Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(43)

He shook his head and nuzzled her neck. “You had boyfriends,” he said.

“No,” she corrected. “I hardly even went out. Then I met what’s-his-name about a year ago.”

“And you came up here?” Denny asked. “I guess, I don’t get that part….”

She gave a little huff of laughter. “More about all that when we’re not all hooked up like this. I don’t want anyone else in either of our heads.” She ran her fingers over his beard-roughened cheek. “If we’re going to try this again, you and me, we have to be more honest this time. About everything.”

“Oh, we’re going to try again,” he said. “And this time we’re going to get it right. I can’t let you go now. And we’re going to be more honest, but later.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Then he moved his h*ps a little, growing inside her, filling her. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then the other corner, then her neck, then her breast. Then in a slightly desperate whisper, he said, “Please, tell me we can talk later….”

She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple. When she let out her breath, all that came with it was her whisper. “Later works.”

They only dozed through the night, their hands and lips rarely caught in slumber. When Denny wasn’t making love to her, he was holding her close, whispering to her how much he loved her, wanted her, needed her in his life. Becca’s deepest sleep came right before waking in the morning and it was in some surprise she found Denny sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed, gently pushing her hair away from her face.

She opened her eyes slowly, yawned and purred.

“Tired, baby?” he asked.

“A little tired, but not sorry. I can sleep anytime.”

His laugh was low and deep. He kissed her again. “I made you some coffee.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“It’s Monday morning and I have a job. It’s probably a good thing, too—if I could stay in bed with you for a few days, I’d wear you out. But, after a week of having company and not spending any time at the farm, some of my work has piled up. Instead of staying out there for lunch, I’ll meet you at Jack’s. How’s that?”

“That’s perfect,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’ve never felt better,” he said with a smile. “About a week of this and I still won’t be tired. But I might be dead.” He grinned at her. “There’s one thing you can tell me before I go, just to give me a little reassurance. Are you still on the pill?”

She nodded. “You’re safe.”

“I wouldn’t mind, you know. But it’s probably not a good idea to get ourselves knocked up,” he teased. Then he grew serious. “Becca, is your leg okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m just fine. I go back to the doctor on Friday. I’m sure he’ll release me to travel.” A look crossed Denny’s face immediately and she interpreted it correctly. She put a hand over his. “That doesn’t mean I have to pack up and go, Denny. I don’t have a job waiting and I don’t think I’m going to have much luck finding one while I’m on crutches. There’s time.”

He smiled at that and gave her yet another kiss. “God, I hate to leave you.”

She laughed at him. “I guess this is why there are honeymoons. Go to work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Becca was tired enough to have slept, but she couldn’t. There was something she knew she’d better do—call her mother. She might have said she’d call in a couple of days, but she had nearly hung up on her mother twice. She couldn’t let this fester. She might not always agree with her mother, but she loved her. She brought a cup of coffee to the bedside table, plugged in the phone and dialed.

“Hi, Mom,” she said. “I don’t want hard feelings between us. Especially over a guy.”

“Or guys,” Beverly said.

“You’re still angry with me,” Becca said.

Beverly sighed deeply. “I’m disappointed. I’m afraid you’ve made a decision based purely on romance, or the idea of romance, when you should be thinking long term. Practically. Because romance doesn’t last.”

“Please don’t be afraid, Mom. Honestly, I had so many doubts about Doug, I ran for my life. I admire some of the things he’s doing with his life, but I don’t love him. And no matter how much sense it might make to you, I am not marrying a man I don’t love.”

Beverly sighed again. “Of course you shouldn’t,” she relented. “I just never saw a hint of this reaction from you. Not in a year. It came as a shock.”

“I love you, Mom, but please trust me to know what’s best for me. Think of it this way—if I screw up, at least it will be my screwup and not a mistake based on your advice.”

In spite of herself, Beverly laughed. “Well, there’s that. But can I just say this, Becca? Either way, based on my advice or your own instincts, all I ever wanted was your happiness. Please believe that.”

“Thank you, Mom. That means a lot to me.”

“I do wish your instincts matched my best advice a little better.”

Becca laughed.

When Becca got to the bar for lunch, a glance around told her Denny wasn’t there yet. She took her place up at the bar in front of a smiling Jack.