Chapter Eighteen
Eighteen
There was a knock at the front door, and my stomach flipped.
It could only be him.
I was ready and waiting in my Firefly jacket, with just my underwear on underneath. Was that too slutty?
Oh God.
‘Just a second!’ I shouted; I’d lost my nerve and pulled on some jeans. It had been a while, and I had zero confidence in my old seductress routine. I’d shaved all over and slathered myself in oil, and I already felt naked without my body hair.
‘Oh hi!’ I said, swinging the door open and trying to act casual. ‘Fancy seeing you again.’
‘Fancy.’ Henrik stood smiling in jeans and a soft, red jumper, which looked very much like cashmere.
For a man of the woods, he didn’t scrimp on his clothes.
His hair was swept up in a ponytail and he’d combed his beard like a good Boy Scout.
I nearly fell into him trying to smell his neck as he walked past.
So good. All woody and fresh. I’d assumed his scent was au naturel, or from some Scandinavian soap, but now I thought about it, that aftershave was nose-on for Tom Ford. He clearly hadn’t given up all his finance-bro habits.
‘I’ve come to do another check on that wood burner,’ he said with a cheeky smile. ‘And I brought us some drinks – in case it takes longer than expected.’
My eyes lit up as he pulled a bottle of red from his coat. I couldn’t wait to drink like grown-ups, then snog like teenagers.
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ I said, taking it from him.
‘Not a problem. Hmm, just as I thought.’ He nodded at the picture-perfect fire I had going, where three chunky logs were burning nice and slow. ‘It’s malfunctioning.’
It looked totally fine to me. ‘Is it? How can you tell?’
‘At the back there, on the end. Looks like an overactive airflow.’ I bent myself double to see around the logs and he laughed. He’d got me.
‘Let’s open the wine and keep watch,’ I said, playing along. ‘To make sure it doesn’t explode.’
‘It isn’t wine, but close enough. Sorry to disappoint you twice in one day.’
Bloody hell. ‘Not at all! Who needs alcohol, right?’
There weren’t any wine glasses, so we made do with plastic tumblers, and the ‘wine’ looked like Ribena as I poured it out.
I missed my daily glass, and occasional bottle, of Chablis, but I didn’t miss the hangovers.
I had so much more energy since I’d got here which could only be down to cutting out the booze.
My candles glowed green and red along the window ledge, and with the fairy lights twinkling and the snow outside, it felt like Christmas as I carried our drinks over.
‘How was your tree-hugging session?’ Henrik asked, taking his tumbler. My skin tingled where our fingers brushed.
‘Good! I think I’m getting the hang of it. The hardest part is letting go, but Willow was warm and welcoming as always.’
He nodded. ‘It takes time and practice to master, but you’ll get there.’
‘You obviously know what you’re doing when it comes to your mind and body,’ I said, trying to shift the tone. ‘Throwing me over your shoulder like that earlier.’ My voice went gravelly as I relived it. I’d never envisaged myself as a hapless woman, but actually…
Henrik smiled. ‘That’s taken time and practice, too. My body didn’t look like this when I was in New York. I was living off takeaways and carrying an extra twenty kilos.’ He slapped his abs. ‘I had that grey, overworked look about me, you know?’
‘Only too well!’ I said, pointing at my face. ‘Being a barrister is non-stop brainwork and I’m always too tired to cook. My exercise regime went out the window a while back.’
‘You look good to me,’ he said with a wink. ‘It’s hard to do it all. The closest I got to the gym back then was walking past it twice a day, to and from work.’
I couldn’t imagine him pale and overweight.
Lucky me, to have this version instead: rustic and outdoorsy, and solid in every way.
I tried to see him as anything other than an absolute hunk, but he caught me staring at his arms and cleared his throat.
‘So, are you enjoying it here after all? Glad you stayed on?’
‘You know… it’s not the kind of trip I would ever have deliberately booked. No offence. But it’s growing on me. I’m glad I randomly found you.’
‘High praise indeed! Can we quote you on the website? Would never deliberately book.’ He sat back and laughed. ‘Pappa will be delighted.’
I threw a cushion at him. ‘I’m trying, alright? What can I say? I like an all-inclusive holiday. I wasn’t expecting to have to bungee into breakfast and abseil down to dinner.’
‘Yet here you are, relaxing at home in a ski jacket. Ready for anything.’
‘Ready for something.’
Henrik threw the cushion back at me and caught my glass, knocking it into my lap. We both watched in horror as it toppled over, fake red wine spilling everywhere.
‘Arghhhh!’ I screamed, lifting my jacket to contain the liquid and dashing over to the sink. Bright red splodges were already soaking into my jeans but it had miraculously missed both the sofa and the sheepskin rug.
Henrik leapt up, mortified. ‘Sorry! I’m such a clutz. Take it off! I’ll get the salt!’
I unzipped it without thinking, relieved to get some air on my body.
The fleecy lining was not designed for indoors.
Henrik pretended not to notice me stood there in my bra as he frantically ground sea salt over the stain.
It was all very gastropub. I half-expected him to add a sprig of rosemary and pop it in the oven.
‘Will salt still work if it isn’t real wine?’
He stopped and turned. ‘I’ve no idea. I can’t concentrate.’
‘Why’s that?’ I asked, knowing full well. My breathing slowed as his eyes searched mine, waiting and teasing before finally leaning in to kiss me.
‘Must be the heat,’ he said, eventually, stripping off his jumper and throwing it at the sofa. His chest was strong and sculpted and his skin felt warm against mine.
I smiled into his lips. ‘Seems my fire is working, after all.’
Henrik pulled me into him, the two of us lost in each other as we kissed.
He took his time and building me up, then lifted me onto the kitchen counter.
It was a relief to finally give in to temptation; the charge between us had been hard to resist. I shivered in pleasure as his beard tickled my neck, tracing a finger down my spine as he kissed me.
My hands went to his abs and his stomach before going lower to undo his belt.
‘Much better,’ I whispered. Barefoot and bare-chested, in just his battered jeans, he picked me up and strode into the bedroom. ‘I could get used to being carried around like this.’
‘Just say the word,’ he said, laying me down, my legs wrapped around him as we kissed again. He nipped back into the lounge and reappeared with a pair of wine-bottle candles, the soft light casting a shadow over his hairy chest.
‘It’s been a long time since I had a moment like this,’ Henrik said, looking at me tenderly. ‘I want to take it in. You are beautiful, Sara.’
‘Really?’ I hadn’t expected him to say something so heartfelt, and it made me quite emotional.
I didn’t feel beautiful, and I hadn’t for a long time if I was being honest. I’d stopped caring about myself and been piling all my self-care energy into work.
I strategically draped the bedsheet over my legs and stomach and fluffed my hair forward as he climbed onto the bed.
Was I about to have sober sex? Who even was I these days?
Henrik seemed determined to take his time, kissing my feet, then my calves and thighs, exploring my body as he made his way back up.
This felt exciting and new. I’d missed the sign that said ‘rebound’ and was already in way over my head.
Henrik was gorgeous and kind and chill, he total opposite of Mark’s cold ambition and drive.
And his relaxed vibe was clear to see as he devoured me: I lay back and enjoyed every single second of it.