I'll send you dog pics
You better
Who are you hiking with?
Whoops. I forgot to mention my time with Holland last night. I didn’t think to bring it up because it was a one-time thing. Or maybe I didn’t want to get into it? There’s no time to examine my own thought process before more texts come in.
He works at the lodge
Serial killer?
Don't think so. A colleague convinced me he was safe.
What's his name?
Holland
You're going hiking with someone named after your favorite Spidey?
I can hear you shrieking from here. It's nothing.
I love nothing. I want deets later.
I send a black heart emoji and put my cell phone back in my bag. Holland is patiently waiting with not even a faint sense of annoyance when I bring the jacket to the checkout. I’m used to doing things with Jack andwhen it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do, he’d sometimes pout and act like I was asking for a kidney.
When the cashier rings up all my hiking gear, I see the socks Holland chose.
“You picked out leopard print and otter socks for me?” I ask, almost in a teasing tone, attempting to hide my pure joy.
His cheeks go pink. “Ugh, I guess? You said fun, these seemed fun,” he says defensively.
“You’re right. Those are fun.” I clap a few times and the cashier snickers. “I love them.” I mean it.
Holland dips his face in understanding. His cheeks are still flushed and it seems like he’s trying to hold back his expression. Perhaps he might be embarrassed. The whole interaction warms me from the inside out.
We finish checking out and walk out to the truck.
“I’m starving. Want to get some lunch?” Holland asks.
Chapter Eighteen
THIS WOMAN. Her clapping skit—over some hiking socks—made my stomach flip. All because she was genuinely happy and didn’t expect it. This has been my favorite part of the trip into town.
The shopping was alright. Easy. The worst part was when I stayed in the truck when she asked to go to a lingerie store. I faked having to make a phone call because there wasno wayI wanted to step foot in a place like that with this gorgeous woman.
The window was full of lace and see-through lingerie. It’d make sense she’d need more than what she brought. I did anything I could to not think of her touching lacy things and trying them on. I turned on the local news radio to keep my mind under control. It didn’t work.
Now, my stomach is rumbling, and we need lunch. We could head back to the lodge, but since we’re already here, it makes sense to grab something while we’re out. Plus, she’ll get enough lodge food over the next few days.
She nods in agreement when I ask about food.
“You into burgers?” There is a solid local burger spot a few minutes away.
“Love burgers!” She exaggerates with hands on her chest. “What’s the place called?” she questions.
Ivy seems excited about almost anything. It doesn’t annoy me because it feels genuine.
“The Bun Room,” I reluctantly say. If the food wasn’t as good as it is, I’d keep my money in protest of the terrible name. Pretty sure the owner named it once he was too many drinks in. Or he lost a bet. Both stories have been circulated.
