CHAPTER FIFTEEN Chip #2
There was an unspoken connection I felt when his hands squeezed mine.
Tenderness and a desire to care for this man invaded my heart.
Van’s softness, yet very male boyishness, fascinated me.
Both strength and vulnerability emanated from him.
He was warm and outgoing, while also seeming to need assurance.
How I knew that about him was impossible to say.
Perhaps I saw myself in his approach to people.
I sensed he was a man, like me, who hated to be seen as someone else’s problem.
Unfortunately, there was no way he could know he’d met a man with a very receptive heart.
I understood that my ability to resist traits I adored could become a difficult proposition with him.
“We’ll check the roads tomorrow?” he asked.
“We can check the roads tomorrow,” I assured. “When I deem them safe, I’ll let you go.”
He turned around and gazed into my eyes.
His were glassy. I’d said something he’d responded to.
I suspected it was showing him care and concern for his safety that touched him.
My ability to recognize a need in others had been my gift since I was a boy.
The skill to identify—and solve—the needs of people I cared for came naturally to me.
An innate need to protect and care for my partner would always be my life’s blood.
“Okay. If you think that’s best,” he agreed, laying his hand on my chest. “Now, about those eggs I mentioned earlier. You still up for them?”
For some impulsive reason, I repositioned his hand to cover my heart. “We have potatoes too.”
“We do, do we?” he laughed. “I suppose extra butter in the frying pan is a must?”
“How’d you know?” I whispered.
“Instinct, mister,” he replied.
There was that name again, mister. How did this stranger know I’d respond to the word so strongly? How did he know every single quality I adored in a man he appeared to possess in abundance? He was drawing me in, and I felt helpless to resist.
“Did I tell you I liked you?” I asked, gazing into his brown eyes, and fishing for confirmation that he felt the same.
“You did mention that,” he chuckled. “And the feeling is quite mutual.”
We remained still, our eyes searching the other’s for something unspoken. He’d mentioned the night before about the universe speaking to him. Funny, but I didn’t feel as bothered by his admission this morning. In fact, I wondered about such possibilities myself.
“I have an idea for after breakfast,” I said, moving unruly strands of hair from the corner of his eye. His eyes widened, and he waited expectantly. “Would you like to go into those woods,”—I pointed through the window behind him—“and cut a Christmas tree for the cabin?”
Van instantly turned to look outside. “Really?” he asked, gripping my hand in excitement.
“Yep! And I have tons of decorations in the garage,” I said.
“Hang on a sec,” he demanded. “Lemme ask you this. Do you have outdoor lights for the house?” he grilled, lighting up like a Christmas tree himself.
“I have millions.”
“Millions?” he whispered, in awe of the exaggerated number. “Clear or colored?”
“Colored, of course,” I stated. “Who hangs boring, clear Christmas lights on their house?”
“You are my Christmas hero!” he exclaimed.
Van leaned forward and gave me a peck on the lips.
The childlike expression on his face broke me.
I’ve never seen such wholesome joy on another person’s face in my life.
I’d loved Christmas before having my life upended and my heart broken, and here was a person who was resuscitating the holiday spirit that previously lived inside me before losing John.
“You truly love Christmas, don’t you?” I asked.
“I used to,” he admitted. “Last year was tough, and being alone was not fun.”
“Same for me. But we could help each other out of our funk,” I stated. “We are Christmas babies, after all,” I added.
“And I am looking for my Christmas miracle,” he said. “Disregard that,” he quickly added.
His expression suddenly darkened. I assumed he recalled our discussion the night before regarding the ‘husband journey’ he’d disclosed he was on, and now regretted saying such a thing. Not to mention disclosing that I might be the man the universe was speaking to him about.
I didn’t want to kill the happy vibe we were creating, so I ignored what appeared to be apprehension on his part and decided to join him in his search.
“The two of us getting back on track with our love for Christmas can be our shared miracle,” I stated. I winked at him while grinning. “And if we happen to discover that man the universe spoke of, all the better.”
“Now you’re just being kind, mister,” he said, tugging on my thumb. “I sounded silly last night, didn’t I?”
“Who am I to deny the universe?” I teased. “Besides, I’m single too. Maybe the universe has a guy for me. Whaddaya think? May I join you on this important journey of yours?” I asked, tilting my head in question. “We could celebrate Christmas together to give the plan plenty of time,” I added.
His brow furrowed. “That’s almost two weeks away,” he pointed out.
“And?” I asked. “You got something or someone in Denver that can’t wait?”
“Well… not really,” he agreed. “I do need a job, though.”
“Help me with the mercantile during the holidays. We can decorate that as well,” I suggested. “I could even pay you for your time.”
He stared at our joined hands for a long moment before looking up. “It’s not the money,” he began. “Plus, where would I stay during the next two weeks?”
“With me and Pooch, silly. He wants you here. Can’t you tell?”
Pooch was asleep across the room. “Really?” he joked, motioning toward the sleeping pet.
“Okay,” I began. “I want you here.”
“But you don’t know me, Chip. I worry having me underfoot could change your mind about the invite.”
I brought his hand to my chest, pressing it hard against me. “Hear me out, Van,” I pleaded. He stared into my eyes. His were pooling, and mine weren’t far behind. “What if the universe is speaking to you? What if you left Missile and never found out?”
“You believe my nonsense?” he asked. “You don’t think I’m weird?”
“Let’s just say I don’t wanna risk it. And frankly, I want company this Christmas. No! That’s a lie. I need company.”
“And you’re sure?” he asked. “I could leave if it gets weird. I promise.”
“I like weird. And I like you.”
“Then… I’d like that,” he agreed. “Can we celebrate our birthdays, too?”
I pulled him closer and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “We can do both,” I agreed, kissing both his cheeks before nuzzling his ear.
As we stood embracing, I wondered where we’d be on Christmas Day and on our birthdays.
The joint celebrations were a long two weeks away.
Surely the storm would’ve passed by then.
Then what? What if he ended up going on to Denver and he accepted a job there?
I pushed the depressing thought away as quickly as it came.
“Let’s eat and then I’ll show you the art of cutting down a Christmas tree while saving the tree.”
“You can do that?”
“I can do that!”
Dogs are perceptive creatures. Pooch looked up, detecting a lightness in me he hadn’t sensed in many months, and came rushing to my feet. I knelt and mussed his fur. Having him with me the past year was lifesaving. He was all I’d had until now.
Until now. The thought filled me with hope. Maybe the universe had plans for me, too.