Waking up without Joe the next morning was odd and more than a little scary. Odd because in three short days, she’d gotten accustomed to seeing him the instant she opened her eyes, had come to expect to feel his warm, solid body next to hers. Scary because in three short days she’d gotten accustomed to seeing him the instant she opened her eyes, had come to expect to feel his warm, solid body next to hers.

And that just wouldn’t do. There were no parameters here, no hard and fast rules that she could follow, but getting used to being in Joe MacDermid’s bed, in his life, was a risky proposition, riskier than any she’d ever undertaken. She had to maintain distance, do as she’d told Joe she would and take care of her own feelings. And that meant always remembering that this thing between them was as fleeting as a comet, a crazy, improbable moment in both their lives, but entirely impermanent. How could it be anything else? No matter what they’d shared in the days past, she was Verna and he was still Joe, and he’d eventually end up with someone like him, someone worthy of him, someone who was the opposite of Verna. So she’d enjoy whatever time they shared, but she wouldn’t make it more than it was, couldn’t allow herself to hope that it might last, and she certainly couldn’t let herself to get used to it, or any more used to it. If she remembered that, she might make it out unscathed.

Her ringing phone drew her from her thoughts, and for a split second, hope that it was Joe bloomed in her chest like a bouquet of flowers. She squashed it as quickly as she could. It was just that kind of thinking she’d been warning herself against moments ago, the kind of thinking that would get her heart broken.

The phone rang again, and she answered without looking at the caller ID. If it was Joe, great, but if not, equally great. She had a life, or at least was finally starting to build one, and she wouldn’t make him the centerpiece.

“Hello?” she said.

“Verna, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you!” her father said.

She doubted he’d been looking that hard, but suppressed that thought. It wasn’t like she’d wanted him out in the storm, but she was still hurt and angry at him, and disappointed that this was his first attempt to reach out to her since he’d so callously fired her. She had half a mind to hang up, but she didn’t, instead gripping the phone as tight as she could.

“I lost power,” she said, pretending she didn’t know that most everyone else had as well. She also tried to ignore the fact that for other than a brief moment, her father and the cafeteria hadn’t crossed her mind. A little niggle of guilt sprang up at that thought. She’d been so entirely enraptured in Joe, she hadn’t spared them, or anyone really, a second thought.

“Yeah,” her father said, voice softening, “we did too. Is yours back on?”

“It is,” she responded.

“And you’re…okay?”

Did she detect a faint hint of concern?

“Yeah, I’m fine. And you guys are okay?”

“Yes. And I’m opening the cafeteria today. You should come by. We might need an extra hand.”

Verna was both surprised and not. This could have been her father’s attempt to say he was sorry, or maybe it was a cynical ploy to get more free labor on what would undoubtedly be a busy day as Thornehill tried to get back to normal. She decided not to think too hard about either. She figured that by now the roads had improved, but there was still snow and ice on the ground, her car was still on the side of the road, and after her latest adventure, she’d lost what little taste she’d had for snow driving anyway. Of course, Joe would probably be happy to take her to pick it up…

No, she wouldn’t even think of asking him, of letting herself slip just that much deeper when she did.

“I can’t, Daddy. The driveway is covered, and I don’t want to risk it. Oh, and you fired me, remember? Good luck, though,” she finally said.

The miles that separated her and her father didn’t lessen the feel of his disapproval as it floated down the phone line and directly into her brain. But she ignored it. There were no other options, and truth be told, she was in no hurry to see him again.

“Are you really so ungrateful?” he asked in that tone of his that demanded an answer. But she held her tongue. She wouldn’t disrespect him, but she didn’t owe him anything. Long, tense moments passed, but Verna didn’t let guilt or obligation move her.

“Good-bye, Verna.”

He hung up, and for the first time she could remember, guilt at disappointing him didn’t leave her almost paralyzed. In fact, she felt great, energized, like she’d just completed a spectacular feat. And, she thought wryly as she sat at her sewing machine, she knew exactly who she had to thank for that.

---

The next day, Verna decided she’d probably better go retrieve her vehicle before it got towed. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to the walk, but calling her parents was out of the question, and Joe…calling Joe was way beyond out of the question. The urge to call him or go over had been stronger than she could have dreamed, but she’d resisted the temptation. It was stupid and probably childish, but she didn’t want to cling, force herself somewhere she might not be wanted, so she’d decided to let him make the first move. And she also didn’t want to rely on his kindness. He’d done enough for her already; she wouldn’t ask for more.

The whole situation was somewhat surreal. It was all so vivid, every kiss, every touch, every quiet moment, but in the evening that had passed since they’d been together, she’d started to wonder if she was misreading what had happened, or maybe making more of it than there had been.

While she was definitely no longer a virgin—and Lord how she’d thought about him above her, inside her, wishing she could feel that almost indescribable pleasure again—there was still something fantastical about the whole thing, like maybe, possibly it had all been a dream.

And if she was being honest, she was bone-deep terrified. What if he regretted what had happened? Her gut twisted at the thought, one that seemed more plausible with each passing second. What if, while she’d been replaying every moment in her head, he’d been lamenting the entire thing? He hadn’t contacted her either, a decision she’d hoped was born of something other than regret. Or maybe it had meant nothing at all to him. Ugh, she didn’t know which was worse, but this feeling, the swirling confusion that crowded her brain, was the reason she had to be careful, why she had to keep her distance, emotionally if not physically.

But she needed to put her emotions aside for the moment. Her car wasn’t getting any closer, and that walk wasn’t getting any shorter. So she bundled up as best she could, grabbed her keys, and walked out the front door, bumping into a retreating Joe.

She jumped, startled, and he turned, laughter—and was that guilt?—lighting his eyes at her no doubt ruffled expression.

“I know,” he said, the thunder of his deep voice surrounding her and soothing any irritation she felt, “I gotta stop sneaking up on you.”

After nodding curtly, she turned and locked the door, mostly using the motion as an excuse to break eye contact and to buy time so that she didn’t throw herself into his arms as she so much wanted to.

“Well, what’s up?” she asked a moment later.

“I…” He trailed off and looked toward her driveway. “I wondered if you had thought about your car.”

“Yep,” she said, “I was just going to get it.”

It was his turn to look irritated. “Alone? Were you going to walk?”

“Yes. And yes.”

He gave her a chiding look that would have made her father proud. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Joe, I didn’t want to bother you. I know you probably have stuff to do, and getting Verna Love out of trouble should not be your job.”

Surprisingly, he chuckled and she returned the laugh on instinct, though she wasn’t sure what had triggered his humor.

“What?” she finally said.

He reached up and cupped her cheek, trailing his thumb along her jaw before letting it come to rest atop her thick scarf. It took everything she had not to burst into flames, his touch having ignited fierce desire inside her in a single instant.

“I was just thinking. If Joe MacDermid referred to himself in the third person, Verna Love would positively skewer him for his arrogant self-regard.”

His expression silently dared her to disagree, the laughter in his eyes deepening into lust and what she thought might be affection. She pursed her lips, hoping to convey displeasure, but she knew he could see right through it to the longing that she felt.

“Well, Verna Love does have a certain panache that others may not, so while you’re correct that she might ordinarily find that habit unfortunate, when she does it, it’s totally cool.”

Laughter, rich and deep, rumbled from his chest and she joined in.

A moment later he said, “It’s no trouble, Verna. You’re no trouble.”

Those simple, kind words softened her resolve and made it impossible for her to say no to his unasked question.

“I suppose you could give me a ride,” she said, her tone far more even and flippant than she’d thought she’d be able to manage.

“Yeah, I could do that,” he said. “And maybe dinner after?”

He looked at her with a heated gaze that promised so much more than sustenance, one she couldn’t wait to see later.

“What are you waiting for, Jojo? Let’s go.”