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.”
“You think?” 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 the woodpile. 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 saying luggage before 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 not that fancy,” 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.”
“Wow,” I chuckled. “Cute and handsome? You wanna move in with me permanently?”
As soon as I said it, I noticed his grin fade fast. I’d pushed and said what my heart felt, not what a sensible mind should’ve filtered. I was embarrassed now and walked to the fridge, opening it and leaning in.
“Are we flirting?” he said from across the room, pulling out a chair and sitting at the same table I’d witnessed my love life ending at a year before. “I seriously lack experience in these situations and tend to speak too honestly without thinking.”
“Would it be so wrong if we were flirting?” I asked, popping the cap off two beers and sitting across from him. I pushed one closer to him, hoping he’d look at me. “And I’m out of practice,” I admitted.
“Well, that’s a frickin’ lie. Like you, I have zero practice or experience, to be honest.”
We were silent, and each took a swig of the beer.
He was very attractive when he was pensive.
His studious look made me think he was going to choose his words more carefully from then on, which disappointed me for some reason.
I’d hoped the banter would continue and we wouldn’t let caution ruin our fun.
Van cleared his throat and sat straighter in his chair. “I think you’re him,” he said. “If you think I’m nuts, then I’m okay with that, but I do.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “And who am I?”
He swallowed hard, stirring in his chair while he twisted his beer bottle in his hand.
“This is where Evan would say I was insane,” he began.
“Evan was my partner. He broke up with me last Christmas. Anyway, I tend to imagine life to be full of unspoken opportunities and surprises. I want to believe we can manifest wonderful things for ourselves when we are open to accepting messages from the universe. That was until my life was turned upside down.”
“And this Evan,” I began. “Was he supportive of your openness to these… um… messages?”
Van laughed dismissively. “I wish,” he replied. “He thought it was childish and unattractive for a grown man to speak of such things.”
I studied Van’s body language, wondering if he was going to dump on his ex.
I’d had plenty of reasons to be pissed at John and do the same.
However, my anger had faded with the nice memories I kept of him.
I’d certainly imagined all the awful shit I’d say to him, given the chance I’d see him again, but still hoped Van wouldn’t be vindictive about his ex.
I waited for Van to expound on his ex’s viewpoint, wondering if he was trapped in anger or wanted revenge. What Van said next could go a long way in identifying qualities he might possess or lack.
“We got sidetracked,” I said. “Tell me why your ex would think you were childish or strange.”
“Because I can be. I think. Sometimes,” he admitted. “I guess I wasn’t enough for Evan. And frankly, why blame him for choosing a different path? He has the right to be happy just like I do.”
“You have a refreshing attitude,” I complimented. “I, for one, admire your ability to share what you believe without giving a shit how others might judge you.”
“I’ve decided to live the way I want to now. And I’m hoping someone can appreciate the dreamer side of me,” he said. “But I won’t lie. Being replaced hurt. So after a yearlong pity party, I made the decision to shake up my life. I needed a change after my confidence was shattered.”
Van was direct. I liked direct as far as people went. Other than hurting him, he didn’t make excuses or blame his ex. I could totally relate to the feeling.
“So, you claimed a moment ago that I was him. Are you comparing me to this Evan person?”
“Oh god, no!” he exclaimed. “I meant I recently received a message to make a change in my circumstances. The message was clear. If I wanted change, I had to take steps to allow myself to change.” He looked around the kitchen. “And this is where I took that message.”
“You took it here?” He nodded. “To Missile, or to this cabin?” I pushed.
He stood and moved to the sink, looking out the back window into the darkness. “This will sound shallow,” he began. “I combined a job search with a man search.” He turned to face me. “I think you’re the man I was supposed to meet.”
A couple of hours prior to this moment, I was throwing caution to the wind.
What would it hurt to flirt with the attractive stranger?
If we had fun and wound up in bed, so be it.
He was hot, and I was horny. What I hadn’t planned on was a statement like he’d just delivered. My face must’ve given my alarm away.
“Wow. That is certainly a lot,” I said, grabbing my beer and reassessing the situation. His revelation found me wondering if I may have invited a crazy person into my home.
He studied me closely while I stared at him. Even after doing my best to act nonplussed, I recognized he saw my reluctance to buy in. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”
“No. Of course not,” I reassured. “For one, I’d never refer to someone as nuts. At least not to their face,” I joked.
My lame attempt at a joke landed poorly.
His happy-go-lucky expression suddenly disappeared, replaced by the look of someone experiencing a familiar hurt.
I think his sharing his inner thoughts and beliefs with a total stranger became real after he spoke them.
Perhaps he assumed I thought he was a bit off, like his ex-partner believed him to be.
Whatever the assumptions, we were now in a very uncomfortable situation.
There was a huge storm outside, and he’d just revealed a belief I found unusual and premature.
The sad thing was that a few minutes before that, I was willing to flirt and throw caution to the wind because he was hot, and I was pretending to be open to making a change myself.
When in fact, I was as hurt and lost as he seemed to be.
Candidly, I was slightly unnerved by his disclosure.
I didn’t know this guy, and could be stuck with him for a day or even a week.
I stood and made my way to the fireplace.
I felt his eyes burning through my back even if I couldn’t see him.
After tossing more wood on the fire, I turned to face him, trying hard to come up with something to salvage the evening.
Van spoke before I could form words. “Sorry,” he said, sounding distant. “May I shower and borrow something to sleep in?”
The tension was thick in the air. His unique way of appearing breezy and fun had disappeared. I instantly knew I’d wounded him.
“Please don’t apologize,” I replied, feeling like crap. “Lemme grab something clean from my bedroom.”
I went to the bedroom, feeling awful about the change in mood. When I returned with some old sweats and a Montana Grizzly T-shirt, he was already in the shower. I stepped through the open door and placed the clothing on the toilet seat under a towel he’d located.
As hard as I tried not to, I glanced through the glass door at his naked body, his backside facing me. I was wrong to linger and gawk, but I was frozen in place. His clothing had hidden his incredible physique, but now his back, ass, and legs were on full display.
He had a well-defined, V-shaped back that tapered to a narrow waist. Surprisingly broad shoulders for a lean man.
His legs were smooth, with runner’s muscles clearly defined.
But it was the pair of perfect twin globes of an ass that riveted me.
I was definitely an ass man, and here was the Holy Grail of asses.
No man, especially one blessed with a face like his, should also have a body that had apparently won the DNA lottery of extraordinary builds. I shuddered at the sight of water cascading down the valley of his spine, disappearing into his ass crack.
What I’d give for him to turn around so I could view the total package. My dominant sense of taking ownership reared its possessive head as I ran my tongue across my lips, my cock swelling in my jeans.
I wanted to have filthy sex with this man and was hot to strip down and force him to suck my dick in the shower. I imagined spreading his cheeks and tongue fucking him until he begged me to fill him up with my manhood.
And then reality brought me back to earth.
I thought about our conversation five minutes ago in the kitchen.
He thought he was here because of a message from the universe.
Would a casual roll in the hay confuse him?
Would it be safe to fuck around for a few days with no strings if he truly believed I was his destiny?
After more continued ogling, testing my ability to resist the draw of his ass, I went back to his admitting he thought I was the man in his vision.
What if he was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs? I swallowed my libido and backed out of the bathroom.
My brain hadn’t relayed the message to my raging erection that I wouldn’t be fucking him tonight, so there I was, alone in the living room, wondering what to do with my dick.