She giggled. “Andyou’reBig Foot?”
“Definitely,” he admitted.
Quiet took over the space as they stepped out of their snowshoes, then out of their other boots next. Easton had let the fire die down, leaving nothing but embers in the fireplace.
“You go ahead and change first,” he urged, “and I’ll get the fire going again.” He turned his back to her then, and Ivy felt that inner spot of warmth trying to resurface. He really was a great guy, wasn’t he? Decent and good.
“Thanks,” she said, hurrying over to his bag where she placed the folded clothes. “And thanks for making the trek out there to the lodge. I can’t believe how lucky we got that the wind wasn’t blowing on the way there. With as strong as it was on the way back, practically pushing us, I can’t imagine fighting against that the whole time.”
“Yeah,” Easton agreed. “I’d have had to take you back and go myself.”
She shook her head. “You keep saying stuff like that.”
“Only because it’s true.”
A chuckle snuck out. “Whatever.” Ivy had already switched out of her shirt and was moving on to her pants. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder before unbuttoning her jeans.
Just as she’d guessed, Easton’s gaze was trained directly on the fire as he propped the fresh logs in place.
Her mind shot back to their moments outside the lodge. The mere recollection caused her heart to race. She’d done something she hadn’t planned to do, which was to try and upload the footage of Easton to the station’s i-cloud where she had her own private file. She’d done the same with his signed contract too. Sure, Nancy could access the folder if she wanted, but there would be no need. Once Ivy got back she could edit the interview and forward it, along with the contract, on to Marsha.
The thought came to her, as it had several times before, that she could choosenotto forward it on as well. Her motives behind that idea were purely selfish, not to mention foolish. But she did like knowing it was an option. Especially considering that when Easton checked the weather report, round two of the storm, which had started once they were heading back, would last longer than round one. They may even be stuck here over Christmas.
Ivy traded her own socks and shoes for Easton’s thick, wool socks as she considered their snowy excursion. While sending the data to her backup storage, she’d decidednot totell Easton what she was doing. Not that it should matter. Still, she’d risked sucking even more of her battery with the energy it took to do so, leaving her with a measly twelve percent.
But that was okay, she realized. Easton was a trained professional; there was no one better to be snowed-in with than him. In more ways than one, she mused, recalling the chiseled state of his bare chest. The enticing banter they’d shared since she arrived. Still, Ivy decided as she walked toward the rod propped close to the fire, Easton close by her side, it’d be best if she steered clear of the moonshine tonight.
Chapter 9
Laughter filled the glowing yurt all the way up to the domed rooftop, his mingled with hers, and Easton was enjoying every moment of it. The best part about it was that neither had even touched the spiked peaches. The buzz in the air was all natural, all consuming and, he was quite certain, addictive too.
The day had given way to night once more, the hours filled with easy conversation, puzzles and games, and stories of Christmas Eves past—Ivy’s, not his.
“So your dad dodges five lanes of heavy traffic in a cop car, all to propose to your mother at Grand Park?”
“Yep. He was quite the romantic.”
“Guess I should be on my best behavior,” he realized. “Spending late nights with the sheriff’s daughter.”
She giggled. “He’s not the sheriff anymore, but he still works for the department, and hestillhas a patrol car.”
“Good. He can help out the guy who proposes toyou,”Easton said.
“Right.”
A sting of jealousy sneaked in at the thought. Easton ignored it.
“I tell you,” Ivy said with a sigh, “growing up in a big family, we really did have a whole lot of fun.”
“It sure sounds like it.” Easton enjoyed the way her blue eyes lit up as she talked about her terrifying encounter with a mall Santa, or the time she and her siblings snuck into the closet and peeked at their presents early one year. Ivy had, without even knowing it, managed to alter his perspective. One that had been etched in stone until now.
“I have to tell you,” he said, “when I see life through your eyes, the way your childhood was, it gives me hope. What you had, it’s very different from my own experience. It’s a stark contrast from the life many of the kids who come through here have known as well. That’s why it’s been easy to convince myself that happy families don’t really exist.”
Ivy tipped her head, her expression turning thoughtful now. “Yes, I’ve been fortunate. Of course, coming from a big family has its downsides.”
“Like what?” he wondered.
“Being the youngest,” she started, “I felt I was miles behind everyone, you know? I was barely starting to learn one thing, and all of my siblings were mastering bigger, more impressive feats. It just seemed like no matter what I did, I couldn’t get them to notice or…” She dropped off there and shook her head. “It’s a stupid complaint. In comparison to what other people deal with…”
