Redwood Bend

how many planes he had and they stopped just short of asking what his bank balance was. But about his best friend? His barn? His town? Was it like this just because Katie Malone didn’t really know a thing about him?
He found himself talking and talking. He loved telling about how his grandmother took charge and found a place off the grid for them to live while he struggled to enter adulthood; about Lang and Sue Ann; about going to high school in Payne, college in the Prescott mountains. He told her about the girl he took to the senior prom, and had her laughing when he told the story of Lang falling for Mrs. Lang and how Sue Ann pinned his ears back and just wouldn’t take any of his big-city, playboy crap.
Then he asked her all about growing up in a hardware store, asked what kind of high school experience she had. “I’d like to teach while my kids are in school. It would be perfect for me. I’m sorry about the store, of course, but teaching and coaching girls’ athletics—that’s more me.” Then she grinned and said, “As long as I stay on the ground, I guess.”
Even though they lingered a long time over their dinner, it was still early evening when they headed for Virgin River. He took her off the road just long enough to view the sunset over the Pacific, then on to the little town, to her cabin.
He’d never felt closer to a woman in his adult life.
And then they were standing there, in front of that little cabin. All around them in the darkness were the noises of the forest, the crickets and squawks and occasional rustling sounds, but Katie just stood on the first step of the porch, looking into his burning blue eyes. He gently touched her cheek and the line of her jaw. He kissed the left corner of her mouth, then the right.
“This is going to be goodbye, I guess,” she said.
“That would probably be for the best,” he said. “You don’t want to get mixed up with me. You don’t want to put your boys through that…”
“Dylan, understand something—I will always take care of my kids first. Always. If I thought being around you was bad for them in any way… They’re first, that’s all. I could love you more than life itself and they would still be first. It’s a commitment a mother makes when she has children. And besides, I’m not so sure you’re bad for them. You’re a very nice guy.”
“But I should probably get out of here…” And he touched her lips again, more seriously. He covered her mouth in a hot, demanding kiss that robbed her of breath. “Unless…” And he kissed her some more.
“Unless…?” she asked weakly.
“Unless you want me to stay for a couple of hours…and make sure you never forget me.”
“Hmm,” she said, leaning toward him for more of his mouth. “Tempting. But unnecessary. I’ll never forget you, Dylan. I’ve had a very fun couple of weeks. Thank you.”
“Katie, Katie…I hate to leave you…”
“I understand, Dylan. You have things to take care of. And besides, I don’t want to have the best sex of my life with a guy who’s on his way out of town… Just kiss me some more and then tonight I’ll imagine it.”
“When you imagine it, multiply it times ten…” He went after her lips again. He pulled her hard against him and slid a hand up her side to briefly cover her breast. He feasted on her neck, jaw, ear, temple, mouth, then just held her still and close.
“Times a hundred,” she whispered.
They were locked on each other for another five minutes and she was the one to pull back. “I could do this forever, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself and cry. If you’re going, you should go while I still have some dignity.”
Dignity he understood. He backed off a bit and gave a nod. “I’ll think of you as the best part of my summer, Katie,” he said.
“I hope you can save the company,” she said. “And thank you for making me feel so special.”
He gave her waist a squeeze. “You are special. Don’t you ever forget that.”
And he turned from her, going to his bike.

Eight

S he hurried into the cabin because her breath had started coming in little gasps and in a second she knew she was going to fall apart. Inside, she paced in the small space, plunging her hand into her hair and making small whimpering sounds. Why, why, why couldn’t things be different? she asked herself.
Oh, she was going to cry all night, she knew it. She was flat-ass bonkers over him and did not feel better off this way. But he was probably