Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(85)

“Need something?” he asked teasingly.

“I’ve been turned on all day, just waiting for you to be alone again.”

He leisurely unsnapped her jeans and slipped his hand down over her flat belly.

“Luke!” she scolded. “We can play later!”

It made him laugh. He released her arms, pulled off the bra, pulled down the jeans and got rid of his own. Against her lips he said, “I’m going to last two minutes.”

“I think I have one minute in me,” she answered.

He lifted her legs for her, teased her a little bit, and then he went in for the kill. But Shelby was way ahead of him, hungrier than he was, which seemed impossible to him. Her legs came around his waist and within seconds she was astounding him with a shattering cl**ax, sending him reeling into another world. He groaned low in his throat while he held on, letting her ride it out. And when she was on the way down from the experience, he let go. A week of tension, worry, doubt and paranoia pulsed out of him. He was in the only place he wanted to be.

Then there was the part he’d come to love as much—holding her while she returned to the world, conscious of their surroundings, relieved and appeased, flushed, happy. She laughed softly. “That was embarrassing,” she said. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing you didn’t do right back to me,” he said. He gave her a kiss. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, but it was a good week,” she said. “Whew. We’re too new to have separations like that, I think.”

“I hated my mother every night,” he said as he slipped out of her.

“Aw. She’s great. You’re lucky, you have a wonderful mother.”

He settled onto his side and pulled her close. Funny, the thing that came to his mind first was that he had learned more about Shelby’s life by listening to her talk to his mother than he had from their time together, which had been intense and intimate. Something about that made him feel bad.

“Tell me about your mother,” he said, hugging her.

“She was fantastic. If my mother had lived, our mothers would have liked each other. Before she got sick, she was such a bundle of energy. She was beautiful—I’ll show you pictures sometime. She always worked. She had to, of course—my dad left us before I was even born. My Uncle Walt was a huge help, but still… Even though she worked full-time, she still made it to every concert or game or school thing I had going on. Not only did she make time for me to have girlfriends over, we were like chums. Everyone else hated their mothers, they were fighting all the time, but I was shopping and going to movies with mine.” She got a little sniffly and said, “I’m so damn grateful we had that when I was a teenager. It’s not the usual way, you know.”

“I know,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face.

“You do? Were you fighting with your parents?”

“I have four brothers. Everyone was fighting. We still fight.”

“Aw, how can you say that, now? Sean is so sweet….”

“Stop saying nice things about him,” Luke said. “He’s a troublemaker. So tell me some more.”

“You sure? It’s boring.”

“Not to me,” he said.

“Well, after she slowed down and needed me, we couldn’t get out much together anymore, but that didn’t keep us from having fun. We both loved to read—I read to her till late in the night. I read all of Gone with the Wind and Anna Karenina, even though we’d both read them before. We loved those old, rich, deep, complicated romances. And we used to watch chick flicks—and cry. Then we’d talk about them—about what the girls did that was stupid, what the guys did that was inadequate, and of course what they did totally right. We’d develop our ‘perfect man’ fantasies around those characters. We were kind of alike, you know. She hadn’t had a perfect man, either. We’d talk about the best things a man could say to just bring you to your knees. Like the Jerry Maguire line—you know?”

“Who’s Jerry Maguire?” he asked, running his hand over her bare shoulder.

“Tom Cruise,” she said.

“He’s short.”

Shelby grinned at him. “So am I.”

“Stop,” he said, laughing. “What did he say? What was the line? I’m always looking for a good line.”

“You complete me.”

Luke’s eyebrows rose. “Really? What does that mean?”

“You make me whole…” He frowned at her. “I’m not a whole person without you. You know.”

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t think I could pull that one off.”

She laughed. “We used to make up our own best lines. And talk about what the perfect man would be like.”

“What was your perfect man like?” he asked.

“Nothing like you,” she said. “But then everything changed and it became you….”

“What was your perfect line?” he asked.

“It’s just silly….”

“No, tell me. I want to know.”

“It’s just a line. A fantasy line. You can’t steal it—it wouldn’t be the same if I fed it to you. And if you use it on some other woman, I’m going to tell my Uncle Walt you did something horrible to me so he kills you.”