Robyn Carr - Temptation Ridge

She shrugged, smiling. She put out her hand to Luke. “Nice seeing you again, Luke. Later.”

“Sure,” he said, taking her hand. As she left, he watched her walk out. He didn’t want to do that, but the view was impossible to resist. When he looked back at Jack, Jack grinned, then got busy behind the bar.

Before seven o’clock Luke had met Preacher—or John to his wife and young stepson. He met Paige, Preacher’s wife, and Jack’s younger sister Brie and her husband, Mike. He saw old Doc Mullins again and passed the time with some of his new neighbors. He feasted on some of the best salmon he’d ever eaten, heard some local lore and was already feeling like one of the gang. While he was there others passed through for dinner and drinks, greeting Jack and Preacher like old pals.

Another couple entered and Luke was introduced to Paul Haggerty, the builder, and his wife, Vanessa. “Jack gave me a call,” Paul said. “He tells me we have you as a new neighbor.”

“That’s optimistic,” Luke said. “I haven’t been out to the property yet.”

“Is that your camper out there?” Paul asked.

“As a precaution,” Luke said with a laugh. “If the house isn’t habitable, I won’t have to sleep in the truck.”

“Be sure and let me know if you need me to look at any of it.”

“I appreciate that. More than you realize.”

Luke found himself staying at the bar far later than he had intended. In fact, when Jack’s friends were saying good-night, he was still there, having a cup of coffee with Jack. These seemed like nice people, though he was a little shell-shocked by the women. He could accept the idea that Jack had found himself a young beauty right in Virgin River, but it seemed they were everywhere. Shelby, Paige, Brie and Vanessa were all damn sweet-looking. He held out great hope of landing himself at least a little diversion in the next town over.

“You’re going to want to meet Paul’s father-in-law, Walt,” Jack said. “He’s retired army.”

“Yeah?” Luke asked. “I think Shelby mentioned that.”

“Three-star. Nice guy.”

Luke groaned in spite of himself. He actually dropped his head. And apparently Jack was reading him.

“Yep. Shelby’s Uncle Walt,” Jack said.

“Shelby. The eighteen-year-old?”

Jack chuckled. “She’s a little older than that. But I admit, young. Looker, though, isn’t she?”

That was impossible to miss, Luke thought. “I took one look at her and felt like I was going to get arrested,” he said, making Jack laugh. “How much more dangerous could she be, huh? Young, sweet and living with a three-star.”

“Yeah,” Jack laughed. “But hell, she’s all grown up now. Grew up fine, I’d say.”

“Hey, I’m not getting near that,” Luke said.

“Whatever you say,” Jack said.

Luke stood up, put money on the bar, put out his hand and said, “Thanks, Jack. I really didn’t expect this kind of welcome. I’m glad I shot through town before going out to the house.”

“Let us know if we can do anything to help. Nice having you with us, soldier. You’re going to like it here.”

It was typical of the Sheridans to have their dinner together at the bar, often with friends and family, and then Jack would load up his little family and send them home so Mel could put the children to bed while he stayed on, serving until closing. On this particular night, Mel had hurried home to relieve Brie of babysitting. Jack snuck out of the bar a little early and brought their dinner home.

It could still amaze him, the satisfaction he felt when he went home to his family. Three years ago he was a single man, living in a room built onto his bar, completely disinterested in a domestic tether like this. Now he couldn’t imagine any other kind of life. He kept thinking that the strength of his feelings for his wife should settle into a kind of complacency by now, and yet his passion for her, the depth of his love, only grew by the day. She had wound her sweet love around his heart and owned him, body and soul. He didn’t know how he’d lived so long without it; didn’t know why other men evaded it, and he finally understood his friends who’d lived this life for years.

It was nothing fancy: a meal at the kitchen table, some conversation about the building at the bar, the new guy in town, Shelby’s return for a nice long visit while she applied to colleges. But for Jack it was the most important part of his day, that time he had Mel all to himself, the kids tucked in for the night.

When the dishes were cleaned up, Mel headed for the shower first. Jack brought in logs and laid a fresh fire in the master-bedroom hearth—the nights were already getting brisk. Fall came early in the mountains. When that was done, he went around the house collecting trash to take to the town Dumpster in the morning. He pulled off his boots by the back door and as he passed the laundry room, he tugged off his shirt and socks and left them on the washer. By the time he got back to his bedroom, the shower had stopped running. He hung his belt in the closet and went to the master bath.

As he stood in the doorway, he caught Mel in front of the mirror, quickly pulling her towel closed over herself. She had a guilty look on her face as she met his eyes in the mirror. “Melinda, what are you doing?” he asked, unzipping his jeans to take them off and take a shower of his own.

“Nothing,” she said, averting her eyes.

He frowned and stepped toward her. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Were you covering up? In front of me?” he asked, astonished.

“Jack, I’m going to pot,” she said, cinching the towel tighter.

“What?” he asked, laughter in his voice. “What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath. “My boobs are drooping, my butt fell into my thighs, I have a potbelly, and if that’s not bad enough, I’m so covered with stretch marks, I look like a deflated balloon.” She put a hand against his rock-hard chest. “You’re eight years older than I am and you’re in perfect shape.”

He started to laugh. “I thought you were trying to cover a tattoo or something. Mel, I didn’t have two children, a year apart. Emma’s only a few months old. Give yourself a little time, huh?”

“I can’t help it. I miss my old body.”

“Oh-oh,” he said, putting his arms around her. “If you’re thinking like that, I’m not doing my job.”

“But it’s true,” she said, laying her head against the soft mat of hair on his chest.

“Mel, you are more beautiful every day. I love your body.”

“It’s not what it was…”

“Hmm. But it’s better,” he said. He tugged at the towel and she hung on. “Come on,” he said. She let go and he pulled it away. “Ah,” he said, smiling down at her. “This body is amazing to me—incredible. More lush and irresistible every day.”

“You can’t mean that,” she said.

“But I do.” He leaned down and touched her lips with his, one hand on her breast, the other moving smoothly down her back and over her bottom. “This body has given me so much—I worship this body.” He lifted her breast slightly. “Look,” he said.

“I can’t bear it,” she complained.

“Look, Mel. Look in the mirror. Sometimes when I see you like this, uncovered, I can’t breathe. Every small change just makes you better, more delicious to me. You can’t think I’d have anything but complete admiration for the body that gave me my children. You give me so much pleasure, sometimes I think I might be losing my mind. Baby, you’re perfect.”

“I’m twenty pounds heavier than when you met me,” she said.

He laughed at her. “What are you now? A size four?”