Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(88)

“We can’t have that,” she laughed. “And really, to be completely honest, that’s not the erection of a twenty-year-old. At least as I recall. Go with forty-year-old.” She smiled and shrugged. “As I recall.”

“Come on,” he said. He put her hand on him. “That’s solid steel, right there.”

“Walt,” she said. “I’m in love with you. It feels like the first time I’ve ever been in love. I don’t want it to go away. I hate being here when you’re there. I can handle little bits, but not long separations. I’m happiest with you.”

“I’m not going to let this happen to us again, honey. I’m not giving you up. And if any of those hotshot movie stars flirts with you, I’m going to shoot him dead.”

She laughed. “Walt, you just sweep me off my feet when you get all tender and talk murder like that.”

“No more crying, honey. I love your smile. I love your smart-ass remarks, your laugh, the way you don’t let me get away with anything. Now, come on, you dry me off and I’ll dry you off and then we’ll go at it like a couple of kids.”

“You’re on.”

Walt had the weekend with Muriel. After dinner, they went back to bed. She put a DVD in her portable player and they watched half a movie before pausing it to make love again. In the night, she woke him for yet another. In the morning, sex was the first thing on his mind.

Muriel took him on a tour of the movie lot on Saturday, introduced him to a few people who were working, showed him her trailer. “You could as easily live here,” he said, impressed. “This is a helluva RV.”

“I know, and there are nights we work late and I just shower and sleep here. But it’s good to get away from all this commotion to decompress. I like that little house.”

“Do all the other actors live in little rented houses?” he asked.

She shook her head. “They all have different needs. A couple stay on the lot, some stay in hotels in Butte or Missoula. A lot of crew stays in the motor lodge at the end of town. And some crew brought families and their own RVs. There’s something like a tent city on the other side of the lot.”

“It’s not fancy,” he said. “I thought it would be fancy.”

“Not usually. There’s a lot of money wrapped up in this—people are working hard to get the job done, and on time. Every day we spend here costs tens of thousands of dollars.”

They spent Saturday afternoon touring the local area from the car, stopping off in some antique stores because it was an addiction of Muriel’s. They ate in a diner in a town no bigger than Virgin River, bought a few things to take home for dinner and Sunday-morning breakfast, sat on the front porch with their glasses of wine and people waved to them as they walked by.

They visited a local stable and took a couple of gentle horses out along a mountain trail, walked along a local river holding hands and had long, seamless, almost endless talks about everything and everybody.

And then Monday morning arrived, in spite of the fact that both of them wished it never would. Muriel had to report to the set and Walt would drive back to Missoula and fly home. She had to leave the house before he did, so he walked her out onto the front porch to say goodbye.

“That was a damn fast forty-eight hours,” he said.

“I’ll talk to you tonight, though it could be late. It was wonderful having you here, even if it was only for a little while.” She smiled up at him. “I’ve never had so much sex in my life.”

“Really?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Even when you were younger?”

“Even then.”

“I must be getting better with age,” he said. “I’m coming back for another round.”

“You are?”

“Yep. I’m going home and making airline reservations for a couple of weeks from now, so put it on your calendar. And I’m going to keep coming back often until this godforsaken movie shit is over.”

“It might be bad luck on my Oscar for you to refer to it that way.”

“I just hope your next movie isn’t filmed in some Middle Eastern desert—I’ve seen enough of those in my life.”

She lifted a brow. “My next movie?”

“If you decide to retire for real after this one, I can live with that,” he said, grinning. He ran a knuckle along her cheek. “Did we talk about everything? Anything lingering out there we didn’t cover?” She shook her head. “Well, there’s that one thing that kind of goes with I’m in love with you,” he continued. “If you want to get married, I’m game.”

“I don’t know…”

“And if you don’t want to, it’s okay. As long as I have your na**d body up against mine on a very frequent basis, I’ll get along. I’m leaving the whole issue completely up to you, Muriel.”

“Why, Walt?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with marriage. I liked it, it worked for me. No boogeymen or curses as far as I’m concerned. Whatever you decide you want to do, either way I’m claiming you. Don’t try to wiggle out of it. It’s a done deal.”

“I don’t want to get out of it. I like you.”

“You love me,” he corrected. “Passionately. Desperately. Insatiably.”