Chapter 6

6

T he shrill blare of the phone jolted Nathan out of a restless slumber. A groan rumbled in his throat as he blindly groped for the offending device.

‘Fucking hell, what now?’

It was a quarter past five. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he glared at the caller ID – an unknown number. His gut clenched with dread. ‘This better not be another bloody PR nightmare.’ He swiped to answer. ‘Aye?’

‘Mister MacMillan? This is Davie Callum with the Blairdrochaid Fire Brigade. I’m afraid we’ve had a wee situation at one of your camping pods.’

The fine hairs on his neck stood on end. ‘What kind of situation?’

‘Nothing too serious. There was a small fire, but my crew responded promptly and it’s been extinguished.’

‘A fire? What the hell happened?’

‘Can’t say for sure. Looks like some faulty wiring. Caused a bit of damage. The stunt crew staying there handled it before we arrived.’

Nausea roiled in Nathan’s gut as images of flames licking at the wooden structure flashed through his mind.

‘Is everyone alright?’ The words scratched in his throat.

‘Aye. Everyone’s accounted for and unharmed. As I said, nothing serious. But the pod is toast.’

The tension in Nathan’s muscles eased by degrees. ‘Thank Christ.’ He squeezed his eyes shut.

‘The scene’s secure now,’ Davie continued. ‘We’ve isolated the affected pod, so no need to rush down here. We’ve got it under control.’

‘Under control,’ Nathan echoed, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

‘Aye. No need to fret. We’ll do a full investigation, but the fire was contained quickly.’

Nathan ran a hand along his jaw, his stubble grating against his palm. ‘Alright. Appreciate you letting me know.’

‘Of course. I’ll be in touch if we need anything further.’

‘Right.’ Nathan’s throat felt thick and dry. ‘Thanks, Davie.’

With a weary sigh, he ended the call and tossed the phone aside, the mattress dipping as he sat up. No chance for sleep now. ‘Can’t a man get some rest for once?’

Four hours later, Nathan was hunched over his desk in the quiet of the study, his eyebrows knitted together as he sifted through insurance papers. The room was quiet, except for the purr of Sir Hubert beside the notebook. Abby was out at school and then off to a whole sleepover weekend with Paul and Becca.

He thumbed through the documents. The words blurred together, but he fixed his gaze on the letters. The fire was a harsh reminder of the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders.

Nathan reached for his coffee mug, the liquid long since cold. Scottish Fire and Rescue suspected faulty wiring. A thought that twisted like a knife in his gut. Yes, he was handy, but he never tampered with electricity. A few years back, he’d tried to save a few quid by hiring the cheapest electrician to install the wiring in the pods. Now it had come back to bite him in the arse.

Guilt gnawed at him. But underneath it, there was a profound sense of relief. No one had been hurt, thank God. It was a miracle that the fire had been contained and hadn’t turned into a catastrophe. Apparently, stunt people were quite adept at dealing with open flames.

He reached for a pen and drummed his fingers against the desk as he scanned the next page. His mind wandered to the one thing – one person – he’d tried so hard not to think about.

Gennie bloody Rivers.

The memory of her charged in like an attack. How she’d looked that day in the woods… holy hell. Tight leggings hugging every contour of her powerful legs. And that skimpy little tank top plastered to her lush curves underneath that open jacket? Showing the swell of her gravity-defying tits and the dip of that tiny waist. Christ, she looked fit. All strength and beauty. Definitely a Lara Croft type. And he’d had a mad crush on Lara Croft when he’d been fourteen. About twenty-four years ago. When Gennie with a G had been…what? Two? Three?

Oh God. Don’t even go there.

But the way she moved… So powerful and graceful. So in control of her body.

And she could do the splits.

On both sides.

He shifted in his seat. His jeans tightened uncomfortably as his cock stirred. It was like being fourteen again, his dick springing to half-mast at the mere thought of a pretty girl. Pathetic, really.

But there was an allure about the unpredictable creature that was Gennie with a G. Something that teased and tickled him. It shouldn’t. But it did.

He traced his fingers along the edges of the desk. It was as if his entire being had been suddenly rebooted after years of disuse.

It wasn’t even her out-of-this-world body. Though yeah, that definitely didn’t hurt.

No, it was the way she carried herself, the confidence and joy that radiated from her like a force field. Then the way she responded to Abby’s invitation, caring enough to consider her feelings. There was a warmth beneath that ballsy exterior. And the sweet curve of her smile… That would weaken any man’s knees.

With a sharp exhale, he pressed his hands to his temples. Shite, he was in trouble. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not with the fire and the film crew descending on Glenwood like a plague of locusts. He had to keep his wits about him, keep his head in the game.

But even as he tried to push her out of his mind, he wasn’t able to shake the image of her in the forest, the way the dappled sunlight had played across her face. The cheeky glint in her eyes, her husky laugh that lingered like the last song at a great party.

His dick stiffened and charged energy coursed through his body. He’d honestly forgotten how uncomfortable this could be, the agony of unbidden desire.

With a grunt of frustration, he tossed the pen aside and pushed back from the desk. Sir Hubert squinted at him with a look of feline contempt.

‘Don’t judge me.’ Nathan cracked his knuckles. ‘You’d be just as distracted if you’d seen her.’

The cat merely yawned and stretched before settling back into a contented slumber. Nathan envied him his peace, his ability to exist in the present without a care in the world.

Unlike himself.

He had to finish the insurance paperwork, make sure everything was in order. With a sigh, he reached for the pen again.

The memory of Gennie lingered on the fringes of his consciousness. But no matter how tempting, he couldn’t let himself be swayed. Not even by a rock-solid ass, a first-class pair of tits, and a smile that could light up the whole world.

Gennie squirmed in the driver’s seat of her rental car. The dim light from the dashboard cast eerie shadows. She shuffled around and tried to make a bed out of a rolled-up jacket and a hoodie. The twilight had long since faded, leaving nothing but the inky blackness of the forest pressing against the windows. Only a few resilient stars made it through the clouded night sky.

As she hit the makeshift pillow, her mind drifted back to this morning’s events. To the small fire that had damaged her camping pod, sparked by some faulty wiring. Nothing dramatic, but thanks to the damage, it was no longer habitable. She’d seen dozens of fires on film sets. Only this time, there were no cameras rolling.

Gennie blew out a breath and thought about the shitty timing. Perthshire at the peak of the fall season, every room booked for miles around. No self-catering cottages, no B&Bs, not even a dingy hostel. Yes, the production team were trying to find somewhere within a reasonable radius, but they needed more time.

She was well and truly stuck.

For a moment, she’d considered asking Melody for a place on her floor. But the idea of cramming into that tiny pod, all elbows and knees… No, thanks. Her pride wouldn’t let her. She was used to toughing it out on her own.

Gennie leaned back, the leather seat creaking under her.

It wasn’t the first time she’d slept in a car, either.

Her mum was lovely, but not very competent at life. Over the years, she’d lost too many dead-end jobs, too many apartments or useless boyfriends. So there were two or three times when they’d lived in her car for a week or two. Long before #vanlife became a thing.

Gennie squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to block out the memories and the gnawing hunger in her stomach. ‘Nope. Not going down that road tonight.’

A sudden knock on the window made her jump, heart banging against her ribs. She whipped around, fists balled. But then she saw the silhouette.

Nathan?

Oh God. This is so embarrassing.

Humiliation burned up her neck. Gennie rolled down the window. ‘Evening.’ She tried to keep her voice casual. ‘What’s up?’

He peered into the car. ‘You awright?’

‘Yep. Dandy.’

His eyes darted to the bundle of clothes on the passenger seat, then back to her face. ‘Sleeping in here?’

Her guard rose, there was that familiar pang of shame again. ‘For a night or two. Until I figure something out. My pod was on fire.’

‘That was yours? Are you okay?’ A flicker of concern lit his eyes.

‘It was. And I am. Just a little crispy round the edges.’

‘You can’t stay here.’ The unyielding severity in his voice brooked no argument.

She was exhausted and the smell of burnt pine still stung in her nose. A part of her liked him that way. Grumpy Nathan was hot. Stern and worried Nathan was fucking irresistible .

Still, she didn’t need his pity. ‘I know Krav Maga and can disarm a guy before he can sneeze. You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘Out of the question. You’re coming with me.’

‘There are no bears in Scotland. I’ll be okay.’

‘Come. Now.’

Surprise nipped at the corners of her mind, followed by a stubborn surge of pride. ’Is this your way of asking a lady to stay the night?’

He let out a curt huff. ‘Didn’t know you were a lady.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Considering we’ve met…thrice. And you still invite me into your home?’ She couldn’t resist teasing him, it was far too much fun. ‘I could be a serial killer.’

‘Then we’ve got another dumb true-crime podcast on our hands.’ He tugged at his earlobe. ‘Look, I…’ He trailed off, clearly struggling with whatever he wanted to say. ‘You can stay in the guest room. Just until you sort something out.’

‘I don’t need a handout. I’m okay.’

But the truth was, the thought of a night out here, alone with the ghosts of her past…kind of made her stomach flop.

‘It’s not a handout.’ He sounded irritated. ‘I don’t like the idea of you out here by yourself. It’s bloody freezing at night. Now stop being annoying and come with me.’

Gennie stared at him and tried to read his expression in the dark. There was something in his eyes, something gritty and genuine that gripped her heart. She looked away, out into the forest. The trees seemed to inch closer, their shadows reached out like grasping fingers.

‘Fine,’ she said quietly. ‘But just for a night or two until I find something.’

He gave a nod. ‘Not a minute longer. Grab your stuff. I’ll wait.’

Gennie reached into the back and snagged her duffel bag. She paused her hand on the door handle. ‘Thanks, Nathan. Really.’

He hoisted a shoulder, the gesture almost lost in the darkness. ‘Nae bother.’

That wasn’t true, and they both knew it.

‘Give me your bag.’

She clutched the strap. ‘I can carry it, I’m a big girl.’

‘You’re actually rather short.’

‘True. But I can do one-armed pull-ups, so a bag is nothing to me.’

‘Do you always have to have the last word?’

‘Only when it means I get to annoy you a little longer.’

He gave a short grunt, and she followed him across the grass. The damp blades skimmed her ankles.

They walked in silence, which gave her the opportunity to take him in. He had an impressive gait. She was particular about that. How some people walked… Moving their hands like paddles, hunched over, bobbing their heads… Not Nathan. He moved with purpose, cocksure, his strides long and measured. His gaze was focused forward, his posture was upright, but not rigid or forced. There was a subtle sway to his hips. A confident swagger. He exuded a simmering seriousness, an underlying strength waiting to be unleashed. As if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and a smouldering fire within.

Soon the lodge loomed ahead, its windows glowed with warm light. The sudden rush of gratitude was so strong it made Gennie’s eyes sting. She blinked hard and pushed past the scratch in her throat. She wasn’t used to this, to someone else looking out for her. It was strange, unsettling. But also…kind of nice.

As they climbed the three front steps, she glanced over at Nathan. His profile was all hard angles and sharp edges. But it had a softness, too, beneath the surface. As if he was trying to hide it.

If the situation had been any different – him a bit younger, her a bit older – she’d have been all over him to dig it out.