Holly’s Grizzly (Monster Relations Bureau #4)

20

Holly

I white-knuckle the steering wheel all the way back to Irving’s cabin.

The roads are passable, but it’s still more treacherous driving than I’m used to. By the time I make it back, I’m painfully glad to be out of the car with solid ground beneath me.

It’s almost fully dark out as my boots crunch over the gravel of the driveway, and with a deep breath to steady myself, I reach up and knock on Irving’s door.

Only to get no response.

I knock again, and strain my ears, but I can’t hear anything from inside the house. The only thing I can hear is…

The heavy thwack of something hitting wood sounds from the other side of the cabin, followed by a pause, and then another hard thwack that splits through the silence of the winter night.

I head in that direction, walking slowly, not quite sure what I’m going to find.

A floodlight mounted on the side of the house casts a wide pool of light over the yard, and I catch sight of Irving at the far edge of it.

All around him, dozens of split logs litter the ground. A whole winter’s worth of firewood.

Irving is alone in the midst of it, ax resting blade-down on a stump and big body curled inward on itself. His forehead is braced against the end of the wooden handle, and his shoulders rise and fall in long, ragged breaths.

“Vic,” he says when hears my approaching footsteps, and he sounds exhausted. So weary and defeated that it makes my throat tighten. “I’m really not in the mood for—”

“It’s not Vic.”

Irving’s head snaps up, the ax falls from his hands, and for a few long seconds he stares at me like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

“Hi.” My voice comes out thin and hopeful, a puff of steam in the chill of the air.

Irving strides across the clearing toward me, stopping just a couple of feet away, still looking at me like he’s not entirely convinced I’m real.

“Did you drive up here?”

I choke out a startled laugh, because of course that would be the first thing he asks.

“I did. It was fine. I wasn’t in any—”

“Holly,” he groans, closing the last of the distance between us as he throws his arms around me and hauls me up against him.

I bury my face in his neck, and my eyes burn with just how right it feels.

“I shouldn’t have left,” I rasp against his skin. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left without saying something, without—”

“Holly,” he says again, even more broken this time. “Sweetheart. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave without saying something. I shouldn’t have been so afraid of how much it would hurt to lose you to not even try. I’m sorry.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished speaking, tears pooling in my eyes, but when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t make any words come out. All I can do is hold him even more tightly, inhale his familiar, comforting scent, and let myself sink into the moment—the near-painful relief and the joy at being back in his arms.

Irving seems to be feeling at least a little of the same, because he falls silent, too.

We stay that way for a few long minutes, alone in the snow and the peace of the woods, the evening’s darkness falling more firmly around us.

He recovers his ability to speak first. He pulls back a few inches and glances down at me, the sparkle of lights from the pine that’s still shining brightly in the center of the yard reflected in his deep brown eyes.

“Let’s get out of the cold and we can talk.”

I nod, taking Irving’s hand when he releases me from his embrace and following him back to the cabin.

“So, uh,” I say as I glance at the carnage of wood around us. “Needed to take out a little frustration over me leaving?”

“No,” he says, looking faintly horrified. “It’s not that. I just thought if I could make myself so damn tired I couldn’t see straight, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe I wouldn’t do something insane like chase after you and—”

“Show up uninvited on my doorstep?”

Irving’s laugh is low and hoarse. “You’re always invited here, Holly.”

I laugh, too, and it comes out just as shaky as his, then squeeze his hand again and let him lead me out of the cold.