Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(96)

He wondered what the hell was going on with him—she wasn’t typical of the sort of woman he was attracted to. No, it was leggy blondes he liked, and this woman was small with that long sheath of satiny black hair. Her waist was so tiny, he thought maybe he could get his hands around it. That pink mouth, the same color as the dress. Her ankles, narrow. Calves, slim but firm; tiny feet with pink toes. When did he start caring about ankles and toes? He watched her laugh, the way she tilted her head back, an action that sent ripples down her curtain of hair.

Joe was a little confused. When he developed one of those physical attractions, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from a woman’s butt, her breasts, her thighs. This was a whole new thing—the way she laughed, her little feet. It was nuts. It was like a schoolboy’s crush.

He kept watch, looking for a moment to spirit her out under the starlight, maybe steal a kiss or something, wondering why he would bother. First thing in the morning he was headed to Grants Pass and she would take off for San Francisco. Still, he watched her every move. When he saw her walk down the hall and slip into the room that had been given to her for her stay, he briefly gave up the vigil and went to the bar for a drink.

The hour was still early when some of the guests began to leave and Joe was caught up in saying goodbye to friends. “I’m going to open the bar for the guys who are staying over,” Preacher told him.

“Thanks, but I’m just going to bunk in the trailer out front and leave first thing. I have some work to get done before Monday morning,” Joe said.

The marines started to filter out, headed back into town, maybe thinking along the lines of cards, and Paul’s family—parents, brothers and their wives—were going to drive as far as Fortuna to stay the night before going on to Oregon in the morning. Vanni and Paul would pass their wedding night right here, to spend as much time with Tom as possible before he left.

She was gone, Joe realized. The house was beginning to empty of guests, the night was dark but for a sliver of a moon and a billion stars, and the girl he’d had a fix on all day was missing. He looked around the great room, the kitchen, and then, braving rejection, walked down the hall to her room. He tapped lightly on the door, but there was no answer. It was not gentlemanly, but he pushed open the door because he had to find her. She wasn’t there. How’d she get by him? There was no one in the hall bath; the door stood open. He had to at least get her phone number. He felt a trip to the Bay Area coming on.

“Have you seen Nikki?” he asked Vanessa.

“I haven’t. I thought maybe she turned in.”

“Maybe she did,” he lied. “I just wanted to say good-night—I’ll probably be out of here real early in the morning.”

Damn, he wasn’t ready to give up on that one. He hadn’t been drawn to a woman in a while, but this one had hooks in him like grappling. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was fierce.

The party was dwindling to just a few people—Rick and Tom and their girls, the bride and groom, the general, Mike and Brie, Shelby. The caterers were packing up and cleaning the kitchen. Joe stepped outside onto the now-dark deck. He took out a cigar, clipped the end, struck a match on his shoe—and it illuminated her. She was standing at the far end of the deck, out of sight, out of the light from within the house, her back to him.

He started to get excited at having found her, feeling a crazy lift in his chest. The match burned down to his fingers and he shook it out with a muffled curse. He took a breath and walked up behind her. “The stars again?” he asked softly.

“Something like that,” she said, her voice teary.

He slipped the cigar back into his shirt pocket and gently grabbed on to her upper arms. “What’s the matter?” he whispered.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said. Then she sniffed.

“Nothing? Fine but for the tears?” He gave her arms a squeeze. “Don’t cry, now. I can’t stand it when a woman cries. Wipes me out.”

“Go back inside,” she whispered. “Go on.”

“Can’t,” he said, leaning toward her a little, inhaling her scent. “I’m kind of stuck here now.”

“Just go, okay? This is sort of embarrassing.”

He turned her around slowly. He looked down into those dark, liquid eyes, a trace of tears on each cheek. “All this wedding crap, huh?”

“I don’t want Vanni to think I’m not happy for her.”

“She wouldn’t think that. She’d understand.”

“Someone told you.”

“I asked Paul why a woman as beautiful as you seems sad. Bad breakup, he said. I don’t know the details, but I’m sorry that happened. He’s certifiable, the guy who let you go.” He pressed his lips first against one of those tear tracks, then the one on the other cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“The only thing I can think of is kiss the tears away. I don’t want you to cry anymore, but if you do, I can take care of it.”

“You shouldn’t. We don’t really know each other.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking all day—we should get to know each other better.” He put his hands on her waist. “I’ve been wondering about this all day,” he said. “I can get my hands around your waist.” He lowered his lips to hers, barely touching them. “I think there was a small tear there,” he whispered.