to convince Greg to try to work it out with her, to go to counseling or something. If he would just give up Allison and try.... But he’d been packing as he talked. And Leslie had reached one of her all-time lowest moments—she’d clung to him and begged him not to leave their marriage. She had literally fallen to her knees and grabbed his legs. Just the thought that she’d ever risk revisiting such a place in her life was more than she could bear. She would never be brought that low again—it was humiliating. So she had come to Virgin River with a very firm resolve—she’d do without a man, and if there ever was one, he would be a man she didn’t care much about.
And yet, like one of those songs you can’t get out of your head, she kept feeling Conner’s bristly, closely trimmed whiskers on her neck. She missed him. She wanted his seduction, his power and his tenderness. She wanted laughter. She wanted to risk herself again, though it terrified her. She had fantasized about those arms around her for a week, and in each one she was wearing less. And less. And less…
She went to yoga to stretch out and then to her favorite coffee shop for her tea. He was the first thing she saw in the shop. He grinned at her, and her hand automatically touched her neck where she had felt his whiskers all week. He was seated at that little coffee table with coffee in front of him and tea in that place that would be hers. Her first thought was to wonder if it would be bad form to throw herself on him and taste his mustache.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said. “What a surprise.”
Six
Leslie walked right over to where Conner sat. “What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“What do you think?” he returned. “Hoping to run into you. How was your week?”
“Fine,” she said. “Do you expect me to believe you’re just being friendly?”
“I haven’t been anything else. I haven’t seen you all week and I thought maybe you could use a piece of pie. Or something.”
“I thought I told you—”
“Yes, you told me. You can’t eat pie and you can’t get involved and you can’t be uninvolved. That’s going to be tricky. Sit down anyway—I got you some tea and a slice of pie. It’s apple.”
“I’ve been trying to watch my weight....”
“I heard all about that. Just a taste,” he said. “I’ll eat whatever you leave. You don’t have to watch your weight, Les. You’re perfect. You’d still be perfect twenty pounds heavier, so don’t punish yourself.” He shook out a paper napkin, slid forward on his chair, put a small bite on the end of a fork and held it toward her. “Come on. I’ve given you a week to stew and now it’s time to sort it out. With pie.”
She wondered if this was a good idea, but with a fork of apple pie hovering at her lips, she let him feed her. It wasn’t the pie that tempted her.
“It’s been an interesting week,” he said. “I worked in town some with Dan and Paul and some others, getting that school building up. Everyone who worked on that project did it without pay. It’s been a long time since I did anything like that—volunteer work. Community service. Felt good. And I drove by your house a couple of times to see how the flowers were holding up—I’d say we did a damn fine job on the yard.” He took a sip of his coffee. “If you’re not planning to plant the back forty tomorrow, I think we should grab a movie and dinner. I helped out on that school today and they’re going to be there again tomorrow but I could use a day off.”
The student seated behind Conner snapped closed his laptop and tucked it under his arm to leave.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to tempt fate....”
“Fate? No. Just you.”
“Oh, that was blunt,” she said.
“I know, I’m bad that way. Sometimes I’m too honest. It can make people uncomfortable. I didn’t really mean what you think, Les. I understand some of your worries. They’re an awful lot like mine. I haven’t asked a woman out on a date of any kind for a long, long time. I haven’t even asked for a phone number or bought one a drink. I just didn’t want to—as