Page 28 of Missile Tow
“Sounds like something that might happen at Christmas,” I added.
“To two men born on Christmas?” he asked.
“There has to be a reason,” I agreed, letting Pooch rest his head on my lap.
Chip noticed Pooch nudging my hand for more love. A look of recognition crossed his face. I had the feeling I was sitting in a seat once occupied by his lost love.
With that, we pulled onto the snow-covered road, and he took a left at the only stop sign in town. What was at the end of the road ahead? What would I discover when we got there?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Chip
After nearly a year of coming home to an empty cabin, having another person in my home was nice. Yes, my guest was a total stranger to me an hour ago, but I felt something important was happening concerning his arrival. Why else would I lose all inhibition and invite him into my home?Because you’re horny and he’s smokin’ hot.
Besides raving about the wooded location, Van absolutely loved the oversized fireplace in the rustic cabin, insisting on helping me haul more wood inside from the shed near the river.
“You get to live like this year-round?” he asked, holding his arms out straight in front of him as I loaded a few pieces of dry wood on them. “It’s like camping in the forest every day.”
“Probably less glamorous if you did the chores with me all the time.”
“You probably don’t think I’m the type who likes the outdoors, but I do,” he pointed out. “Well,” he reconsidered. “You’d be right about my lack of experience in the outdoors if you questioned me too closely, but I think I’d like it if I lived this way.”
“Youthink?” I teased, touching his chin to remove a tiny piece of wood debris. “Sometimes, owning a cabin in the woods is a pain in the ass.”
His cheeks were rosy from the cold, but he never lost his enthusiasm to help. We made several trips back and forth to thewoodpile. I mentioned we might be snowed in the next day, and I’d be forced to keep the mercantile closed, so we’d need plenty of wood.
“I’m stronger than I look,” he stated. “So don’t underestimate me, mister.”
I added another log to his arms and laughed. “Yes, sir!” I exclaimed.
After we’d filled the bin next to the fireplace, we stripped off the coats I’d supplied us from the mudroom. Van wore a pair of rubber boots I’d had, and his designer jeans were rolled up above them and looked out of place.
“Oh shit! Guess what we forgot?” I asked, suddenly aware of an absent-minded mistake we’d made back at the store.
“The chicken?”
“Oh, shit again! That too. And something else,” I added, staring at his wet jeans and socks.
The cute way he had of scrunching his nose happened again. “You got me. What?”
“The luggage I saw in your rig,” I replied.
I barely finished sayingluggagebefore he spoke. “Oh no,” he muttered, sizing me up like he was a tailor. “And I’m cold and wet.”
I turned and headed into the kitchen, with him right behind. “My stuff ain’t as fancy as yours,” I warned, noting he’d checked me out for what I assumed was size comparisons.
“I’m notthatfancy,” he disagreed. “I have old stuff I like lying around in.” Perhaps my frown was a clue, or his brain caught up with his assumptions, but he knew he’d misspoke. “I just sounded elitist, didn’t I?”
I smiled at him. “Are you elitist?” I inquired.
“Probably,” he confessed. “I don’t want to be, though.”
“I’d say you’re most likely more cultured than us country folks,” I said, trying to ease his mind. “But I do clean up real nice when I need to.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I really am trying to be more conscious of how I come across to others. I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“What I noticed is a kind person who seems thoughtful and sweet,” I said. “Sure, you look like a million bucks, but that’s because we don’t get many men who look as stylish as you do. I, for one, like it.”
“And don’t forget, I said you were cute,” he quipped. “And handsome.”
