. I have to be a part of that. Come on…” She fought the tears that threatened. “I know it must be hard to deal with an emotional basket case like me.” He smiled at her and said, “I’ve heard that pregnant women get like that.” “I think I’m just like that, period.” “Marry me,” he said. She touched his beautiful face. “You don’t have to.” “Melinda, six months ago we were two people without attachments. Two people who had accepted we would never have any—and that we’d never have families. Now we have it all. We have each other and a baby. A baby we both want. Let’s not screw this up.” “Are you sure?” “I’ve never been more sure about anything. I want this. If you can’t stay here, I’ll go anywhere you want to go.” “But Jack, you love it here!” “Don’t you realize I love you more? I need you in my life. You and our baby. God, Mel—I don’t care where that happens. As long as it happens.” “Jack,” she said in a whisper. “What if you change your mind? What if something happens? You have to remember, I never thought anything terrible would happen to—” He put a finger on her lips, stopping her. He didn’t want to hear his name. Not now. “Shh,” he said. “I want you to trust me. You know you’re safe with me.” * "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
36
" He frowned and reached out, lifting a lock of her hair off her shoulder. “Do you have mud in your hair?” “Probably,” she said. “I was standing on the porch, appreciating the beauty of this nice spring morning when one end gave way and spilled me right into a big, nasty mud puddle. And I wasn’t brave enough to try out the shower—it’s beyond filthy. But I thought I got it all off.” “Oh, man,” he said, surprising her with a big laugh. “Could you have had a worse day? If you’d like, I have a shower in my quarters—clean as a whistle.” He grinned again. “Towels even smell like Downy.” “Thanks, but I think I’ll just move on. When I get closer to the coast, I’m going to get a hotel room and have a quiet, warm, clean evening. Maybe rent a movie.” “Sounds nice,” he said. “Then back to Los Angeles?” She shrugged. “No,” she said. She couldn’t do that. Everything from the hospital to the house would conjure sweet memories and bring her grief to the surface. She just couldn’t move on as long as she stayed in L.A. Besides, now there was nothing there for her anymore. "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
37
" 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. "
― Robyn Carr , Virgin River (Virgin River, #1)
