Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(105)

Jack leaned closer to Mike. “You’d better not screw around with my little sister. Remember, I know you and your ways with women, and this is my sister we’re talking about.”

Mike laughed. “You think I’m looking to get shot again? Buddy, all that’s in the past. I promise you, I’ll treat Brie as a sister. You have nothing to worry about.”

“In the past, huh? And what brought that on?”

“Three bullets.” He drank a little of his coffee, left the mug on the bar and stuck his head in the kitchen. “Preach,” he called. “I’ll be by to get my lunch at about ten tomorrow. Okay?”

Jack found it strange that he felt even less confident about winning his wife’s affection now than he had back when he’d been pursuing her. He greatly regretted that he hadn’t said anything to her about the fact that they could have some time alone together—a major tactical miscalculation. He should have gotten an answer from her, because he dreaded going out to the cabin, lusty, all steamed up, only to have her tell him it was too soon, that she wasn’t ready.

But he’d said nothing, opting for a more romantic approach, surprising her in the middle of the day, wooing her, seducing her. She had also known that Brie would be out with Mike for most of the day, and Mel was not shy. She could have suggested they take advantage of the opportunity. And she hadn’t.

How does a guy know when his wife is ready for sex, right after having a baby? He knew the postpartum bleeding had long since stopped because he was the guy who threw the daily trash into the back of his truck to take into town to pitch in the Dumpster. Those little Peripads had dwindled and disappeared, replaced by more of the neat little disposable diaper bundles. And Mel’s movements had gone from slow to spry; she had stopped complaining about soreness and there were no more bathtub soaks as of at least three weeks ago.

The closer he got to the cabin, the more thought he gave this adventure. She was having her appointment with John Stone in less than a week to be sure everything was all right after the birth—she was undoubtedly waiting for that. When he got there, he found her finishing up with David’s bath in the kitchen. “Well, well,” she said, smiling. “I don’t often see you in the middle of the morning.”

“It’s real quiet at the bar,” he said idly.

“When I’m finished here, I have to feed David and put him down,” she said. And then she cooed and smiled and made faces at the baby, consumed by his needs. “Then I’ll get to you,” she said. Again, she had her face in David’s, kissing him, making funny little noises at him.

Jack went out onto the porch. He sat on the steps and hung his head. He felt like a brute. Like a horny bull who was about to steal the milk out of his baby’s mouth. This was no way to claim your conjugal rights—by jumping on the first opportunity you saw to take advantage of your own wife.

He took a deep breath and lectured himself. Have a cup of coffee with your woman, he said to himself. Spend a little time with her, talk to her, work into the conversation in a soft and gentlemanly manner that you can’t wait for her to be ready to take you into her bed again, in that meaningful way. Ask her if she was waiting for an all-clear from her doctor, and for God’s sake, take it slow. Give her all the time she needs—everything will be better that way. Being too hot to handle wasn’t going to win any points now—she had a baby to think about.

“What are you doing out there?”

He turned to see her standing in the cabin door, wearing only his shirt. His heart was going to explode. He took in her full chest, her slim legs.

“You don’t even have your boots off. I could have sworn you showed up to get reacquainted with your wife’s body.”

He swallowed. “Is that gonna happen?” he asked tentatively. Hopefully.

“Not a moment too soon,” she said. And she turned and walked back into the house.

His boots were off on the porch, his shirt was off in the living room, his pants were down and kicked away in the bedroom doorway.

Mel lay back on the bed, barely covered by his shirt. She began to slowly unbutton it, starting at the top. Easy, boy, he told himself. You’d better find out what you’re dealing with. She did just have a baby. He lay down beside her, brought her against him and, kissing her, holding her, he asked, “Are you okay with this? You’re sure?”

“Jack, I’ll never be exactly as I was before the baby. My body has changed.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Your body is amazing to me. After what you did—I’m almost envious, in a weird way. I worship this body.”

She laughed at him. “You know the last two or three months?”

“Yeah?”

“All the things we would have done if we hadn’t been so incredibly pregnant? If we hadn’t just had a baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please do all those things to me now? One at a time. Until you’re almost dead from exhaustion. Please?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She opened the shirt to reveal her na**d body, the sight of which he drank in greedily. She was fuller, rounder, so lush; there was a new richness to her shape that blew his mind. “Get started, big boy. I am insane, I want you so bad.”

“Melinda,” he said, filling his hands with her sweet body. “Have I told you how much I like being married to you?”