Page 2 of Snow Much Plowing

It’s going to be fucking cold tonight, but there’s no reason to hurry home to an empty house.

Chapter Two

NOLAN

Normally when the first big winter storm hits, everyone gets a little crazy. The problem is this time it’s a lot bigger than anyone anticipated. The snow is coming down heavy, and even my oversized truck is having a hard time getting through. I’ve got a guard on the front that helps me clear the road, but it’s not the same as driving a full-size plow.

“Dumbasses,” I say to myself when I see a group of teenagers doing donuts in the school parking lot. My crew is probably going to have to save their asses in an hour.

The whole drive over to Maple Street I’m wondering why the hell I didn’t just call it in for one of the other guys to handle. But if I’m honest with myself, I know exactly why. It’s because I’m stuck behind a desk most days. Either that or I’m sitting in meetings that could be handled without me. My company has grown to the point that I’m not needed anymore, and it’s pissing me off.

I’ve given up every other part of my life to make a name for myself and build something from the ground up. Now all I do is work on trucks to pass the time and try to stay out of the way.

Getting that call and hearing someone in need made me remember why I started doing this in the first place. Back when it was just me and my old Jeep that I’d installed a winch on. I used to go around pulling people out of the snow, and it made me feel like I was helping. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until I heard the woman on the other end of the line. She sounded like she needed help, and I didn’t hesitate to jump into action.

When I pull up to Maple Street, I slow down and take the curve as carefully as I can. The rain often runs off in this direction, so there’s likely a lot of ice under my tires.

“Shit,” I say when I feel the back tires start to slide. I put the truck in park and then hop out to get a better look.

Up ahead is the house, but I don’t see a light on. There’s a big lump in the driveway that I’m guessing is a vehicle, but it’s under about five feet of snow, so I can’t be sure. I trudge past where my truck stopped and make my way to the house. When I get to the porch, I duck under the awning and raise my hand to knock.

To my surprise, the door is pulled open before I can make contact. “I saw you drive up.”

“You the one that called about the plow?” I say as a big gust of cold wind blows ice and snow inside her house.

She’s a short little thing with big brown eyes and long dark hair. Her cheeks are pale, and her lips are a little blue as she shivers and pulls a thin cardigan tight around her body.

“Y-yes,” she says then swallows. “But I, um, wanted to know how much.”

Another gust of wind comes through, and I nod past her. “Why don’t you let me in so we can close this door?”

She nods and steps back for me to enter, and when I do, I realize our drastic difference in size. The top of her head hardly comes up to my chest.

Her eyes dart to the lump of snow in the driveaway. “My car is small. How much would it cost to get it out?”

She fidgets when she asks this, and my eyes move down her body. She might be short, but she’s built like a woman. Wide hips, thick thighs, and a full set of tits made for a grown man to hold on to.

“What’s your name?” I find myself asking.

“Mia,” she says shyly. “Is that you?”

I look at the logo of my company on the side of my truck. “It is. I’m Nolan Pruitt.”

“I don’t have much money.” Those big brown eyes blink before she looks away. “I really just need to get to the grocery store.”

“You think if I got your car out you could drive in this?”

“Maybe?” She shivers again, and when she drops her arms, I can see her hard nipples. They are poking through the threadbare shirt she has on under her cardigan.

My cock stirs with the reminder that it’s been a while since we’ve found some relief. Sinking into something warm and wet would do me some good.

I shake my head. “Even if I got you out, you’re not going anywhere.”

Her eyes start to water, and her pouty bottom lip trembles. “I drove all day to get here in time to give Mr. Murphy my deposit.” She looks out the window as she wipes away a tear. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store before the storm hit.”

I glance around the small house that looks like it hasn’t seen a coat of paint or even a mop since it was built. The only thing in this room is a black trash bag in the corner. “Where’s your stuff?”

“That’s it.” She waves to the bag that I thought was garbage and sniffs. “The pictures online were so nice. I should have known better.” She looks up at the ceiling. “I didn’t get to turn the power on either.”

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