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“Good.” She had fought me, but a generator was necessary up here, and hers was top of the line. I’d even had it hooked up to her natural gas line so she didn’t have to worry about fuel. As long as she had food and water, she would be good for a couple of weeks. “Did you fill up your car?”
“I’ll gas up after school.”
“Do you want me to do it for you? I’m headed out to get gas for my generator.”
She sighed in response. Shit. Next would come the lecture.
“I know it’s hard, sweetie, but we can’t control the weather, or the roads, or anything else. I love you so much for checking on me, but I’ll be fine.”
“I know I can’t control it, but I can make sure you’re all prepared.”
“Yes, dear. And we are. You’ve got to respect that we can take care of ourselves, even if our definition of being prepared looks different from yours.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a groan. I’d heard this particular lecture at least a hundred times. Loosen up. Stop trying to control everything. You can’t wrap the world in bubble wrap. Blah, blah.
“Honey, I’m not sure your obsession with preparedness is healthy.”
I snapped. “Healthy? Of course it’s healthy. I’m trying to keep everyone alive.”
“I know. And I love you so much for it. But what are you trying to avoid in the process, Pascal? What are you pushing away in favor of constant anxiety?”
Leave it to my mom to turn a quick check into a full-on therapy session. She loved therapy, told everyone how amazing it was. She’d recently added meditation to her repertoire and had been raving about it for months. I was thrilled that she had found contentment, but she was constantly on me about growth and mindset and boundaries. It was excruciating.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, forcing myself to smile. And I truly did. I couldn’t have asked for more loving parents, and I had missed her for all the years I’d been gone. “I gotta pop into the grocery store. I’m going to drop off a junk food care package for Goldie and Tucker.”
My house was always well stocked, so I already had the necessities, but if we did end up stuck inside for a few days, I knew Parker wouldn’t go for chicken breasts, oatmeal, and frozen veggies for every meal. So I grabbed a couple of frozen pizzas, popcorn, strawberries, which I had recently discovered were her favorite, and a few more cases of bottled water. While my house had a well, the pump was electric, so if we lost power, that would mean no water for a bit. Hooking that up to the generator in the snow wasn’t a task I was interested in unless it was absolutely necessary, so I always kept a healthy stock just in case.
By the time I made it home, it had already begun to snow. I carried in the groceries, totally focused on avoiding Parker and mentally reviewing my pre-storm checklist.
After we’d kissed last night, I’d hidden out in my room. Then I’d left early for the gym this morning. I could not risk that happening again.
She was good at her job, and we needed her. I couldn’t let my ego or my libido get in the way of finding answers.
But ignoring the way she smiled or chewed on her pens or tapped her foot while she read through endless spreadsheets was getting harder to ignore as the days wore on. She was in my house and in my head, and my damn dick was obsessed with her.
I owed it to Dad and my family to keep my hands off her. This was the one thing I could do for them—give them peace of mind and closure. And in turn, it’d hopefully make everyone’s lives safer.
So I went through my list. Plugging in all electronics, including my backup battery bank. Bringing in as much dry firewood as I could to keep the house warm in the event of a power outage. Checking the generator and my backup fuel supply. Checking the barn to make sure the doors were secure. A tiny fizzle of accomplishment rushed through me with every task I checked off. None of them were hard, but each was necessary to ensure we weren’t faced with danger or surprises. My family was so absurd. I wasn’t avoiding anything. I was only being careful.
Next, I headed to the garage, which was my sanctuary. The barn out back was for machinery, my workbench, and sports equipment, so my garage held only the essentials.
Hooks were mounted along the walls, and a series of racks took up one full side. Everything I needed could be found in here. Tools, shovels, scrapers, oil and gas for the snowblower, and a bin full of manuals for all my outdoor equipment.
I hadn’t used my snowblower since last year, and if we were really going to get ten to twelve inches, I had to make sure it would get the job done. So I connected my phone to my portable speaker, clicked on a playlist I liked to listen to while I worked, grabbed my headlamp, and set to replace the spark plugs.
I was in the zone when the air shifted and a shadow moved across the room. Parker stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light behind her. Her hair was down, which was unusual, and she was wearing her usual leggings and a baggy T-shirt that slipped off one shoulder to reveal her black bra strap. I sent up a thanks to the universe that she was wearing a bra. This entire ordeal would be impossible otherwise.
“Can I help?” she asked, being awkwardly pleasant rather than her usual snarky self.
Shaking my head, I turned down the music. “Nah, I’m almost done. Had to replace the spark plugs and shear pins.”
“What’s a shear pin?”
I snagged one off the workbench and held it up. “Just a long bolt. If the auger catches on a rock or a chunk of ice or even a frozen newspaper, this pin will snap, forcing the motor to shut off so the entire machine doesn’t break.”
“So it’s a failsafe?”
“Sort of.”
