Second Chance Pass. Робин Карр

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      There was a man on Vanessa’s mind, he was the reason she’d found herself imploring Matt for help and blessings. Matt’s best friend; her best friend. Paul.

      He spent months in Virgin River, supporting and comforting her, spending Christmas away from his parents, brothers and their families. They spent a lot of time talking about Matt; crying about Matt, lost in hours of sentimental remembering. Without Paul’s strength, she’d never have gotten through the worst of it. He was her rock.

      Her relationship with Paul went back much further, of course. It wasn’t as though they became friends because of Matt’s death. In fact, that night long ago when she met Matt, it had been Paul across the room who’d first caught her eye. He was so tall, his legs so long and hands so big, it was hard for him not to stand out in a crowd. There was that willful, sandy hair that had to be kept short because it would defy any kind of styling. Not that Paul was the kind of man to fuss with his hair—it was obvious even from a distance that he stuck to basics. It was his masculinity she noticed; he looked like a lumberjack who’d cleaned up to go into town. He had an engaging smile; one tooth in front was just a little crooked and he had a dimple on the left cheek. Heavy brown brows, deep chocolate eyes—details she discovered a bit later, of course. She hadn’t even noticed Matt…

      But it was Matt who put the rush on her, swept her off her feet, made her laugh, made her blush. While Paul hung back, shy and silent, Matt charmed her to her very bones. And shortly after the charm, he made her desire him madly, love him deeply. He was hardly a consolation prize—he was one of the best men in the world. And a devoted husband, so in love with her.

      She loved Paul before Matt’s death, grew to love him more deeply afterward. When little Mattie was born, she said to Paul, “I will never love anyone but Matt.” But as the weeks passed she realized that she didn’t have to stop loving Matt any more than Paul should. Matt would be with them both forever. And it was like the natural order of things that Paul should step in now. But there was no indication from him that he felt anything more than a special friendship. She had no doubt that Paul loved her, loved little Matt, but it didn’t appear to be the kind of love that could warm her on cold nights.

      She’d called him several times since he’d returned to Grants Pass; polite and entertaining conversations about the baby, the town and his friends here, about her dad and brother, even sometimes about Matt.

      “The baby’s gained a pound and a half already,” she told him. “He’s already changed so much.”

      “Who does he look like?” Paul asked. “Is his hair still dark or does he have a patch of fire on his head, like his mom?”

      “Still just a little Matt,” she said. “I want you to see him. Hold him.” Hold me!

      “I’ll have to try to get down there.”

      He hadn’t visited yet. And he never betrayed any longing. Not a whiff of desire came through those phone lines.

      She felt like a fool for even wanting him. But there was no denying it—she missed him so much. And not the way a young widow misses having a man in her life. The way a woman longs for a man who stirs her, moves her.