My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(75)

“He was.”

“Before you go, I want you to know you’ve been that kind of friend to me,” she said. “I came up here to get away, struggling to know myself better, working on where I’d go next, trying so damn hard to change. And you encouraged me every step of the way.”

“Ange, you had all that, you were all that without me around—it was just time....”

She shook her head. “With you on my team I felt so much was possible. You backed me in everything. You’re a wonderful partner. Paddy, you showed me a whole new world. I’ll never settle again.”

“Never, ever settle, babe,” he said. “You’re too good.”

“If Jake meant as much to you, I can sure understand why you have to head to Oklahoma. If you owe him as much as I feel I owe you, you’re doing the right thing.”

He shook his head. “And here I thought I’d have to prop you up.”

“Nah, I’m not sorry. This has been the most wonderful month of my life.”

And now Patrick owed her. You hardly ever run into the kind of person who can really hold you in an open hand, never threatened or competitive, always loving you enough to want you to have everything you’ve imagined possible. Angie, only twenty-three, had that down. She was all selfless love. She was going to leave her mark and the world would be a better place for it.

“I want you to know…letting you go to do what I have to do—I haven’t faced anything harder,” he told her.

“You’re strong, Paddy,” she said. “Just believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”

He held her through the night. When he found he couldn’t sleep, he just inhaled her scent and told himself he’d rest later when he couldn’t savor the moment anymore. He’d sleep when she was out of his reach. But this time they had left, he wasn’t about to waste it.

In the wee hours before dawn, he slipped out of bed, dressed quietly and went back to her. He kissed her sleeping eyes. Without opening them, without looking at him, she said, “Just kiss me, tell me you love me and go.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, slid his arms under her, lifted her against him and covered her mouth in a powerful, deep, emotional kiss. She didn’t open her eyes; she didn’t choke on a sob. “I love you,” he said against her lips.

Her small tongue licked in his taste. “And I love you.”

* * *

Patrick had plenty of time before he needed to be at the Redding airport. He could even swing through his cabin for a shower and change of clothes, grab his duffel and, if he felt like it, stop somewhere for breakfast. Even with time on his side, he moved as if through quicksand.

It felt as if there was now a second person he’d had to permanently give up. First Jake, then the person who was best able to get him beyond Jake: Angie. Sometimes life really threw a lot of rotten apples.

He brewed his last pot of coffee in Aiden’s cabin while he showered. After dressing, he stuffed yesterday’s clothes in his duffel and tossed it by the door. Then he sat by the now-cold hearth and drank a cup.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d shown him more support, understanding and encouragement in a few weeks than Leigh had delivered in as many years. How was that possible? He kept asking himself if Angie simply turned him on, making him think all these things when really it was just about lust. But what came to mind was the way she held him after a nightmare, while Leigh had never even called after Jake’s death. He thought about reaching into Angie’s hair and finding a bald spot and hearing her say, “Shunt.” He remembered seeing her in those scrubs and booties after Megan’s surgery. It went very well—she’s waking up now. And when the Riordans and Sheridans gathered at the bar and the stories began she laughed until tears were running down her cheeks. She had leaned over and whispered to him, I think I might’ve wet my pants.

He’d never had anyone in his life like her. Never would again. He felt inside the way Jake would act when they were getting back from a deployment—like an animal, insane for his woman.

His coffee was cold. He looked at his watch—he’d been sitting there just thinking about her for a long time.

He looked at the ceiling. “Crap. Buddy, I’m sorry,” he said aloud.

Then he went for the phone.

“Marie, sweetheart, I’m going to miss my plane. I’m really sorry.”

“Not a problem, Paddy,” she said. “There will be other times, other planes.”

“That’s the thing, Marie—I’m actually not going to make it for Christmas. I got caught up in something. I know I’d promised to be there, but—”

She laughed. “Paddy, I got so tired of trying to convince you this wasn’t the place for you to spend Christmas, I stopped trying. You just don’t take a hint!”

He was stunned. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“I will always love you, Paddy. You’re one of my dearest friends. And if you ever need me—call me.”

“I wanted to be there for you,” he said. “I promised Jake.”

“And you have been there. You stood by my side while we eulogized him. You held Daniel while I received the flag. You came to Oklahoma to be sure I was okay. You call almost every day to see how I’m doing. What more could you have done?”