Angel's Peak (Virgin River #10)(82)

“I’d like that,” she said.

“How attached are you to that condo in Phoenix?” he asked.

“It’s perfect for me,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t have to cut grass or shovel snow.”

“But do you like it?”

“Sure. Do you like where you’re living?”

“It’s been a good home for over twenty years, but I’m thinking ahead. Mary’s grown kids have moved away and they’re really my only family besides Noah. I don’t believe I’m going to stay in that house in Seattle much longer. Or at the university, either. I’m ready for the next step. A more portable lifestyle—more freedom and travel.”

She smiled and said, “Maybe you’ll visit Phoenix.”

“Maybe I will. You’ll let me have your guest room, won’t you?”

She grinned and shook her head. “The complex has some guest apartments we can reserve for out-of-town company.”

He lifted a brow and said, “You’re not afraid to be alone with me, Maureen.”

“Not at all, but I won’t have the gossip.”

“You would have made a fantastic nun,” he told her. And then he laughed.

But she let him kiss her. Small, affectionate kisses—that was enough. But something she was completely unprepared for was beginning to happen for her. Bringing George into her life was not simply about practicality or companionship at all, but more about the little tremors that vibrated inside her when he was near, when he touched her ever so briefly, when he brushed his lips against hers. She had no idea that a woman in her sixties could feel like a teenager.

She kept remembering what Vivian had said about mature love—that it was slower, sweeter, more tender and very fulfilling. Such thoughts made her shiver.

She had yet another long lunch with George planned for today. They were making the most of their time together before Aiden appeared for Thanksgiving week and Maureen concentrated on family again. When she heard the blast of a horn in front of Vivian’s house, she was astonished. She went to the window thinking that it couldn’t be George honking for her. He was, above all else, a gentleman. He was debonaire.

But there, sitting in front of the house, was Noah’s old RV, and George was standing outside the door. Her mouth slightly open, she wandered out of the house.

“George, what’s this?”

“What I really want to do is take you for another picnic, this time on the coast by the ocean, but it would be torture in this cold wind. So I volunteered to take Noah’s RV for its weekly housekeeping—empty the lavs, load the potable water, all the stuff that has to be done regularly. He was more than happy to put me on that job since I’ve been using the RV as a hotel room. But I’ll tell you the real reason I wanted to steal the RV—I’m going to take you to the ocean and we’re going to have a picnic. But we’ll sit inside, at the table next to the big window, and be nice and warm and comfy. And alone.”

She grinned and knew it was a girlish smile. “I don’t know if I ought to get into a vehicle that private with you.”

“Well, you can be sure the neighbors won’t talk! Now get your jacket and purse, lock up the house and let’s get going.”

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said. He was in the driver’s seat by the time she got back. She climbed up and inside and sat in the seat beside him. While he drove the big vehicle down the street, she turned in her seat and craned her neck to take in the interior. “That’s a cute little kitchen,” she said. “What did you make us for lunch?”

“Takeout,” he said. “I don’t want to waste my time preparing food. How does it feel? Riding up here?”

She looked out. “I like it. It’s wonderful being high. I’ve been frustrated by all the big cars on the road. Big SUVs, trucks, vans and such. I’ve always hated being behind them and blind to what’s going on up the road. This is nice.”

“Not only is there a bathroom, kitchen, washer and dryer, master bedroom and living room, but a satellite for TV and radio reception, and storage underneath. And this is an old RV. I’m not much of a mechanic, so I hope it runs without any problems.”

“Oh, George, what would we do if it broke down?” she worried.

“Call Noah,” he said. “He’d come with his toolbox. He’s been keeping this thing going for years. It’s kind of nifty, don’t you think?”

“I do,” she said. “Is it hard to maneuver?”

“Not a bit. I could let you try it, if you like.”

“No, thanks.” She laughed. She ran a hand along the console. “But it’s fun, George. I have to hand it to you—you’re always fun.”

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Riordan,” he said. “Thing is, I’ve decided what I’m going to do next. I have to go back to the university, of course. Next semester, I’m cutting back my schedule. I need more freedom. I’m going to transition out, sneak up on retirement. I’m going to get myself one of these!” he exclaimed, smacking the steering wheel. “Mary’s sons are married and have children—they’re great kids, superior stepsons. One lives in Texas, one in Florida. I’m going to put my house on the market and retire by the end of school, just in time to begin traveling. I’m going to see this country one state at a time, and I’m going to drop in on those boys. They both have amazing wives. One has three children, one has two—and even though I’m a stepfather, they call me Papa instead of Grandpa. I’m going to visit them occasionally while I’m traveling, then move on to other sights, then check back in. What do you think of that idea?”