Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(50)

She was oblivious to the time, but when she looked at her watch she realized they hadn’t been gone that long—about thirty minutes. Colin stopped the Harley on a grassy plateau with a beautiful view, propped it up on its stand and got off. He pulled off his helmet and reached for her hand to help her off.

She pulled her helmet off. “This is beautiful! How often have you been up here?”

“Never,” he said. “I thought we’d end up in the woods, but this road looked interesting. I haven’t been on a bike in years.”

“You managed it like you ride every day.”

“I was at Luke’s today. I saw that bike and thought—perfect. I’ve been wanting to get you alone….”

“You have me alone every night, Colin,” she said with a laugh.

“To talk,” he explained.

Her mouth dropped open. She looked a little stricken. “Are you dumping me?” she asked. “I’m not even quite used to you!”

“No, baby.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. “I’m going to give you a chance to dump me.”

“But why would I—”

“That’s what we’re going to talk about.”

He couldn’t resist; he gave her a deep, penetrating kiss, holding her body up against his for a long, sensual moment. When he released her mouth and her body, all he could say was, “Ahhhh…God, I think I’m addicted to you!”

A little weak in the knees, which was usual for her when he did things like that, she said, “Shew, are you a wanted felon or something?”

He sat on the soft grass and pulled her down with him. They sat cross-legged, facing each other. “Close,” he said as he moved to take both her hands in his. “You know I had a bad accident, a crash.” She nodded and waited, wide-eyed. “I probably should’ve died in it but, thanks to my boys, I made it through. They pulled me out. I was pretty roughed up.”

“You were critical,” she inserted.

“Someone told you?” he asked, surprised.

“Lucky guess,” she said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” he affirmed. “Lots of broken bones, burns, et cetera. I don’t mean to make excuses, but I was in a lot of pain. I got addicted to OxyContin. When the doc cut me off, I tried to buy it illegally and ended up getting arrested. I got lucky and went to treatment—probably thanks to my brother, Aiden, who came to help. All my brothers came to help me at one time or another—I was a real load. I think I’ve been a load for about forty years—a lot of cocky attitude and defensive behavior. Anyway, I spent months in treatment, first for the injuries, then for the addiction, then for depression. That’s really why the Army is done with me, but at least they retired me. No civilian operation would hire me with all that on my résumé—at least that’s my assumption. Baby, when I came to these mountains I was half-alive. There are a lot of tire tracks across my body.”

“Do you think I’d hold all that against you?” she asked him.

“Nah, I know you wouldn’t. There’s something about you, something so unique and beautiful, something I’ve never had in my life before. But you need to know some truths—that half of what happened to make me who I am right now was just an accident, but half was me angry that I wasn’t going to get that life back. Some of that Oxy ride and depression, that was me mourning my life, the life I lost. Jilly, I loved who I was before the accident. I loved flying that chopper—it takes some talent to keep the greasy side down, to maneuver it into tight spots, to keep it out of the line of fire. The scarier it was, the better I liked it. I was good at it. It gave me such a rush, I can’t even explain….”

She just smiled at him and gently raked her nails through his beard. He pressed her hand against his cheek.

“When I wasn’t in the helicopter, I did other things for that rush, that charge. I played amateur rugby—just amateur, but no less rough. I liked a little hockey when we could get a few guys together. I drove too fast, I dived off cliffs, para sailed, skied, scuba dived. Anything that would duplicate that excitement. My brothers all think I’m reckless. They always called me the wild man or crazy man. I didn’t feel reckless or crazy—I think I just like putting it all on the line. I liked the challenge.”

“It’s funny,” she said. “When you make love to me, you don’t seem crazy. You’re a little wild,” she added with a grin. “But you take very good care of me.”

“That’s how I felt in my old life,” he said. “A little wild, but in complete control.”

“You dived off cliffs? You said you didn’t like heights,” she reminded him.

He smiled almost sheepishly. “That would somehow make it better. The thing is, Jilly—this guy who paints and limps up the stairs? This is not who I am. This is only me getting back to who I really am. You might be the best woman who ever came into my life…but I’m still going to Africa and I might even stay there, fly in the bush.”

“What exactly does that mean? Fly in the bush?”

“Simply, operating aircraft in dangerous, inhospitable regions of the world. It’s the next-best thing to flying in combat. If I don’t like what Africa has to offer, I’ll check out New Zealand, Alaska, South America. I don’t even dislike the idea of flying in a mercenary operation—a civilian in a war zone. All that matters to me is that I get my life back—I just can’t get over feeling I was robbed. I’ll be ready to slow down someday, but honey, that’s not going to be for a long while. I’m sure not ready for a steady diet of slow and easy now.”