Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Avery
T he car wound its way up the mountain road like a snake, each turn revealing breathtaking vistas that gave way to dense forest. I couldn't help but feel both anticipation and apprehension as we neared our destination.
Certain… events kept replaying in my mind like a highlight reel of romantic near-misses.
The almost-kiss in France, then the intimate moment in the Whispering Trees Grove this morning… along with the heart-stopping instant when Brody caught me on the trail, and I chickened out and basically fled.
Jesus, what was the universe trying to do to me?
Apparently, give me a cardiac arrest wrapped in sexual frustration with a side of professional dilemma.
As we rounded the final bend, a picturesque cabin came into view.
Its warm lights beckoned us closer, promising cozy nights by the fire and… no. I shook my head, trying to dispel the dangerously romantic thoughts.
We were there to work, nothing more.
Keep telling yourself that, Avery. Maybe if you say it enough times, your libido will actually listen.
Brody's voice broke through my reverie, smooth as aged whiskey and twice as intoxicating. “Ready for a little wilderness romance?” he asked, his signature grin firmly in place.
I rolled my eyes, desperately trying to ignore the flutter in my chest at his words. “Ready to get some work done,” I corrected him, proud of how steady my voice sounded.
Give the girl an Oscar.
But as we stepped out of the car, the crisp mountain air filled my lungs, and the promise of cozy nights by the fire made my words feel less convincing, even to myself.
I couldn't stop thinking about how Brody had brought up the 90-Day Relationship Challenge.
A traitorous part of my mind wondered if I should just give the challenge a real chance. After all, I could barely control myself around him as it was. One more almost-kiss and I might spontaneously combust.
“Earth to Avery,” Brody called, waving a hand in front of my face. “You gonna stand there all day, or should we head inside?”
I blinked, realizing I'd been lost in thought. “Right, sorry. Let's go.”
As we entered the cabin, I was immediately struck by its rustic charm. The interior was all warm wood tones and cozy furnishings, with a stone fireplace dominating one wall of the living room.
Large windows offered stunning views of the surrounding forest, and I could just make out a hot tub on the back deck. Because clearly, what this sexual tension needed was some barely-there swimwear and bubbles.
“Not too shabby, huh?” Brody said, dropping his bags and spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. “I'd say this beats any five-star hotel for ambiance.”
I had to admit, he had a point. The cabin exuded a warmth and intimacy that no luxury hotel could match. It was the perfect setting for a romantic getaway—which was exactly what we were supposed to be doing.
I pushed aside the thought of how easy it would be to pretend this was real. Or how much I maybe, sorta wanted it to be.
“It's great,” I agreed, trying to keep my tone professional. “Let's get unpacked and set up our workspace. We have a lot to cover before we start exploring the trails tomorrow.”
Brody's eyes twinkled with more mischief than a raccoon in a dumpster. “We could always share a room. You know, for authenticity's sake. Just throwing it out there. I promise I don't snore much.”
I shot him a withering look, but I couldn't help noticing how at home he looked in this rugged setting. The easy way he leaned against the doorframe made him look like he'd stepped out of a lumberjack calendar. I had to stop myself from picturing him wearing nothing but strategically placed pine cones.
“In your dreams, Hawkins,” I retorted, grabbing my bag and heading for one of the bedrooms before I could do something stupid.
“Oh, you have no idea what's in my dreams, Spark,” he called after me, his voice dripping with suggestion.
I slammed the door shut, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. Lord, give me strength. And maybe a cold shower.
Once we settled in and I regained some semblance of composure, we set up a makeshift workspace in the living room. I spread out my notes and laptop on the coffee table, while Brody sprawled on the couch with his tablet, looking for all the world like an Esquire model doing a “Casual Cabin Chic” spread.
As we discussed our plans for exploring the romantic trails, our hands accidentally brushed as we reached for the same map.
A jolt of electricity shot through me at the contact, strong enough to power a small city. I quickly pulled away, focusing intently on my notebook to hide my flushed cheeks.
“So, um, I think we should start with the Paradise Point trail,” I said, my voice slightly higher than usual, like I'd been huffing helium. “It's supposed to have some great lookouts for couples. You know, for the article. Not for us. Because we're not a couple. We're colleagues. Professional colleagues.”
Who definitely don't think about each other naked, I added in my head.
Brody nodded, seemingly unaffected by our touch. The bastard.
“Sounds good. We should probably get some shots of us doing typical couple stuff, you know? Holding hands, sharing a picnic, making out against a tree…”
I choked on air. “What?”
He grinned innocently. “Sharing a picnic?”
“After that.”
“Oh, you mean the tree makeout session? Just throwing ideas out there. For authenticity, of course.”
The idea of holding Brody's hand, even for the camera, sent another flutter through my stomach. The idea of making out with him against a tree… well, let's just say it sent flutters to places decidedly south of my stomach.
I sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. “We'll need to strike a balance between authenticity and, well, actually getting work done.”
As evening fell, I busied myself in the kitchen, grateful for the distraction of preparing dinner.
The cabin's kitchen was small but well-equipped, and I found myself humming softly as I chopped vegetables for a simple stir-fry. Nothing like the rhythmic chopping of carrots to take your mind off your coworker's abs.
“Need a hand?” Brody's voice came from right behind me, making me jump and nearly slice off a finger.
“Geez, wear a bell or something,” I said, turning to face him. He was closer than I'd expected, and I found myself backing up against the counter.
“Sorry,” he said, even though he didn’t look sorry at all.
“Um, help. Right,” I said. “I guess you can grab plates and stuff.”
Brody reached around me to open the cabinet, his chest brushing against my arm as he did so. The kitchen suddenly felt impossibly tiny.
I nearly dropped the spatula I was holding, my hands suddenly as clumsy as a drunk octopus.
“Thanks,” I managed, turning back to the stove to hide my flustered expression.
Get it together, Avery. He's just a man. A ridiculously attractive, funny, smart man who you have to spend the next several weeks pretending to be in a relationship with. No big deal.
After dinner, we settled in for a late-night work session by the fireplace.
Brody built a fire while I organized our notes, and soon the room was filled with the warm glow of flames and the comforting crackle of burning logs. It was like something out of a B-grade romance movie, minus the cheesy dialogue.
Brody poked at the fire with a stick. “I always wondered if I'd make a good caveman. What do you think, Spark? Could I pull off the whole 'me Tarzan, you Jane' thing?”
I snorted—a cover to try and hide accidentally picturing him in a loincloth. “I think you'd starve to death in about a week. Unless they had Uber Eats in the Stone Age.”
“Hey, I'll have you know I'm very resourceful,” he protested, flexing his arms in a way that was entirely unnecessary and completely distracting. “I could hunt and gather with the best of them.”
“Uh-huh,” I said skeptically. “And what exactly would you hunt and gather? The WiFi password?”
As the night wore on, I found myself increasingly distracted by Brody's presence. The firelight played across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes as he focused on his work.
More than once, I caught myself staring at his profile, mesmerized by the way the shadows danced across his face. It was like watching art come to life, if art wore tight tees and made terrible jokes.
When he turned and our eyes met, the intensity of his gaze made my breath catch. There was a question in those deep depths, a heat that had nothing to do with the fire burning beside us. It was the kind of look that made you want to do stupid things, like throw caution to the wind and jump his bones right there on the bearskin rug.
Not that I was even thinking about that. Nope. Not at all. Wine. I needed more fucking wine.
But then, of course, our hands accidentally brushed as we reached for the bottle at the same time. And then, instead of pulling away immediately, we lingered, the moment stretching out between us like taffy. My heart raced as Brody's fingers gently intertwined with mine.
Fuck. His hand was warm and calloused, and it fit against mine like it was made to be there.
“You know,” Brody said, his voice low and husky, “I'm starting to think these 'accidental' touches aren't so accidental.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don't know what you're talking about,” I lied, breaking the spell when I abruptly stood up, mumbling something about needing fresh air.
I practically fled to the cabin's porch, taking deep breaths of the cool night air to calm my racing heart.
What the hell was I doing? This was unprofessional, it was risky, it was… absolutely fucking terrifying how much I wanted it.
“Avery?” Brody's voice was soft as he joined me on the porch, leaning against the doorframe with a concerned expression. “You okay?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The moonlight cast a glow over the forest, creating a scene so achingly romantic it almost hurt to look at.
“Look,” Brody said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “If I've made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm sorry. That's not my intention. I know I can come on strong sometimes, but I promise I'm harmless. Well, mostly harmless. I did once accidentally set my arm hair on fire trying to make crème br?lée.”
I let out a choked laugh. “It's not that,” I said softly, turning to face him. “It's just… this is all so…”
“Complicated?” he offered with a wry smile.
I nodded, grateful he understood. “Yeah. Complicated. I mean, what are we even doing here, Brody? This isn't just some fun little getaway. Our careers are on the line.”
He took a step closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“I know,” he said softly, his voice doing things to my insides. “But maybe there's something here worth exploring. Something more than just work.”
I looked up at him, my heart pounding.
“And if there is?” I whispered, my voice shaky. “What then? We ride off into the sunset on our laptops, typing happily ever after?”
“Then we figure it out. Together,” he said. “We can start by admitting that this whole 'just colleagues' thing is about as believable as my claim that I don't sing in the shower.”
We stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the words hanging between us.
Finally, Brody spoke again. “Why don't we head back inside? It's getting chilly out here.”
As we settled back into our work, I tried to focus on the task at hand. But it was fucking impossible.
Just when I thought I couldn't take the tension anymore, Brody stretched and stood up, his shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing strip of skin. I basically had to roll my tongue back into my mouth like some kind of ridiculous cartoon character.
“I don't know about you,” he said, oblivious to my internal meltdown, “but I could use a break. How about we relax in the hot tub for a bit? I promise to keep my hands to myself. Mostly.”
I hesitated, torn between maintaining my distance for the sake of self-preservation and the desire to give in to the magic of the moment. The idea of Brody in swim trunks, water droplets glistening on his skin in the moonlight, was almost more than I could handle.
“Come on,” he said, his voice a challenge. “I'll even let you ask me embarrassing questions about my teenage years. Fair warning though, there was a brief but regrettable frosted tips phase.”
As I looked up at him, I saw something in his eyes that made my heart skip a beat. It wasn't just his usual cockiness or charm. There was something else there, a genuine desire to connect.
Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to take a chance. To step outside my careful boundaries and see where this could lead.
“Okay,” I heard myself say, surprising us both. “Let's do it.”