Page 23 of Holly and Ivar
Liv glanced at the screen, her eyes widening.“Holly, this is incredible.”She set the laptop down and, before Holly could protest, wrapped her in a spontaneous hug.“You saved me!”
Holly froze, startled.Hugs weren’t standard protocol at the Northeast Division, at least not in her office.But a warmth rose in her chest all the same.
“You’re welcome.”The smile came easily—unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Just then, a gust of cold air swept through the lobby as the front door opened.Ivar stepped inside, brushing snow off his jacket.
“Well, speak of the ranger.”Liv turned.“Guess who saved the Winterwood Christmas Carnival?Holly!I was drowning in chaos, and she swooped in with spreadsheets and checklists and...poof!Order restored.”
Ivar raised an eyebrow.“Spreadsheet Holly performed a little magic?”
Holly laughed.“Not magic.Experience.Though the line’s been known to blur.”
“Careful.”Ivar’s mouth quirked at the corner.“Around here, being good at something can get you volunteered for a lot more work.”
Liv winked.“Don’t tempt me.”
Holly took another sip of coffee, hiding her grin.The banter between Liv and Ivar reminded her of her own siblings before they were scattered across the globe.Memories of teasing and laughter, a time when life was simpler.Memories that filled her with warmth.
12
stocking up on excuses
Holly
“Aboutyesterday,”Ivarsaidas the truck climbed deeper into the forest, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with the dog sledding.You were a good sport about it, but I crossed a line.”
“You didn’t.Honest.It was unexpected, but also fun.”Holly watched sunlight flicker through bare branches.“I’m a big girl.If I didn’t want to do it, I’d have said no.”
“Yeah, but still...”His hands tightened on the steering wheel.“The thing is, I know what it’s like to bury yourself in work until it stops being healthy.”
That caught her off guard.“I thought you loved your job.”
“I do.But before this, I did something else.”
She turned, studying him.“What?Lumberjack?Official maple syrup tester?”
“Video game developer.”
She blinked.“You’re joking.”
“No, ma’am.”His mouth curved, but not quite into a smile.“Ten years.”
She tried to picture this plaid-shirted outdoorsman behind a desk, under artificial light, typing code instead of trudging through snow.“I know we just met, but I can’t picture it.”
“Yeah.Most people can’t.”
“So, what happened?”
“That,” he said, turning off onto a narrow side road, “is a story for another time.Because we’re here.”
The truck slowed, tires crunching to a stop at the trailhead.
Ivar reached behind the seat and handed her a pair of snowshoes.“You’ll want these.”
They got out, boots sinking into the powder.Today, she’d left her tablet behind, opting instead for her laminated, color-coded map courtesy of her father.She laid it across the truck’s hood to get her bearings.Ivar leaned closer, the faint scent of cedar and wood smoke following him.It was quite pleasant.
“I can’t get over this map.Do you have friends at NASA?”
