Christmas Eve was soon enough. I should wait until then. Prove I could get through tonight without seeing her.
She hadn’t been going to invite me until I had called. I would continue to be there for her in the way she needed me to be. “Thanks, but I’ll stay in. You can feed me after I dig you out.”
I could only be strong so long.
“Deal. I’ll keep some in the fridge so I can cook while you’re working.”
Once the last flake fell, I’d be there.
Clover
* * *
It ended up snowing closer to ten inches, but the temperature climbed high enough once the storm passed that much of it was already melting. Which also meant the snow was heavier.
I peered out the living room window. Van was outside, carving a path from my parking spot to the road. He’d already cleared the sidewalk and the steps.
I had meatballs and sauce warming on the stove. I’d cook the pasta as soon as he was done, and I had brownies in the oven. Honestly, I was so damn glad not to have to shovel, I’d make him anything. I’d give him a blow job.
Who was I kidding? I’d do that anyway. My hormones were going wilder than when I was in my first trimester. It was Bean’s fault I was this bothered watching a man with every inch of skin covered do manual labor in my front yard. He was in black snow pants and a black winter coat. His gloves were black with red panels, and he’d pulled his black hat down low. Van looked like the most sinister snow removal service ever, and it was a bigger turn-on than I could’ve anticipated.
He paused and propped a hand on the shovel handle, surveying his work. From my post in the living room, I could see his chest heaving. Those muscles I used to be able to have my hands on were getting a workout, and it wasn’t from me.
He carefully leaned the shovel against my car and took his gloves off. Then he shrugged out of his winter coat. I stayed riveted to the cool glass as if he was stripping all his layers off.
Need ripped through me until I half gasped, half cried. He wasn’t mine anymore.
He never was. We’d had an arrangement, and I had to be able to leave that behind. I could do this.
He tossed his coat onto the hood of my car, hitched up his snow pants, put his gloves back on, and continued shoveling. And I continued staring out the window, my breasts heavy and desire pooling between my legs.
Ugh, I had it bad.
What would be the harm?
A Van who was free to go anywhere and do anything once his business took off. The company I wasn’t going to stand in the way of.
Van’s job would take off. I’d have a broken heart.
The oven beeped, and I left my post. He had to have seen me gawking at him like the worst stalker in the world.
Was he going to Bismarck for Pokémon tournaments? He hadn’t said, but then why would he? Wanting to keep him wasn’t the same as being his keeper.
Was he meeting new people? New women?
None of my business.
I took the brownies out and forced myself to stay away from the window. I could do this. I could be friends with Van. He was Bean’s uncle. We were family.
The sour taste in my mouth wouldn’t go away, so I dug out a glass of milk.
The front door opened. “You are now free to leave your property,” Van called from the entry.
I rushed out like I couldn’t miss one second of him in my place. His hat and gloves were off, and his jacket was already hung up next to mine. I took a mental snapshot for my wishful-thinking folder. He stomped snow off his boots, toed out of them, and shucked his snow pants.
When he saw me, he grinned. “I’ll try not to get your floor wet.”
“For all the work you did, I’ll forgive you if you do.”
