It’s a twenty-minute ride on snowmobiles to the secluded cabin. The silence between Henri and I is cut through by the whirring of the engine as we ride over the snow. When we arrive, we find The steps to the porch are covered with snow and there’s no sign of the driveway that’s accessible during late spring and summer.
We don’t speak as we head inside, carrying in our supplies. The moment I put down my load, I flip on the lights and head to the thermostat to crank up the heat. As is, even inside, my breath is hanging in the air.
“It should be good within the next hour or so, but until then we should just keep on our coats. I can make some soup for dinner so we can have something to warm up,” I explain.
“That would be great,” Henri says, pulling her hat lower over her pink ears.
She claims one of the three bedrooms and unpacks as I turn on the stove and get to work. The chicken noodle soup comes together quickly and I ladle out bowls for the both of us.The cabin has internet, but the TV we have isn’t set up with streaming services, just a dusty DVD player that I putHome Aloneinto and press play, because I can’t handle another minute of this excruciating quiet.
Even if I try to talk to her now, I doubt she’ll listen. I just wanted to take care of her. That’s it. Especially since I was the one who put her in a precarious position to begin with.
By the time the credits roll, the heat still hasn’t kicked in, at least the house is well insulated so it’s not as cold as outside, but it’s still brutal. Yeah, the plan for a grand romantic getaway is going great. We’ll freeze to death being frustrated with each other.
“I’m going to head to bed,” Henri says, speaking for the first time since the mutteredthank youshe gave when I handed her the soup bowl she’s now carrying into the kitchen.
“Do you need extra blankets?” I ask.
“I found a sleeping bag in the closet. I should be good.” The message is clear:I don’t need you. Fuck off.
I wake up to my teeth clacking together. It’s a damn miracle that I could sleep at all, but after a long day, my body must have just shut down. I flex my hands to find them stiff and numb. Checking the small clock next to the bed, I find that it’s two in the morning.
Great. Still hours until the sun is up.
I toss back and forth for another few minutes before gathering my blankets and heading to the living room to build a fire. There’s plenty of wood and there’s a chance we might need to use it all. At this point it would be best to head back the moment it’s light out—there’s no point torturing ourselves in these conditions.
My hands are clumsy as I put the logs and kindling into position. Thank God Dad got past his aversion to commercial firestarters, otherwise I’m not sure I’d get the flames to come to life.
Once I’m sure the fire won’t choke out the moment I walk away, I go back down the hall to where Henri is sleeping. She selected the room June and Pen would share and it looks like she collected all the blankets from both beds. Only her nose pokes out but the mass of fabric shakes as she shivers.
I go to her and peel back a layer. “Henri, come on.”
“So cold,” she mutters. Her eyes crack open, but they’re gauzy with sleep.
“I know. Come here, let me get you warmed up.”
She nods slowly and tries to move but she’s trapped herself in the sleeping bag. After her second failed attempt to locate the zipper, I free her from the sleeping bag and scoop her up. I know the only reason she nuzzles against me and claws at my shirt is the combination of cold and sleep, but that doesn’t stop me from liking it.
In the living room, the fire is crackling and I sigh in relief as the warmth licks at my skin. I lower the bundled up Henri on the blankets and pillows I’ve arranged before joining her on the ground.
Not giving her time to protest, I wrap a blanket around her and pull her to my chest.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbles even as she relaxes against me.
I stroke her hair, fighting the urge to kiss the top of her head. “Then be mad at me and be warm. Be mad at me, but be safe while you do it.”
“Fine.” The word drifts out of her as her eyes flutter closed.
For the first time since we got to the damn cabin, I finally feel warm. Henri shifts in her sleep, one of her legs draping over meso she’s all but laying on me. I squeeze her tighter and it’s not lost on me that this might be the last chance I get to have her this close.
A sudden jolt of friction spurs me into consciousness, and my eyes fly open. The fire has burned to embers, it wasn’t the smartest idea to leave it going unattended while we slept, but it was the only option we had. Gold light streams through the window, pooling around the nest where Henri and I fell asleep. Where she’s now rocking against my leg, whimpers escaping her as she dreams. Her hands clutch at my shirt and with each movement her thigh rubs against my dick.
“Liam,” she says, my name barely recognizable in her sleep-slurred speech.
Henri, dreaming of me? At least she doesn’t hate me in her sleep, but I don’t think I’ll earn any brownie points with awake Henri if I let this keep going.
I groan as I extricate myself from her grip, but fuck she’s holding on tight to my shirt. Maybe if I just wriggle out of it? I pull the free arm that isn’t under her out and start to shimmy out of the fabric.
Almost there. I just need to get my head through.
