He glanced away. “I’ll just go out to Jack’s,” he said, standing.

She grabbed his ice-cold hand. “You don’t have to go to Jack’s.”

“Yeah, I do. Because I’m afraid even if I can fall asleep, I’ll walk in my sleep and you’ll have your hands full in the middle of the night.”

She laughed softly. “I don’t want you to leave. Especially for that reason.”

“Aren’t you listening? I haven’t felt this out of control in years. I took a twenty-minute cold shower and still…”

Her eyes wandered downward and there it was, the evidence of his misery. A very obvious erection straining against the sweatpants he slept in. “Oh, my,” she said, smiling at him. “You don’t want to go out in the cold with that. You could hurt yourself.”

“Funny,” he said. “You have a broken ankle! Not to mention what’s-his-name.”

She shook her head. “No more what’s-his-name.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t exactly plan it, but when I called him today, I broke it off.” She shook her head again. “It wasn’t right, Denny. I’m not meant to be with him. And he’s really not meant to be with me.”

“Why?” he asked in a breath.

“To start with, I had way too many doubts.” She shrugged. “Now I realize it never did feel quite right.”

He reached out and smoothed her hair back along her temple. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m better,” she said. “I talked to my brother today. He was surprised, but even Rich said he just couldn’t see me with him… With Doug. Imagine that? Rich.”

Denny laughed briefly. “Rich Timm?” he asked.

“The same. Anyway, that’s that.”

Denny got a kind of bedazzled look in his eyes. “You still have a broken ankle…”

“Yes,” she said, pulling him toward her. She put his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm. “Try to be careful of that, will you?”

He resisted for a second, studying her face. Thinking. Considering. “Whoa boy,” he said. “You’re sure?”

And she nodded.

Ten

Denny put his cold hands on her, framing her face, sliding his fingers into her hair. He leaned down to kiss her, briefly at first. Then his mouth was harder against hers. He tongued open her lips and she opened to him willingly. Oh, God, the taste! That was the taste she remembered and loved. He kissed her senseless for a moment and then one knee came up onto the bed, then the second, then he was straddling her. His lips were on her mouth, her cheek, her ear, her neck. She drank him in; his breathing grew ragged and excited.

She laughed right into his open mouth.

“Funny?” he asked, pulling away a little bit.

“You are soooo cold.”

“That won’t last long…” He went after her again, pulling her mouth hard against his; his tongue explored and he groaned from someplace deep inside.

For her, it felt at once like coming home and a whole new experience.

He felt her small, warm hands slip under his T-shirt and caress his chest and back. “My God, you’re even cold under here.”

“Warm me up,” he said, his voice soft and husky. “You know what to do….”

She lifted up the T-shirt. “I think you’ll warm up faster without this.”

He pulled away from her just long enough to rip his shirt over his head. He was back to devouring her with kisses, but she’d managed a look at him, at his wide chest with that soft mat of hair and his flat belly.

While he kissed her, she caressed his back and slid her small hands under the waistband of his sweats to feel his hard butt. He worked on the buttons of her pajamas, taking his sweet time, and she found herself wishing she’d had the foresight to bring something sexier than warm jammies to Virgin River.

Finally he spread the pajama top and just stared at her. “Becca,” he said in a whisper. “Ah, Becca, you have the most beautiful body in the world.”

Her hands ran over his chest. “See?” she said softly. “You’re warmer already…”

He pulled back the bedcovers and knelt between her legs. His hands were hot now, hot on her breasts, covering them and pressing them together. He kissed his way down her neck, across her collarbone and onto her chest, finally pulling a nipple into his mouth. The sensation caused her to arch against him, and while he suckled, he pressed himself against her. Her hand slipping around to the front beneath his sweats, she reached for him, grabbing that most proud member in her hand. He shuddered. “God,” he said. “Oh, man… Baby, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Her moan was music to his ears. She pressed her pelvis against him, hungry. Eager. He sucked harder. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her pj bottoms and he began to slide them down. “You have to help me with this, baby. We have to be careful of your ankle….”

“Nice and slow, Denny. We don’t want to have to explain anything embarrassing to the doctor.”

He chuckled wickedly, happily, slowly pulling down the pajamas. “You embarrassed, honey?”

“Not at all,” she said, lifting her butt and letting them slide. She kicked the good leg out and waited patiently while he pulled the other over her splint.

“Yeah, we can do this.” Then he stopped and concentrated on her face. “You sure, Becca?”

She smiled and nodded. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m sure. You?”

He didn’t answer, he just fell into her kiss again, covering her open mouth with his, pulling her tongue into his mouth and tasting her. His fingers moved lower to tease her, to test her, to see if she was getting ready for him. She was going to drown him; he almost lost it right there. His groan was so deep and low, he felt it rumble through him.

“Becca, baby, I don’t think I can wait for you.”

She tugged his sweats down to his thighs, then urged him toward her.

She was panting, arching, lifting against him. The size of him thrilled her. Then she moved his hand so that he was stroking her in the right place, getting her hotter. Closer. It was all a part of their sexual memory, the things they had learned about each other, not forgotten even after years of separation. And her moan turned into a whimper as she led him to her.

He pressed himself gently against her, just barely entering a little bit, then stopped and looked deeply into her eyes before pushing on. “I still love you, baby. I never stopped loving you….”

“Oh, Denny, I missed you so much….”

A small smile found his lips right before he drove it home. Ah, he’d been here before! His world went into a spin. Everything he was feeling, he knew he would feel with her. He watched her face. She bit her lower lip, moaned softly. Her hands found the hard muscles of his butt and pulled him more deeply into her. Then she lifted against him, held him tight inside her and everything clenched until her toes curled. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God….” she cried.

“That’s my girl,” he said. And that was all the endearment he could muster before he rode her hard, throbbing with his own pleasure. He didn’t think it would ever end, and by the time the cl**ax ebbed, he was weak. Breathing hard, he rested his face against her neck, giving her soft kisses while he held her, feeling her lips against his cheek.

“See?” she whispered. “You’re not cold anymore.”

He chuckled. He felt a little trickle against his face and when he pulled back to look at her, he found tears wetting her cheeks. He wiped them away with his fingers. “Honey, you’re crying. I went crazy… Did I hurt you? Baby, I’m so sorry!”

She sniffed back the emotion and blinked her eyes closed, giving her head a little shake.

“Becca? Regrets?”

“No, that’s not it. I was afraid I’d never feel that with you again.”

“Aw, baby… I’m sorry for all my screwups.”

“Me, too. But this time we have to talk about it, Denny. All of it.”

He gave her a light kiss, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her. “We’ll talk about everything, honey. I promise.”

They vowed to talk about everything, but not right away. They held each other close, skin to skin, occasionally stroking and kissing, coming down to earth. And it was while they shared this intimate closeness that it struck Becca with utter clarity that before they fell apart three years ago, Denny had been more than a lover, he had been her best friend. Even though she was at USC and he was in San Diego, he was her ballast, her rudder. It grieved her that she obviously hadn’t been that for him when he needed it, because she relied on him completely. She talked to him everyday; she told him everything, rarely making a decision without having a conversation with him first. Even those decisions that had little to do with him, like what subject to choose for a paper she was writing.

Then his mother became ill and he began to recede from her life until suddenly he was gone.

Now she wondered, had she been doing all the talking and too little listening?

“I can’t believe you thought I had a girlfriend,” Denny said. He was still in that perfect place inside her, though in his current condition he wasn’t going to achieve much beyond the comfort of closeness.

“I can’t believe you don’t have one,” she said. “In three years?”

He shook his head and nuzzled her neck. “You had boyfriends,” he said.

“No,” she corrected. “I hardly even went out. Then I met what’s-his-name about a year ago.”

“And you came up here?” Denny asked. “I guess, I don’t get that part….”

She gave a little huff of laughter. “More about all that when we’re not all hooked up like this. I don’t want anyone else in either of our heads.” She ran her fingers over his beard-roughened cheek. “If we’re going to try this again, you and me, we have to be more honest this time. About everything.”

“Oh, we’re going to try again,” he said. “And this time we’re going to get it right. I can’t let you go now. And we’re going to be more honest, but later.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Then he moved his h*ps a little, growing inside her, filling her. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then the other corner, then her neck, then her breast. Then in a slightly desperate whisper, he said, “Please, tell me we can talk later….”

She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple. When she let out her breath, all that came with it was her whisper. “Later works.”

They only dozed through the night, their hands and lips rarely caught in slumber. When Denny wasn’t making love to her, he was holding her close, whispering to her how much he loved her, wanted her, needed her in his life. Becca’s deepest sleep came right before waking in the morning and it was in some surprise she found Denny sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed, gently pushing her hair away from her face.

She opened her eyes slowly, yawned and purred.

“Tired, baby?” he asked.

“A little tired, but not sorry. I can sleep anytime.”

His laugh was low and deep. He kissed her again. “I made you some coffee.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“It’s Monday morning and I have a job. It’s probably a good thing, too—if I could stay in bed with you for a few days, I’d wear you out. But, after a week of having company and not spending any time at the farm, some of my work has piled up. Instead of staying out there for lunch, I’ll meet you at Jack’s. How’s that?”

“That’s perfect,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’ve never felt better,” he said with a smile. “About a week of this and I still won’t be tired. But I might be dead.” He grinned at her. “There’s one thing you can tell me before I go, just to give me a little reassurance. Are you still on the pill?”

She nodded. “You’re safe.”

“I wouldn’t mind, you know. But it’s probably not a good idea to get ourselves knocked up,” he teased. Then he grew serious. “Becca, is your leg okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m just fine. I go back to the doctor on Friday. I’m sure he’ll release me to travel.” A look crossed Denny’s face immediately and she interpreted it correctly. She put a hand over his. “That doesn’t mean I have to pack up and go, Denny. I don’t have a job waiting and I don’t think I’m going to have much luck finding one while I’m on crutches. There’s time.”

He smiled at that and gave her yet another kiss. “God, I hate to leave you.”

She laughed at him. “I guess this is why there are honeymoons. Go to work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Becca was tired enough to have slept, but she couldn’t. There was something she knew she’d better do—call her mother. She might have said she’d call in a couple of days, but she had nearly hung up on her mother twice. She couldn’t let this fester. She might not always agree with her mother, but she loved her. She brought a cup of coffee to the bedside table, plugged in the phone and dialed.

“Hi, Mom,” she said. “I don’t want hard feelings between us. Especially over a guy.”

“Or guys,” Beverly said.

“You’re still angry with me,” Becca said.

Beverly sighed deeply. “I’m disappointed. I’m afraid you’ve made a decision based purely on romance, or the idea of romance, when you should be thinking long term. Practically. Because romance doesn’t last.”