Harvest Moon (Virgin River #15)(51)

A long space of time had passed when Lief said, “Oh. My. God.”

Kelly pulled on his rear end harder, keeping him right where he was. “That’s good news,” she said. “I don’t think it was my fault.”

He pulled back a bit. “That was incredible. That lasted an hour, right?”

She laughed. “Don’t look at the clock,” she warned him.

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, better than all right. In fact, better than I’ve ever been before…”

“I hope we’re still alone in the house,” he said. “I think you screamed…”

“That was you!”

“No wonder it sounded so loud,” he said. “If I stay right here, right inside you like this, I’ll be ready again in just a few minutes.”

“Twenty minutes,” she said. “I read it somewhere.”

“Does complete sexual satisfaction make you laugh?” he asked, smoothing the hair away from her face.

“Apparently.”

“Can I stay with you for a while?” he asked.

“Yes. Stay just like this until I say you can leave.”

“I want to stay all night.”

“Then no more screaming,” she told him. Then she laughed.

“Really, I bet that was you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I just know that if there’s screaming in the middle of the night, I don’t want anyone from the second floor to break in to save us.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing her nose. “I didn’t think it could happen, but it happened so fast it almost knocked me out.”

Her laughter stopped, and she grew serious. “I love you, too,” she said. “I hope we don’t screw this up. I mean, there’s a lot at stake.”

“A lot,” he agreed. “Because I want to make a life with you, and I don’t want to ask you to make big sacrifices in order to do that. I want to make you happy.”

And it came to her that fast, all the things that stood between them and happily ever after. Could she be happy canning sauces made from Nana’s recipe folder? Would Courtney cut them some slack or prove to be a constant challenge? Could she make it in Virgin River? Because as she lay in his arms, all she wanted in the world was this man, this quiet place in the mountains and a little peace of mind.

She smiled at him. “We’re going to worry about this later,” she said. “Because right now I’m naked, happy, and in no mood to overthink anything.”

“Good plan,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “It must have been twenty minutes…” He moved his hips; he moved inside her.

“Not even close,” she told him.

“Close enough,” he said, rocking inside her, filling her again.

Kelly wanted the night with her man to never end. She learned that he could be so many things—slow and deliberate, a little wild and crazy, playful, serious. Not only did he touch every part of her body, he touched her heart. Her emotions.

After about three hours in bed, they shared a shower and went back to bed, lying quietly and close, talking. Sometime around eleven they heard distant voices downstairs and finally the closing of Jill and Colin’s bedroom door. Just after midnight Kelly and Lief dressed, or mostly dressed. Lief pulled on his jeans and socks, leaving his shirt open, and Kelly wore leggings and an extra-long sweater. They crept downstairs to the kitchen. Lief lit candles on the table, and Kelly pulled out the uneaten dessert—her best tiramisu. They sat at the table, their chairs facing. Lief pulled her legs over his thighs, and in the candlelight, they fed each other bites of tiramisu. There were still embers in the hearth from hours ago, and they could see the starlight in the clear November sky on the horizon over the trees.

“Do you miss the city?” he asked her.

“Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “Especially when I look at that sky. The last couple of days I spent there, I realized I hated my apartment and my job. I love San Francisco, but I can go back there anytime. For a visit, at least. Do you? Miss the city?”

He shook his head. “I was always a little out of place there. I’m more comfortable in a place like this. I’m happier around fields, streams and trees than freeways and high-rises.”

“But your work…”

“There are people in L.A. I have to work with from time to time, the agents, producers, etcetera. But I can write anywhere.”

“Are you working at all?” she asked him.

“Barely. I’ve been sketching, outlining, making notes. It’s not much of anything. The hardest work I do looks like fishing. Typing isn’t the hard part, it’s thinking.” He fed her another bite. “I want to spend every minute with you,” he said. “And I can’t.”

“I know.”

“I have to move slowly with Courtney… I have to set an example. I don’t want her to get the impression it’s all right for her to have wild sex whenever she feels like it.”

“But it’s all right for you?” she teased.

“It’s actually healthy for me,” he said with a smile. “And when she’s forty-two, she can do anything she wants. But right now, one day at a time.”

“If you aren’t careful, she’s going to wear black lipstick and dye her hair seven different colors…”