Maybe I should have gotten the damn thing for him. I could have made him eat it with a salad on the side.
It bothered me knowing that the roads would be impassable soon. I had an old snowmobile. If he ran into trouble, I could take it over to his place, but it would be hard to get him on the back of it if I needed to take him somewhere.
It sucked that the nearest hospital was in Fernwood. I definitely couldn’t take him that far on the back of a snowmobile.
I gritted my teeth, then blew out a deep breath.
I was fretting over my uncle like a fucking mother hen. And it wouldn’t solve any problems. All I was doing was freaking myself out.
He’s going to be fine. He will.
The knot in my chest tightened. I had an appointment next week to get a full physical and bloodwork done.
We were kin, and life had been a series of steak and potatoes, washed down by a cool brew.
But all of that was different now that I’d seen the consequences of that lifestyle. Lately I’d been learning to cook vegetables.
I think it was the cabbage that threw him over the edge.
A small grin popped up on my lips while I thought about it. I’d boiled an entire head, cut it in half and served it to both of us.
It had tasted nasty, nasty, nasty. And then Rod’s whole place had smelled like old farts, even though it wasn’t us farting. I chuckled at the memory.
Maybe I’ll call him and promise not to make him eat cabbage ever again.
Right then, there was a knock on my door.
That was odd as hell because it was six p.m.
The postman came earlier in the day, and I didn’t have company here. Ever.
I lived too deep in the mountains for that, remote even by Red Oak Mountain standards.
Grabbing my shotgun, I strode to the door and swung it open.
“You!”I grunted in surprise. “How are you here? What the fuck?”
The pretty elf had started singing a Christmas song, but she stopped now, her voice faltering as she looked up at me.
It was the woman from the sleigh ride, Chloe.
Andwhatwas she wearing?
My cock rose from its deep slumber and stirred to life.
Her costume was two sizes too small, her ample breasts valiantly attempting to stay contained. And the bottom of the elf skirt was teeny, tiny and too short for church. Miles of thigh were on display, perfectly highlighted by the sexiest candy cane thigh-highs I’d ever seen in my life.
Last time I’d seen her, she’d been bundled up in a sweater, a coat and a pair of jeans.
Christmas came early this year.
I licked my lips, a Pavlovian response to the sight before me.
But then my senses came back. I steered my eyes up to her face and asked again, “Chloe, what are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?”
“I—I didn’t.”
My lips curled up into a grin. I’d been thinking about her ever since that night a few weeks ago. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
