104
" A large fish jumped across the river and they were silent; he was huge. “King,” Rick finally said. “I haven’t seen one that size in a long time.” “He must be lost,” Jack said, casting in that direction. Rick took a few paces downstream, changed out his fly and threw a line. They played with him a while, then Rick hooked him and yelled, “Woo-hoo!” “Lead him, let him take out line, tire him out before you—” Rick laughed. “I know how to catch a fish.” “Don’t screw around, get too anxious and lose him,” Jack said. “You milking this cow?” Ricky asked him. For the better part of an hour Rick played him, letting out line, letting him run, pulling him back, walking up and down in the shallow part of the river when the fish ran, and all the while he had Jack in his ear. “That son of a bitch is big. Let out more line. Don’t spoil him, he’s a fighter. He’s getting too far from your control, reel him back.” And on and on and on. Rick finally brought him in, a great big Chinook, over thirty pounds. And that was more than enough fishing; Rick’s ears were ringing from Jack’s mother-henning. When they got back to the bar, Preacher whistled in admiration and loaded the fish on the scale. “Thirty-seven point four. You catch him all by yourself, Rick?” Rick made a face at Jack. “Not exactly.” * "
― Robyn Carr , Second Chance Pass (Virgin River, #5)
105
" Jack leaned in the window to kiss her and Joe was overcome with longing. This was torture, watching his best friends, his brothers, with their women. By the end of a hunt, they were talking about getting home to their beautiful, lush, ripe women, bringing them children and love. Joe hadn’t been so worried about the fact that he hadn’t found this yet until recently, until he held a woman that made him feel that full, that in love, and immediately lost her. * "
― Robyn Carr , Second Chance Pass (Virgin River, #5)
107
" The trepidation that had kept him from speaking up earlier, that had once kept him from approaching her from across a crowded bar and sitting down beside her a few years ago, was gone. He was possessive, sure of himself, serene. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, constantly reaching for her, touching her knee, circling her shoulders with his arm. He’d been inside her body, made her tremble with pleasure and beg for more, branded her, made her his. She didn’t scare him anymore. When "
― Robyn Carr , Second Chance Pass (Virgin River, #5)
