Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(72)

Preacher threw back that second shot while Mike merely lifted his, not drinking.

“I thought you were messing with my girl,” Preacher confessed.

“No, I was telling her to try to be patient with you because of your, you know, extra-low IQ.” Then he grinned at Preacher’s scowl.

“You always used to mess with anybody’s girl,” he said.

“Not just anybody’s girl, Preach. I’d never touch a brother’s woman, you should know that. Even I don’t cross that line. Even if you haven’t made it clear to Paige, you’ve made it clear to everyone else—she’s your girl. Besides, I’m no threat to you. It’s you she wants. Bad enough to make her cry about it.” Mike took in about half his drink and stood up. “Do yourself a favor, Preacher. Your girl needs you and you don’t want to let her down now. Don’t waste another minute.” He left the rest of his drink. He stared into Preacher’s eyes. “You better take care of business. You copy?”

Copy, Preacher thought. Cop talk. “Yeah. I copy.”

Preacher went upstairs to put Christopher to bed. Christopher was running around the room bare-assed, dodging his jammies; the kid loved being naked. Preacher grabbed him up, swung him around as he giggled and stood him on the bed. “Enough,” he said. “You’re going to bed.”

“Read to me,” Christopher said, bouncing.

“Your mommy is going to read tonight. Ten minutes. And then lights out.”

Preacher got him in the pajamas and gave Paige a little slap on the rump. “I’ll see you downstairs in ten.”

“Okay,” she said, a little surprised by his apparent playful mood.

Preacher, his insides tight, went to his quarters. He shaved and showered quickly. He put on a pair of sweat-pants and a T-shirt. He looked at his bed and drew the quilt down, folding it. And he thought, I’m going to think of this as something I have to do for a friend. Not for me—for her. That’s what it’ll be.

She hadn’t come downstairs yet, so he stirred up the fire a little bit and sat on the chair, his feet up in front of the fireplace. When she came into the room he said, “Come here, Paige.” He held out a hand to her and brought her onto his lap. He ran his big hands down her sides to her waist and leaned toward her. She met his lips for a short kiss, but when he didn’t pull back, she went there again, making it long, slow and lovely. His lips opened slightly, and with the back of his hand, his knuckles, he brushed against her breast and felt her sigh against his open mouth. He put his big hand over her breast.

She rubbed a hand along his cheek. “You shaved,” she said.

“Uh-huh. I wouldn’t want to go hard on your skin with whiskers. Mmm. Paige, you have any idea how I feel about you?” She just looked at him. “How much I feel for you?”

“You haven’t really said….”

“I should’ve said. But I—” He stopped and took a breath. “It’s hard for me to put into words, but what it is…This thing I feel for you—it gets stronger every day.” She smiled into his dark eyes. “You’re so soft. So small compared to me. I want you, Paige. My God. But haven’t been sure if you’re ready…”

“I’m ready,” she said in a whisper.

“I’ve been worrying. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. Especially after everything…Everything that came before me. Before us.”

She was stunned for a moment. Seeing the precious look in his eyes, she pressed her lips against his and kissed him again, lightly. Against his mouth she said, “You’re the gentlest man I’ve ever known. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I’m not experienced with women,” he said. “I’m never sure of the right things to do. And I never wanted to do the right things more than with you.”

“Good.” She smiled. “We’ll make up our own right things to do. It’ll be fresh. New.”

“My buddies, they know a lot about women. I never paid much attention. Until now. Until you.”

“I know,” she said. “I love that about you.”

“You do?”

“It makes me feel really special,” she said.

“Even if I don’t know everything I should know about women…?”

“I’ll tell you what you need to know,” she whispered.

He groaned and pulled her harder against his mouth, kissing her deeply, feeling her small tongue enter even as her arms tightened around him. “You think he’s asleep?” Preacher asked, a little breathless. “Because we’re going to have to close the door.”

“He was almost asleep before I left him. He’s not going to get out of bed, John.”

He kissed her again. And again. And then with his arms beneath her, stood up, lifting her. As he carried her toward his room, he felt her mouth against his neck, pressing soft kisses there, sucking gently at his earlobe, making small, beautiful noises.

He put her on his bed and she came up on her knees, facing him. His lips against hers, he began to work the buttons of her shirt. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt and ran them over his smooth chest, teasing his ni**les. He spread her shirt open and over her shoulders, letting it drop. He looked down at her; bruises healed, her skin was flawless. She reached her hands behind her and unhooked the bra, flinging it away. For a moment he just stared, filling his eyes with her lush, ivory skin, her full br**sts. When he met her eyes, she was smiling up at him, pleased to have his eyes on her.