Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(33)

“That’s why most of them are—how should I put it? Robust?”

She laughed at him. Leaving her beer for a moment, she ate a little more off her plate. “Yet another reason for me to get back to civilization.”

She stayed there for a moment longer, then he was beside her again. Nick. “I waited,” he said.

“Oh, Nick. Sorry—but I have to mingle. I’m new in town you know.” And off the stool she leaped, beer in her hand, leaving the plate behind.

As Nick made to follow, he found his wrist clamped down on the bar. Jack looked into his eyes darkly. “Your wife is waiting for you over there.”

“Be a sport, Jack,” Nick said laughing.

“You’d better behave yourself,” Jack warned.

Nick laughed heartily. “Now, Jack—you can’t have all the pretty girls to yourself. I mean, come on, man! All our wives are hot for you—cut a guy some slack.” And he made his escape.

Jack watched closely from behind the bar. He was able to serve drinks and draw drafts without taking his eyes off the room. Nick seemed to follow Mel around like a smitten puppy, sidling up as close as possible, but Mel was quick. She’d go around to the far sides of tables to crouch to speak to people, get other men between her and Nick, slip across the room as if there was someone she just had to see, always leaving Nick in her dust. Preacher was behind the bar with him and at a point said, “Want me to give him a little advice before he gets his nose broken?”

“No,” Jack said flatly. Jack was thinking that breaking his nose was going to feel very good. If Nick put one hand on her, he was going to come apart.

“Good,” Preacher said. “I haven’t been to a good bar fight in years.”

In keeping an eye on things, he saw Connie’s young niece stand up and walk over to the buffet, stick her finger into the icing on the cake and then into her mouth, slowly, so slowly pulling her finger back out while glancing over her shoulder at Rick—and his boy Ricky froze at one of the tables where he was picking up glasses. Jack saw him see her; saw Ricky almost tremble for a moment, mouth open slightly, eyes wide, taking her in—those long legs, full breasts. Oh, boy, Jack thought.

Someone lit the candles on the cake and everyone got up from their tables and came from the edges of the room to gather round, sing and watch Joy knock herself out trying to blow out fifty-three of them.

Mel stood at the rear of the crowd; Jack’s eyes were back on her. Jack scowled blackly as Nick came up behind her. He couldn’t see what was happening through the crowd, but he noted that a smile grew on Nick’s face just as Mel’s chin raised up, her eyes grew round and startled and she threw a panicked look in Jack’s direction. Jack pushed himself off the bar and was making fast tracks to the other side when Mel reacted.

Mel felt a hand run over her bottom and inch between her legs. She was stunned for a moment, disbelieving. Then her instincts kicked in and shifted her beer to her other hand, threw an elbow back into his gut, brought that same elbow up under his chin, swept his legs out from under him with one booted foot, lifting him off his feet to send him crashing to the floor, flat on his back. She put her foot on his chest and glared into his eyes. “Don’t you ever try anything like that again!” All this without spilling a drop of her beer.

Jack froze at the end of the bar. Whoa, he thought. Damn.

A second passed. Then Mel looked around the now silent room in some embarrassment. Everyone was shocked and staring. “Oh!” she said, but her foot still held Nick on his back. Nick who, it seemed, couldn’t draw a breath, just lay there, stunned. She removed her foot. “Oh…” she said.

A laugh broke out of the crowd. Someone clapped. A woman yelped approvingly. Mel backed away somewhat sheepishly. She ended up at the bar, right in front of Jack. Right where she felt safest. Jack put a hand on her shoulder and glared in Nick’s direction.



Mel felt awfully sorry for Jo Ellen. What’s a woman from a town this size supposed to do with an obnoxious husband like that? Once Jo peeled him off the floor and took him home, the party became much more fun, and the jokes were fabulous. Several men asked her to arm wrestle and she had clearly become a hero to the women.

The stories of Nick’s antics were both shocking and entertaining. Once, when he was feeling invincible and couldn’t resist a breast, he’d been cold-cocked by a woman. Up till tonight that was the most legendary put down he’d suffered. He’d collected a number of slaps, but by some miracle had not yet been beat to a pulp by an angry husband; he was apparently regarded as a pathetic joke. It seemed that when there was some kind of community or neighborhood party, like tonight, he’d have a couple of pops and get frisky, take chances that, by the light of day, he managed to keep under control. His reputation was firmly established.

“And yet you keep inviting him,” Mel observed to Connie.

“It’s just us here, kiddo. We’re kind of stuck with each other.”

“He should be told that if he can’t mind his manners, he won’t be included anymore.”

“The problem with that is it would leave Jo out—and she’s good people. I feel a whole lot sorrier for Jo than any of the women he pesters,” Connie said. “Makes her look like a damn fool. We can pretty much take care of ourselves.” She patted Mel’s arm. “And you, girl—I doubt he’s going to give you any more trouble.”