CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Chip
Ijumped in the truck, put the key in the ignition, and turned to Van. “I don’t know how you do that?”
He chuckled, securing his seat belt and pointing at mine. “Put your belt on, mister,” he instructed. “And do what? Be kind to a lonely old woman?” he continued.
“More like charm her out of her panties.”
“Yuck, let me lose that image really quickly,” he replied. “I think she’s simply afraid of her town changing. I imagine she prefers everyone to stay the same, never move away, and interlopers like me will have to pass her inspection.”
“Looked like you did that,” I agreed, placing the truck in gear. “Now let’s go grab the tow truck and see what kinda idiot spun out on the highway and plowed into the ditch.”
Glancing at the time displayed on the radio screen, it read just before seven PM. The male caller stated they’d missed the Missile exit and tried to drive across the median to head back. That brilliant idea is why he was stuck in a three-foot snowbank.
“How far away?” Van asked, rubbing his hands in front of the heater vent.
“Mile outta town,” I said. Van shivered, his teeth chattering. “You can stick those hands in my pants if it’d help,” I teased, raising my brows suggestively.
“Love to,” he said. “But that kind of distraction leaves our customer stranded for an hour or so if I do that.”
“Fuck the customer.”
“How about fuck me instead?” Van suggested.
“Sounds fuckin’ great!” I exclaimed. “At the mercantile? In the tow truck on our way?” I joked. “You name the time and place, and I’m in, pretty boy.”
Van pointed out the windshield. “Drive, horndog. You’ll get yours.”
We retrieved the tow truck, and stowed extra chains in case the idiot was down a steep embankment, and headed to milepost 117, his stated location.
“We’re looking for a silver Benz with Washington plates. The customer could be at any point now,” I stated, swiping the driver’s side window free of fog.
Van’s head spun around. “Mercedes Benz?” he repeated, giving me a strange look. “And the customer said Washington plate?”
Just as I was answering him, I spotted a tall figure standing along the highway. The man was hugging himself, completely underdressed, exposed to the freezing temps, and practically huddled over.
“Jesus!” I huffed. “He could freeze and die in these temps. Why the hell ain’t he in his car?”
Van leaned closer to the front windshield. “No fucking way,” he whispered.
Van wasn’t much of a curser. He didn’t pressure me to clean up my act, but I’d rarely heard him swear. “What is it?”
“That’s Evan,” he said, turning to me in disbelief.
“Are you sure?”
“No doubt!” he exclaimed. “That’s his car. It’s definitely him in expensive loafers standing in a foot of snow, with no jacket on. And who else could it be with Washington plates on a Mercedes?”
The man spotted us pulling over and rushed to the driver’s side window, his hands waving and words coming out of his mouth that we couldn’t hear yet. I rolled the window down just in time to get an earful.
“What took you so goddamned long?” he snapped. “It’s practically a million degrees below zero out here in this godforsaken place.”
I was too stunned to reply. His perfectly styled hair had a fresh layer of white powder on it. He wore an obviously expensive sweater, snow piling up on his shoulders, a button-down shirt under that, and looked like he’d been transported from a rich country club.
“Evan?” Van spoke, leaning toward me and the open window.
Evan bent closer and peered into the cab of the truck. “Vance?” he asked, a look of surprise and shock on his face. “What the hell are you doing with this redneck tow truck driver? Did you break down, too?”
“Fuck you, buddy,” I responded. “If you’d like, I can leave your ass right here.”
Van’s prick of an ex diverted his attention back to me. “Not likely, country boy,” he hissed. “When I’m done reaming the owner of your business a new asshole concerning your delay, you’ll find yourself unemployed.”
“That’d be me, dipshit,” I announced. “How about I go back and wait for your call?”
With that, I put the truck in drive and drove away.
Van turned around and watched the silhouette of his asshole ex growing smaller.
As far as I was concerned, Evan could call St. Regis and its tow service.
At nearly fifty miles away, their arrival should only be another hour away, while the jerk spent the time in sub-freezing temps.
“We can’t leave him, Chip.”
I was too pissed to listen to reason, so I focused on the road. Evan’s behavior was one thing for sure, but I preferred to avoid having Van’s ex in my hair. An unexpected home visit from John was one thing, but another visitor? And this one was the ex of both John and Van? No fucking thanks.
“Sure, we can,” I grunted. “Just sit back and watch me.”
He slid his hand onto my lap, squeezing my leg. “Chip? Now come on. We can’t just leave him standing on the road in this weather.”
“Did you hear that asshole?” I asked, glaring at him. “The fuckin’ nerve.”
“I lived with him, remember? And I’ve heard that tone many times,” he acknowledged. “I’ll admit, hearing him from this angle is shocking to witness.”
“The guy’s a douche of the first order,” I declared, trying my hardest to stay angry and follow through with my plan to leave the fool stranded.
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “But…”
I held my hand up. “Come on now, baby. Listen to you,” I began. “You’re about to tell me about forgiveness and kindness and all that stuff, correct?” I asked, not waiting for an answer. “I’ve spent two seconds with that man, and I already wanna smash his face in.”
“Because?”
I pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face him, my eyes expanded in disbelief. “Because?” I dared. “Because? How about because he’s rude? And he acts entitled and douchey.”
“You already mentioned he was a douche.”
His lack of anger toward Evan frustrated me, but I decided to cease speaking. I had a hunch I wasn’t going to win an argument about how to treat people with the king of kindness. I also knew that was why I’d fallen so hard for Van. He was good. Too good for me, in my opinion.
“I didn’t like that guy,” I muttered. “He is not a nice person either.”
“You mentioned that.” Van smiled at me and scooted across the bench seat, reaching for my hand. “And you’re thinking he was probably unkind to me. Am I correct, mister?”
I turned away and stared out the window. Van was right. The image of that man treating Van poorly caused me to seethe inside. My emotional lava was boiling over at the idea of my not being there to protect him before.
“He didn’t deserve you,” I whispered, gripping the steering wheel while I raged internally. “And then John, too?”
“Look at me, please, Chip,” he asked, tugging on my hand. I ignored my stupid pride gene and turned to him. “Neither of us is with Evan anymore.”
“I’m more angry about your being with him. No one was there to protect you from that,” I stated. “John isn’t as sweet as you are, Van.”
“So, this is about me?”
I hated to admit I’d acted like a jealous seventh-grade boy. “Probably.”
Van leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the lips. “I like this side of you, mister. You make me feel protected and loved for the first time in my life.”
“But?” I asked, knowing there was no way Van would leave Evan alongside the road.
“You know we have to be the better people,” he reminded me. “We have to turn around and go get him.”
The urge to slam the steering wheel was barely maintained. I wanted to love and protect Van, but I didn’t want to be an ape about my feelings for him. Evan was full of himself. Anyone could see that, but if I wanted Van’s respect, I needed to compromise my me Tarzan, you Jane approach.
“I guess you’re right,” I caved. “He could freeze out there. But then again, that would shut him up for good if he did.”
Van swatted at me. “Stop! Now turn around, handsome. We’ll get him towed to the mercantile, and then we can help…”
He stopped mid-sentence. He suddenly realized the situation we found ourselves in. “Then we’ll what?” I pushed.
Van quieted, his hands wrestling in his lap. I’d witnessed this conundrum before. First to speak would lose. The silence killed me.
“I guess we’ll have to… he’ll have to…”
“Not a fuckin’ chance!” I exclaimed. “No way. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever!”
“But Christmas is in a few hours,” he appealed. “He’ll be all alone, baby.”
When he called me baby, I knew he was using the big gun of endearments. I’d already figured out that a life with Van would mean a life of willingly giving into him. He was impossible to say no to.
“Van, please,” I begged. “You’ve lost your senses. Did you hear him back there?”
“I did,” he acknowledged.
“He’s rude and arrogant, and… and, well, I don’t like him.”
“True. He can be all those things, but when he realizes he’s essentially stranded, he’ll change his tune.”
While dealing with a massive desire not to have to deal with Van’s ex, it suddenly hit me. I locked eyes with the man I fiercely wanted to be with. I saw myself loving and protecting this sweet man with all my might. But a far more serious reality hit me right between the eyes.
“Why is Evan here?”