Snow Plowed Page 4

  She wipes her cheeks with the other mittened hand. Oh, god. She’s crying.

  I should…I should do something. No, idiot, you shouldn’t. Or you’ll be found out.

  She can think what she wants to think, I need to go to her.

  It’s a foregone conclusion. She needs someone, and that’s going to be me.

  Chapter 4

  Ruby

  * * *

  As I’m looking down at the ground, I see a pair of big male legs approach. And then I see hiking boots.

  Aidan.

  I look up and wipe my face, embarrassed that he’s seeing me cry.

  “Aidan, what are you doing here?” I say, my voice choked.

  He answers not with words but with those big arms.

  We just met. We don’t have a hugging relationship. I’ve already been hugged by about 15 people today because this is the town of Christmas, at Christmastime. The hugging is a foregone conclusion with everyone at this point.

  Still, I don’t pull away. I do need a great big man hug right now. Not a flirting hug, not a cop-a-feel kind of hug.

  “I saw you crying and I thought you needed…”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say with a watery sob into his coat, interrupting it because I don’t want him to ruin the moment.

  I need this hug and I don’t want us to start bickering.

  I unclench my shoulders and let Aidan take the weight of me against him. His arms grasp me a little tighter, and it squeezes out a couple more sobs. Once in a while, I live in the moment and this is one of those moments. I’ve needed this kind of hug for a long time and now here it is. Take it in, Ruby.

  Another squeeze, his hands on my back, and I’m crying fresh tears. My body jerks again in a heaving sob.

  I don’t know how long we stand there like that in the cold, me soaking his brand new winter coat with all my various eyes and nose leakage, but I could get used to the sensation of this particular man’s arms around me. He’s good at this. Alternating squeezing with pats and strokes and gentle sways. I’m an expert hugger, but he’s a gold medalist in it.

  “Thank you,” I say, wiping my face. “I’m OK. You must be freezing.”

  “You are not OK. What do you need?”

  I’m a little baffled by this question. As much as people seem to love me around here, people don’t ask me that. I’m the one who takes care of everyone.

  “Nothing. I’m just sad. One of my favorite residents just passed away overnight. We knew it was coming for a long time, but she was such a sweetheart and I’m going to miss her. Oh god, what’s wrong with me? You must be freezing your chicken nuggets off out here.”

  Aidan laughs. “You gotta stop talking about my nuggets. They’re fine.”

  This makes me laugh unexpectedly. “See, all I do is care about other people.”

  His mittened hand wipes a tear away from my cheek and his face is so tender, I might start to cry all over again.

  “You’re done for today though, right? You want to go grab some soup from the diner?”

  I nod my head. And then it hits me.

  “Wait a minute. How did you know this was my last stop of the day?”

  He’s been following me, that’s the real answer, and I don’t expect him to say it. I’m expecting him to make up excuses. But then he spills the truth, and it takes my breath away.

  His face that was full of worry for me a minute ago now changes to a no-fucks-left-to-give, wide-open expression of someone ready to take the plunge and fall flat on his face. “I followed you.”

  I shake my head and whisper. “Aidan. This is so inappropriate.”

  In the bright sunlight bouncing off the snow, I can see coppery flecks in his determined brown eyes. “Let me finish. I followed you because I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I like you. I like everything about you and I wanted to see you. I watched you take that tin of cookies from the hospital and I snapped a picture.”

  “You what?!”

  “I know!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air like he’s surprised himself. He’s smiling sort of maniacally like he surprised even himself. “I can’t explain why I’m doing what I’m doing. But it’s a fucking beautiful picture. I know it’s wrong, but the minute I saw you in the diner yesterday, I felt like I was floating. I just have this need to be near you. And now I’ve crossed the line. I know it, and I’m sorry.”

  All I can do is stare and blink at him. “You’ve got the world at your beck and call and somehow I’m the most irresistible subject for a photo?”

  He nods. “I’m shocked that you don’t see it.”

  “Even if that’s true, I still want you to delete the photo,” I say.

  Aidan looks at the ground and winces. “Well, the problem there is that I don’t use digital so I can’t just delete it. And I won’t destroy a whole roll of film. But I can promise not to use it until you tell me it’s OK.”

  I shake my head. “What makes you think it’s ever going to be OK? Why can’t you just respect my boundaries?”

  Rubbing his no-doubt freezing face with his thick gloves in frustration, he replies, “I know it’s fucked up, but I don’t want any boundaries between us.”

  All of this should be sending off alarm bells. I know this. But I hear nothing but cars going by on the highway. I should sense a big red flag right now, but all I see is someone who, if he is a creep, he’s a super-famous, fairly intelligent creep, who has to know that the townsfolk would string him up by his testicles if they knew he took my photo without my consent. And if he knows all this, he’s either a psychopath or just a guy thinking with his dick.

  I don’t make any excuses for him thinking with his dick.

  And yet…

  My body is responding to all this attention in ways I can’t control. He’s annoying, cocky, and becoming pushier by the minute…but other feelings are elbowing their way to the forefront and I can’t keep ignoring it.

  My ego is enjoying this attention. My lips want to be kissed. And my sex just wants to have some fun, for once.

  He’ll be long gone back to LA before there’s time for him to ruin your life. Live your life. Just like you do on your bi-annual trips with Anna. Let go. He’s handing himself to you on a plate and there are slim pickings in Christmas, Michigan.

  Then my cautious brain butts in again and logic takes hold. I need to think. I need space. I need to make a pro-con list of a one-night stand. Or a fling. Or whatever it is that he wants.

  “I’m sorry, Aidan. I don’t do flings. It sounds terribly romantic and sexy and very tempting, but I can’t do this. I have to protect my heart.”

  “But…” he starts. “That’s not what I want. I just can’t stay away from you. I don’t know what this means but maybe let’s see where this goes?”

  I nibble on the inside of my bottom lip and stare at him. The way this man would throw me around on the bed with those arms, those shoulders. I swear. And don’t even get me started on what those lips might do to me.

  It kills me, but I have to say it.

  “I’m sorry, Aidan. I have to go.”

  Chapter 5

  Aidan

  * * *

  “That’s four gallons of chicken noodle soup?” Polly at the diner smirks as she rings up my order.

  “That should get me through a few days, right?” I ask her. It’s four days before Christmas, and there’s a big snowstorm headed this way. It’s been a couple of weeks since I spoke to Ruby that day in the parking lot. I’m trying to respect her boundaries. I need to let her come to me; I see that now. Still, I find myself buying way too much chicken noodle soup, in hopes that I’ll have some company to help me eat it.

  Polly laughs. “That should get you and five people through until Christmas. I threw in some sides and some bread for you too. Go get you some beer from the corner store and you should be all set.”

  I have no idea how to prepare for a snowstorm. Back home in LA, I mostly just order food when I’m hungry through a delivery service;
I’ve never actually had to stock my fridge. Since I’m meant to stay through Christmas Day to catch shots of Christmas dinners, carolers, and Christmas Eve candlelight church services, I have to be prepared.

  Back at the rental bungalow, I get a call from Brody while I’m trying to light a fire in the fireplace.

  “Brody, what’s up? You’re not working, are you? I thought I gave you the week of Christmas off.”

  Brody likes to work and rack up overtime, but I’d told him to make sure he took some time off this week. Guess he didn’t listen, because when he speaks, I can tell from the quality of the echo that he’s definitely at the studio.

  “I got nowhere to go. So I’m working on developing some of that film you sent.”

  “Good,” I say, wondering why he’s calling.

  “Hey, can I talk to you about this Christmas bonus?”

  And there it is.

  “Sure,” I say, examining a bellows, trying to determine if it’s real or for decoration.

  “It’s just that I’m gonna need more than that.”

  I set the bellows down on the stone hearth. “How much more?”

  The truth is, I’d given Brody a holiday bonus that represented almost 25 percent of his total projected wages for the year.

  He rattles off a number that’s almost double what I’d already given him. Just says it, as if he’s simply asking to cut out of work early for a dentist appointment and not asking for a bonus that amounts to half a year’s earnings for him.

  I stand up slowly and steady myself on the mantle. “Something going on you need to tell me about?”

  I could tell from the tone of Brody’s voice he was in some kind of trouble. As his boss, however, I had to be careful not to pry into his personal life.

  “I owe a guy some money.”

  I press the pads of my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids, hoping maybe the pressure will cause a tear in the space and time continuum and make it so this conversation never happened.

  “What guy?”

  Brody sighs on the other end. “I kinda forgot I was supposed to cut a guy into my tabloid profits from those photos I shot a couple of years back that got me in trouble. Remember those?”

  How could I forget? “Uh, yeah, I remember.”

  He continues. “Well, this guy was the one who tipped me off to the location, so I agreed to cut him in when I sold the photos. That money’s gone and now he’s asking for his money.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window as the snow starts to blanket the street outside. “So tell him you don’t have the money. That money went to pay for the lawyer. If anything, he owes you money for your legal feels you’re still paying off.”

  Brody laughs, but not in a holly-jolly-Christmas kind of way. “Dude. I told him. Problem is, he isn’t taking kindly to that answer. But he says if I manage to snag some other really juicy photos and give him a percentage, he’ll back off.”

  I am having some serious second thoughts about hiring this guy. But I’m also not going to fire him at Christmastime.

  “Listen,” I say. “I don’t have that much cash laying around to double your bonus. Also, I can’t tell you what to do on your own time, but if you do anything illegal again, like trespassing, you won’t have a job with me anymore. I strongly encourage you not to do this, and when I come back to LA we can discuss giving you a raise if that will help.”

  “But—”

  “Bye, Brody.” I hang up before he can try to argue his case any further. I’m tired, cold, surly, lonely, and ridiculously horny. And I’m kicking myself now for hiring the guy.

  Moments later I’ve managed to successfully light a fire and not smoke myself out. The soup stowed away in the fridge, devices charged up, I should be ready in case the power goes out. Does the power go out in snowstorms, normally? I have no idea.

  I lie down on top of some blankets on the sofa and stare at the fire. I could use this time to catch up on my streaming TV episodes, but I don’t feel up to it. I just want to lay here and stare at the wall and think about Ruby.

  I really shouldn’t judge Brody too harshly.

  It’s not as if I’m any better than he is. Sure, he might occasionally trespass on private property, or just generally be an obnoxious twit toward celebrities while in public places. But what is it, exactly, that I’ve been doing lately?

  When I say I’ve been respecting Ruby’s boundaries, it’s only the partial truth. I’ve been waiting for her to come to me, and so far, no luck.

  No, I haven’t snapped her photograph. But have I perhaps been following her, just a little bit? Yeah. I can only take so many photographs of toy drives, kids waiting in line to see Santa, and the mayor’s elaborately decorated historical house. My days are not that busy, and I justified my behavior as making sure Ruby, who works alone all day, driving all over hell’s half-acre, is safe. God, I’m starting to talk and think like these people now.

  Maybe I’ll drift off to sleep, and stay asleep until I can wake up and see her again. Maybe if I make a Christmas wish, she’ll let her guard down and come to me.

  Every time I close my eyes I see her smile, her gorgeous pink lips. The shy way she looks down when I pay her a compliment. My hands itch with the need to cup her face, my lips long to kiss her, my brain wants to verbally spar with her all day long, and my body…

  Fuck.

  Under the blankets, I slide my hand over my abdomen, my eyes watching the plump snowflakes pelting the panes of the window that looks out over my driveway. Tiny drifts accumulate on the sill as I run my hand up over the ridges of my stomach and chest. I’ve been here less than a month, but I think the local food has already helped me pack on a couple of extra pounds. Not that I’m complaining. It’s been ages since I treated myself to a proper milkshake and hot chocolate.

  The sun is going down, the dark grey sky and the gentle slushing of the snow outside, combined with the crackle of the fireplace, enhances all my senses.

  I sigh and close my eyes, letting my hand drift down the front of my track pants, rubbing over the top of my briefs. I wish it was her touching me, whispering in my ear with her sweet mouth.

  What kind of way would she touch me, I wonder. What kind of way would she kiss me with those full lips, the sheen of lip balm that catches the light and makes them sparkle in the winter sunshine.

  My hand slides down inside my drawers and I adjust my aching cock, stroking up the underside of it. A needful grunt escapes my lips.

  Usually, a quick jerk off doesn’t involve a lot of noise from me. Ruby’s broken me, she’s wrecked everything normal and straightforward for me.

  The heated pulses in my erection demand attention. Get it over with. No sense in delicious torture if the end result is that I’m alone with a flaccid member and no one to wrap up in my arms.

  With her in my thoughts, my brain develops a vivid fantasy of this woman, naked under the blankets with me, our shared heat keeping our bodies warm. Our mouths savoring each other, alternating between passion and playfulness.

  Would she take me into her mouth? Would she look at me while she does it? Would she…would she swallow it? God, that’s a disgusting thing to expect of her. Most importantly, would she let me taste the source of her pretty scent? Probe her with my tongue, memorizing every inch of her?

  A perspiration forms on my forehead as the strokes under my cock become a rhythm. It feels good but not great. Not as great as it could be, with a connection to her.

  I grit my teeth, determined to get this over with and go to sleep. With any luck, I’ll sleep right through this fucking snowstorm. Then I’ll have a real reason for her to come over with that goddamn snowplow and—

  The soft knock on the front door startles me out of my twilight dream. I quietly cuss and, after putting my cock away, consider putting on a shirt for my neighbor’s benefit.

  I decide against it. I make my way to the door, thinking Barb or Ellison has either terrible or perfect timing.

  I’m no
t ready for who’s at the door. And I’m definitely not fucking ready for what she has to say to me.

  Chapter 6

  Ruby

  * * *

  What am I doing here?

  This is crazy. I should just go home.

  My mittened hand stills an inch away from the wooden front door of his house.

  What did I do to get myself to this point, I ask myself. I go over the events of the past few minutes. I drove my snowplow home instead of leaving it in the garage at SugarPlum snow removal, so I’d be ready to hop into the truck and begin digging people out of the snow as soon as the storm was over. Most likely the snow would be so high I wouldn’t be able to get my car out of the garage, and walking to work like I usually do might be too much, too. There was no telling if I’d have to trudge through snowdrifts.

  That doesn’t explain why you didn’t just drive your truck here to Aidan’s house.

  Come on, Ruby. You know you didn’t park your truck here because you wouldn’t want to advertise the fact that you were here. Alone with the hot photographer.

  I softly rap my knuckles against the wood and chew on my lips. My cheeks are numb from the snow and light wind on the two-block walk over here. I hope he doesn’t take too long to answer.

  My wool mittens muffled the noise, maybe I should knock again.

  Just when I’m considering the idea of knocking a second time, the door opens.

  I suck in my breath.

  Aidan stands there shirtless, the only barrier to the cold being a pair of loose track pants, the kind that swish when you walk.

  “Hi.”

  He’s trying hard not to grin like a man who’s just won the lottery. “Hello, Ruby.”

  Oh my god, if I was not freezing my ass off right now I could smack that self-satisfied look off his face, at the same time my undies explode right off my body because of the way he says my name.

  “I was wondering if you had any more of that fancy hot chocolate.”