Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(82)

“I just can’t wait for the end of the day,” she said. “I shudder on and off all day long, just thinking…”

“Aftershocks,” he said, rolling onto his back. “I have ’em, too.” He chuckled. “It’s a miracle is what it is. I wasn’t even sure I could do it.”

“Huh?”

He rolled back onto his side and looked down at her. “I came out of my coma with a few things missing. Erections, for one thing.”

“Seriously?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Because you’re certainly having more than your share now.”

“It took almost a year to come back, and then it was completely unpredictable. When I took you to bed that first time, I didn’t know if it would work, how well it would work, if it would keep working….”

“And yet you went for it?”

He shrugged. “I had responded to you before…I was hopeful.”

“Mendocino,” she said with a smile.

“You did know. I wondered.”

“What if it hadn’t worked that first night?”

He ran a hand over her na**d shoulder and down over her hip. “Helping you become comfortable with a loving touch was all I wanted. Pleasing you was the only important thing. I was prepared to make up for it. In many wonderful ways.”

She closed her eyes. “You do have your ways,” she whispered.

He laughed, deep in his throat, and took great pride in working a little of his magic. Nothing in his life to this moment compared to the happiness he felt when she responded to him, when she was swept away by the pleasure he could give her. And sweeter still was holding her afterward, whispering in the night, or talking softly in the early-morning light. Whether it was love talk, usually only stirring them up all over again, or just the conversation of partners planning their days, their lives. Then there were conversations about children, about a house on a hill, about life together that took them into old age. All of it filled him up inside, gave him the substance that had been missing from his life. He’d had women but this was the first time he’d had a true partner.

Brie propped herself up on her elbow, meeting his smiling eyes, her hair falling over her shoulders. “It’s almost Thanksgiving,” she said. “You’re sure you want to stay here?”

He shrugged. “Mel and Jack can’t leave—she has babies coming. Preacher and Paige are here—that’s family. If you want to go to Sam’s, I’ll do that with you. But I don’t want to go to L.A. yet.”

“You aren’t keeping me a secret from the Valenzuelas, are you?”

“God, no, I’ve told them all, every one of them. I even told them to look out—you’re bilingual and tricky. But I’m not ready to share you. In my mother’s Catholic household, it would be separate bedrooms because we’re not married. Even though I’m thirty-seven and she knows we’re living together—it’s her Catholic home. We could stay in a hotel, but I think we’ll visit later. Just give me a little more time. I’ve never been this happy in my life and all day long I look forward to when we’re finally alone together.” He played with the hair that fell to her shoulder. “I’m greedy. This is the best my life has ever been.”

“What about Christmas?” she asked him.

“What about it?”

“Will your family be upset it we go to Dad’s for Christmas? Because my whole family plus Mel’s sister, brother-in-law and the kids will be there—and I want to be with them.”

“Then that’s where we’ll be. We can join the Valenzuelas another time. You have to remember, mija—my family is so large that my parents don’t expect to have all the kids together with their own families every year. We’ll do Christmas with them another year.”

Thanksgiving fell on the last Thursday of the month and Preacher did the dinner in the bar. General Booth and his family were invited, but they drove down the coast to Bodega Bay to be with his sister and niece. There were several Virgin River folk who were included in Thanksgiving at the bar, people that Preacher and Jack had looked after for a long time, and it was a tradition to serve them the holiday meal in the bar. There was Doc and Hope McCrea, Connie and Ron of the corner store, Ricky’s grandma Lydie, Joy and Bruce from just down the street. Now that Preacher and Jack were both married, they’d close the bar on Christmas, but Preacher liked doing his Thanks-giving feast, keeping the bar open in case anyone who was alone straggled in.

When Mel, Jack and Davie arrived for dinner, Mel called her two patients who were close to due dates to see how they were doing, and when the report was that everything was status quo, she asked for her one glass of wine for the trimester. “One of my girls is running a tish late, while the other one has a habit of going early,” she said, raising her glass to Brie. “Any second now, we’re having not one but two babies.”

“You must be so excited.”

“I still get a little wound up, waiting. I live for the babies.”

“And you’re still feeling okay?”

“I’ve been sick as a dog with this one. But I hang in. Jack promises he’s not going to do this to me again. And I’m leaning toward a surgical procedure while he sleeps.”

The turkey was one of Preacher’s very best and the side dishes were perfect. The pies had been made by Paige, who had developed some amazing culinary skills since coming to Virgin River. Preacher had proven to be not only a fabulous chef, but a wonderful teacher. And she was a very apt student who had seemed to find her niche in the kitchen with him.