Heck, I wasn’t even expecting to see him again. I kept my promise to myself, refusing to bother him or find any excuse to knock on his door. It wasn’t easy. I spent three whole days shut up inside reading fantasy smut and picturing Ivan as the hero. Safe to say I was going a little stir crazy. So, when he appeared on the doorstep out of nowhere, I was shocked…and also a little mortified that he found me crying in my pajamas with messy hair and morning breath.
Not my best look.
But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is I’m spending the holidays with Ivan and North. It’s not the Christmas I imagined—but I have a feeling it could be even better.
“Ready, Candy Cane?” Ivan asks as I leave the bathroom.
The nickname sets my pulse quivering all over again, just like the man waiting for me by the door. He looks bigger and brawnier than ever in his thick winter jacket, the heat of his gaze making me blush.
“Ready.” I shrug on my coat, grab the overnight bag I packed, and follow Ivan outside.
The storm is still raging as we climb down the frozen steps, the wind howling in our ears. Before I came to Cherry Mountain, I pictured snow being gentle, drifting down slowly from the sky like powdered sugar. Turns out that’s only sometimes. Right now, it’s falling so violently I can barely see, turning the world into a haze of churning white.
When I make it to the bottom of the stairs, my feet sink into the snow. I’m almost knee-deep, my knees soaking wet.
So cold.
I try to trudge forward, but stumble, falling against Ivan’s back.
“S-shoot! S-sorry.”
The storm swallows my teeth-chattering words as Ivan helps me up. He squints at me through the snow, then mouths something I can’t hear.
“What?” I shout.
With an impatient shake of his head, he moves toward me. Suddenly, I’m being lifted into the air, scooped up in Ivan’s strong arms like I’m weightless. He carries me bridal-style through the trees, holding me against his chest. His body heat thaws my skin, and I instinctively nuzzle against him, eager for warmth.
We reach his cabin a few minutes later. When I came knocking a few days ago, I saw a spacious log cabin made from dark wood. Now, most of Ivan’s home is obscured by a giant snowdrift. It forms a giant white wave, rising all the way up to the topmost window, which is only just visible.
Ivan has already dug a path to the front door. He shoulders it open, the wind slamming it shut behind us as he carries me over the threshold and into the living room. It’s like plunging into a hot bath. Flames are roaring in the giant stone fireplace, which takes up half the opposite wall. It’s the only source of light, making shadows dance across the room. All the windows are still shuttered—presumably blocked by snow.
North barks excitedly, jumping up at Ivan as he sets me down.
“Easy, boy.”
Ivan pets him, then flicks the light switch. The living room glows to life. It’s spacious but cozy—all brown leather and warm colors. Plush rugs cover the wooden floorboards, and exposed beams crisscross the vaulted ceiling. It smells like Ivan—pine and peppermint.
“This place is gorgeous,” I tell him, letting out a low whistle.
“Glad you like it.” He beckons me toward him. “You need to warm up.”
I join him on the couch by the fire, sinking into the worn leather. It’s a two-seater, and Ivan’s hulking frame takes up almost one and a half of those. If I were thinner then it might work, but I’m a big girl, so I have to squeeze myself in beside him. Our sides press together, thighs touching.
Heck, I’m not complaining.
I guess this is just another reason not to diet.
“Sorry,” Ivan mutters. “I’m too damn big for this couch. Keep meaning to get a new one.”
I shrug. “I like it. It’s cozy.”
Ivan shifts in his seat, and I catch sight of him in my peripheral vision. His jaw is set tight, bushy brows drawn into his usual scowl. The firelight catches the gray streaks in his beard, and I almost want to moan out loud from how attractive he is. I have to resist the urge to lean against him and rest my head on his broad shoulder. I’m already practically on his lap.
“You warmer now?” he asks, his voice as deep and growly as the storm outside.
“Yes, all warmed up.” I smile at him. “Thanks for carrying me all the way here, by the way.”
“No problem. Seemed practical.” To my disappointment, he suddenly stands up, leaving my side bare. “Want something to drink? Got coffee, hot chocolate…”
