Chapter 5 – Bryn
Chapter Five
Bryn
“ F our days alone, trapped in a cottage in the middle of nowhere. What the hell was he thinking?” I say out loud, not expecting Henrik to say anything as he trudges behind me. “It’s the perfect plan if the conclusion he’s looking for is murder.”
Water drips off my face as I look up, trying to make out the cottage in the distance. When Cameron stated his elaborate and very stupid plan, I had thought the bright side of the whole thing would be staying at a very modern, very posh cottage. Cameron was a big-time director after all and would probably want the best for us.
God was I wrong. So, so wrong.
Instead of modern we got a dirt path that was currently being washed away by heavy rain. The car we took here couldn’t make it up the drive and now we were dragging our luggage through mud and who knows what else. And instead of posh…well, I just hoped to the high heavens that there was at least a coffee machine and wine waiting for me.
I requested a lot of wine be made available at the cottage to get me through the next four days. The amount of time I was going to be trapped with Henrik.
“Watch your step there,” he calls out to me. I barely hear him over the pounding of my heart. My legs are burning as we climb the final steps to the clearing. I’m about to say something cutting and clever back to Henrik–I don’t need his help walking–when my foot slips from under me.
The sudden momentum has me falling backward. Bracing myself for the impact on the rocks, my body stiffens. But I didn't hit the ground. Firm hands grip me around the waist and hold me tight to a soaking wet chest.
Opening my eyes, I stare in wonder at Henrik. He saved me.
Rain drips off his face as he looks down at me. Scanning me for any injuries. I’ve never been this close to him before. He’s an attractive man, anyone with eyes can see that, but up close…he takes my breath away.
There’s a light patch of freckles under his left eye that makes the edges of my lips tingle with a smile. His green eyes rival mossy hills this close and I can spot flecks of gray. His grip around my waist tightens briefly as he adjusts his hold and I can’t help but feel the bulge of his muscles.
Slowly, and with more care than I probably deserve with all the sass I’ve been giving him lately, Henrik helps me to stand.
“You okay?” He asks, not taking his hands off me until I’m steady.
“Yeah. Yes,” I say again, pushing back the wet hair that’s fallen into my eyes. “Thank you.”
He gives me a nod before circling me and taking the lead the last few steps to the cottage. I watch him feeling something I haven’t before when he’s been near.
Giving my head a shake, I grab my suitcase and rush the final steps.
“Thank God,” I laugh, a little nervously now as my gaze once again goes to Henrik’s muscular arms. When the hell did they get so…big? Had they always been so…oh God, I needed to cut this line of thinking off. “This rain was not in the forecast.”
“It’s good though. The forest needs the moisture now that we’re in peak wildfire season.”
“You know when wildfire season is? In Canada?”
Not looking back at me, Henrik fiddles with the front door, trying to find the right key on the ring that the driver gave us. After his big proclamation, he stopped acknowledging Henrik and me and only spoke directly to our PAs to hash out the finer details.
“Yeah, I’m from British Columbia. Wildfires are a big issue.”
“I didn’t know that,” I muse.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Princess.” His words end on a click. The front door of the cottage opens. Glancing over his shoulder at me, Henrik raises his eyebrows.
I don’t have a comeback for him. Because he’s right. There is a lot I don’t know about him. If you had asked me yesterday if I gave a crap about that, I’d have said no. I loathed the man, why would I want to know more about him.
Now however, there was a tingling sensation in my belly that made me more aware of him than ever before. Curiosity was going to get the better of me. I couldn’t let it.
“Jesus,” Henrik whistles, “look at this place.”
Stepping through the threshold my head is down, watching my feet so I don’t trip over the small ledge leading into the cottage. At Henrik’s words, my gaze snaps upward. I’m not sure what I’m expecting but this is not it.
Cameron strikes me as a man who likes all modern comforts. High end appliances, crisp cool white walls and thermostats. This is the exact opposite of that.
What was he thinking when he approved this place? From the inside, this place could be considered more a cabin than a cottage. It was kinda small.
The walls are a light rustic green, pulling in the light from the huge window that takes up most of the back wall and making the space look bigger than it is. Sunbeams radiate around the room, hitting every corner and crevice.
The furniture is plush, designed for cozy nights reading or watching the fire dance in the stone fireplace. Blankets and pillows are everywhere–the sofa, the chairs, even on the floor. This is the definition of rustic living.
A laugh escapes me.
Henrik’s head swivels to me, a small smile on his face already. “What’s so funny?”
“I never pictured Cameron as someone who likes the color plaid. There’s…a lot of it in this room.”
Agreeing with me, he walks to the sofa and gives one of the plaid green pillows a plumping punch.
“Yeah, it’s definitely everywhere.” There’s a pause. Turning a full watt grin at me, I stagger back a step, taken aback by the mischievous glee on his face. “Do you think the bedrooms are floor-to-ceiling plaid too?”
For a moment, we stare at each other, letting the words settle around us. Then, like a flash, we both dash towards the small alcove on the left, assuming that’s where the bedrooms are. Like little kids, we laugh and howl at each other as we slip and slide on the hardwood floor.
Henrik slips sideways into the wall, a light thud sounding at his impact. His small grunt has my smile widening as I gain the advantage and slide into the first doorway. Thinking I’ve won, I throw my arms up in the air.
“I–oh crap,” my victorious cry ends on a shocked exhale. I haven’t won at all. This isn’t a bedroom, it’s the stairway to the loft upstairs.
“It’s blue plaid!” I hear Henrik call out. Elation in his voice as I’m sure he’s realized he’s won.
Leaving the tiny stairway, I head towards his voice. It’s easy to find him since there’s only one other doorway down this hallway.
“What color was your room?” Henrik asks. He’s already made himself comfortable on the bed, hands behind his head and feet crossed at the ankles. He looks good, really good lying like that. Comfortable and come hither-y.
His muscles are out and on full display again in this position, even if he is relaxed.
Nope. No, I was not going to think about him like that. I needed to remember that I didn’t really like this man. There was no way I was warming up to him. No way.
“Umm, it was,” I cleared my throat when my words came out horse. “It wasn’t a room. It was a stairwell to the loft, I think.”
That has him sitting up quickly. “A stairwell? Where the hell is the other room then?”
“Probably on the other side of the cabin,” I waved my hand, dismissing his question. Because there has to be another bedroom.
I don’t quickly spin around and march back to the main area as fast as I can because I’m nervous the cabin only has one bedroom. No way. I’m as cool as a cucumber.
My feet take me around every square inch of the space but I don’t find any more rooms but the kitchen. And there is definitely no bed in there. Henrik is right behind me but I pay him no mind as I run to the stairwell and dash up the steps to the loft.
“That son of a bitch,” I hear Henrik laugh.
My eyes are wide in disbelief. There’s nothing up here but another sofa and cramped bookcase after cramped bookcase. At any other time I would be mystified by this stunning personal library, but right now I’m not believing what I’m seeing.
There’s only one bedroom.
There’s only one bed.
“He wouldn’t,” I say to myself, not realizing my whisper carries down the open space.
“Apparently he would.”
Covering my face and closing my eyes, I try to take a deep breath and tell myself everything will be okay. I need just a moment to be dramatic and then I will shake it off and find a way to get through the next couple of days.
The space wasn’t big, but there was a whole forest to explore. I could spend my days outside rehearsing lines and not seeing Henrik until I came inside and…bunked down on the sofa.
Shit. What a nightmare.
Letting my hands fall, I accept that Cameron did this to test us, and square my shoulders.
I’ll be fine. I’ll get through this. I repeat my new mantra over and over in my head as I descend the stairs back to the main area.
“You take the bedroom,” Henrik says, grabbing his duffle and walking to the sofa.
“No, you take it. You got to the room first.”
Giving me a look of both amusement and pity he shakes his head. His hair momentarily falls into his eyes before he pushes it back.
“Naw, that was just a silly race. Take the bedroom. I’m perfectly fine here.”
“I don’t need your pity Henrik,” I say with more force than I mean to.
“I’m not pitying you Bryn. But I have slept in far worse and much more uncomfortable places than a plaid sofa with a million pillows.”
I open my mouth, unsure of what I’m about to say, when he cuts me off. “For the love of God, Princess. Stop fighting me. Just take the room.”
I don’t reply. Instead, I spin on my tiptoes, grab my suitcases and march to the bedroom. Only stopping when the door has been slammed behind me and my back is resting against the wood.
It’s not until I’m safe in the room that I let myself admit that I’m taking this grudge too far.
I’m not mad anymore at Henrik. The loathing that simmered in my belly every time I looked at him has morphed into something else. I now have to play the bitch card to keep the act going and it was getting exhausting.
Yet, if I was going to let the past go and act semi-normal around him for the rest of our time here, that meant I would actually have to talk to him and air out my frustration. Maybe then we could move forward as…amicable colleagues? Whatever, something along those lines.
I just had to summon the courage and energy to have that conversation.
Blah.