Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(57)

“Yes, sir. But don’t get ahead of me—I have to talk to the family. When we get up to Oregon for a few days, Vanni can do some grandparent time with Carol and Lance, meet my family, and I can run this proposition by my dad and brothers. I hope you’re okay about me taking Vanni home with me for a few days. We’ll be back before the weekend.”

“Good. That’s good.” Walt stuck out his hand to Paul. “You should go away together for a while,” he said. “So I can get some sleep.” And then he walked out of the kitchen.



Paul could feel subtle changes in himself after just twenty-four hours. A confrontation with Vanessa followed by one night in her arms had taught him a few things about her. And himself. She was a strong woman—she needed a man of equal or greater strength. One who was sturdy, determined, not someone who would defer or shy away. She liked power, and she didn’t crave it for herself, but rather wanted to align herself with it; she was a formidable partner and required a man who wasn’t the least bit nervous about that. If Vanessa felt overpowered, she wouldn’t cower, she’d fight. But if she felt considerably stronger than her man, she’d fight even harder. She could only team up with confidence, passion and conviction. All that brought out the best in him—his self-assurance and competence. She was raised by a general—she appreciated brawn and nerve. Courage.

She liked his gentle side, but only in contrast. She’d been forced to shoulder so much pain and loss and had had to be tough; she couldn’t partner with a man who would take her strength for granted; she needed a man she could lean on sometimes. She had a temper; she was feisty and bossy, sometimes difficult. But she was fair and just with a love that was deep and enduring. She had both a growl and a purr; Paul was committed to bringing out and adoring both.

She was perfect for him. And he realized with some surprise that he was her match. It was an incomparable feeling. The pride it fed in him honed his strength, deepened his love.

While Paul drove them to his home, to Oregon, with the baby tucked into his car seat in the back of the extended cab truck, Vanni slept as much as Mattie did. The trepidation that had kept him from speaking up earlier, that had once kept him from approaching her from across a crowded bar and sitting down beside her a few years ago, was gone. He was possessive, sure of himself, serene. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, constantly reaching for her, touching her knee, circling her shoulders with his arm. He’d been inside her body, made her tremble with pleasure and beg for more, branded her, made her his. She didn’t scare him anymore.

When they were nearly to Grants Pass, Vanni asked when they should see Paul’s family or the Rutledges. “We’re not even going to call them until tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “We’ll stop off at the grocery, get what we need and have a night alone, just the three of us. Monday is soon enough to get in touch with them.” When Vanni started making noises of cooking him an elaborate dinner to show off some of her skills, he stopped her. “We’re not spending all our time in the kitchen tonight. There’s plenty of time for that,” he said. Into the cart went diapers, formula for the baby, cereal, eggs, milk, sandwich and salad makings and an already-roasted chicken and vegetables.

Vanessa had seen some of Paul’s work before—Mel and Jack’s house, which was Joe’s design and Paul’s construction expertise. But he showed her his house in Grants Pass with pride. It was a masterpiece. Large oak double doors led into a spacious foyer with white marble floors. There were a few steps down into a sunken great room with thick, light beige carpet and a large fireplace of beautiful slate. A long row of windows with French panes looked out onto a manicured lawn, and the ceilings were high and beamed. There were two bedrooms, spacious, and throughout the house were stunning built-in bookcases and cabinets and even a gorgeous built-in breakfront in the dining room, so large it took up most of one wall. Off the kitchen and dining room was a long deck with a barbecue and redwood furniture. Paul had done most of the interior work himself—he had a complete workshop in the third bay of his three-car garage; he was a master carpenter. The kitchen was a showplace—hardwood floors, white granite countertops flecked with gold, cupboards with glass doors. And it was immaculate to the point of being sterile.

“This is magnificent,” she said in a breath. “I would give anything for such a house,” she said.

“I’ll build you whatever you want,” he said.

Paul set up the baby’s port-a-crib in the second bedroom while Vanni nursed him in the great room. He made a tray of snacks, poured Vanni a glass of wine and himself a beer. Then there was a little playtime before Mattie started to yawn. Paul took the baby to his bed to put him down for a nap and when he got back, he found Vanni in the kitchen, rinsing off their dishes.

He wanted to tell her things about how his life had changed in a day, but the words eluded him. It would be nice to explain that he’d been with women before, but never like this. He’d had sex. Good sex. In fact, the worst sex he’d ever had was pretty damn good. But no woman before her had taken him in with the kind of intimacy and intensity that Vanni had; he was sure he’d never been able to draw the kind of response from anyone that Vanessa had given back to him. The second his lips touched her neck or his hand glided over her soft body, she was in motion. Hotter than fire. The passion she unleashed was unbelievable. Unimaginable. The way her hips moved against him, it made him weak to even think about it. It gave him a kind of power and mastery he didn’t know he had. When she was in his arms he became the world’s greatest lover. There was nothing in the universe that could stroke a man’s pride more than lighting up a woman with such ease; to bring her complete, exhausting satisfaction like that, over and over. She was amazing and he felt as if his heart would explode. And clearly, the most remarkable and wondrous part was that she left him without a shred of doubt—she was his. Completely his.