Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) (14 page)

“The guys?” Heather asked.

“Henrik lives with Tyr,” Brynn explained.

“Oh. Oh!” Charlotte’s mouth settled in an
O
. “Oh, honey. Forget your paper. Just come to San Francisco
with us.”

“It’s going to be a quarter of my grade. I
need to write in the lit library so I can look stuff up.” I sighed.
“Thanks for inviting me, though.”

“And we probably won’t even see Tyr. He’s
hardly ever around the actual house,” Brynn added.

“Really? Where does he go?” I asked.

“Oh, around.” Brynn waved her hand.
“Somewhere. I don’t keep tabs on him or anything. Besides, Henrik
will probably keep us busy working on Fred out in the garage or
something.” Brynn rolled her eyes. “He’s such a
nörd
.”

We stared again.

“A nerd,” Brynn translated.

“Well.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. Henrik
was a good guy. Tyr might not be around all that much. And it
wasn’t like I had a lot of other options. “Okay. Thanks,
Brynn.”

“Don’t mention it.” She bounced in her chair.
“This is going to be great!”

“So everybody’s set?” Heather glanced around.
We nodded. “Awesome. Come Sunday night, no more rats.”

“The house is going to feel so empty without
them,” Charlotte joked.

“Thank the maker,” I muttered.

“Oh my gosh, Mia. You are going to die for
Henrik’s kitchen. Did you know he loves to bake too?” Brynn
giggled.

“Henrik? The big dude?” Heather interjected.
“He bakes?”

“Oh,
ja
.” Brynn nodded. “His pies are
legendary. I’ll bet he’ll make his grandmother’s Dutch apple
crumble.”

I raised an eyebrow. Heartbreaker Hercules
underfoot or no, Henrik baking his grandmother’s dessert was
something I most definitely
had
to see.

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, I
threw my
suitcase in the back of my freshly re-tired Audi. Brynn climbed
into the passenger seat and checked her appearance in the
mirror.

“You look great,” I reassured her.

“
Takk
.” She breathed. “Thanks. Head
back to the main road and go toward the forest,” she instructed.
“The guys live in the hills.”

“That’s right. They’re super outdoorsy.” From
what I’d gathered from Henrik, their woodland activities put my
family camping trips to shame.

We drove another mile and turned into the
hills. “Left up here.” Brynn pointed. “And then just head through
that grove of trees.”

“There’s no road.”

“I know. It’s
galen
back here, right?”
Brynn stared out the window.

“
Takk? Galen?
Seriously, Brynn. If
we’re going to make it through the year together, you have to teach
me some Swedish.”

“Sorry.” She laughed. “
Takk
means
thanks—that word’s actually Norwegian. And
galen
means crazy
in Swedish. We kind of mash up our languages.”

“Tyr mentioned that. And yeah. It’s totes
galen
here.” I followed her directions, pulling off at the
forked tree when she told me to.

“It’s about half a mile up ahead.”

We drove until a light shone in the distance.
After another minute, I could see it came from a house. The
building was massive—almost as big as my parents’ place in
Buckshire, but with a rustic country charm. Towering redwoods may
have dwarfed it, but the two-story structure was still fairly
substantial. Large, shuttered windows offset a grey stone façade. A
crimson door with a wrought-iron knocker popped against the beams
of the rail encasing the vast porch, and the makeshift driveway
that circled in front of the house led to a four-car garage.

This house belongs to some twenty-something
exchange students?

“Here we are!” Brynn chirped. “Cabin sweet
cabin.”

“This is nothing like a cabin.” I craned my
neck over the steering wheel to stare at the house.

Brynn shot me a curious glance as she opened
her door. “This isn’t cabin-y to you?”

“Unless
cabin
is Swedish for
stately manor
, then nope.” I stepped out of the car and
grabbed my bag. “Are all the houses like this where you guys
live?”

Brynn shrugged. “Yeah.”

Interesting.

“
Hei hei
, girls. Welcome to the
hus
.” Henrik opened the crimson door of his palatial
‘cabin.’ In loose jeans, a Chili Peppers T-shirt and an open
flannel shirt, he was frat-boy meets mountain man. The
silver-framed glasses he adjusted with one hand added an
intellectual edge.

“
Hei
!” Brynn ran the rest of the way
to the porch and skidded to a stop in front of Henrik.

“
Hei sötnos
.” Henrik cuffed her
shoulder. I still didn’t know what that word meant, but it must
have been a good thing; Brynn’s smile lit up the entire forest.

“Thanks for letting us stay with you,
Henrik.” I made my way to the front door, then handed him my
hostess gift—a white box wrapped with a red ribbon. “I made these
for you; I hope you like red velvet.”

Henrik’s eyes lit up. “I do. Are these
cupcakes? Cookies?”

“Cookies,” I confirmed. He held open the door
so we could step into the house. “My maternal great-grandmother’s
recipe.”

“
Takk
, Mia. We’ll have them for
dessert.” Henrik followed us into the house, holding the box.
“Well, welcome to our humble home. For the weekend, anyway. Will it
do?”

If by ‘humble’ he meant perfectly
understated, he’d hit the nail on the head. Someone with an
impressive attention to detail had chosen colors and fabrics to
create a restful yet rustic vibe. The entry had a soothing beige
and white color scheme, with white wainscoting covering the bottom
third of the walls. An informal living room was to the left. It
could have been the feature story from last month’s
Modern
Country Home
, with a dark leather sectional couch, low iron
lamps on mahogany end tables, and an entertainment center anchored
by the predictable oversized flat-screen. A fireplace sat in one
corner, covered in the same grey stone as the outside of the
house.

“I had no idea you were into design.” I shook
my head. “The grey houndstooth throws are a particularly inspired
touch.”

Henrik nodded at my compliment. “I’m not, but
I’ll take it. We just called Pottery Barn and told them to ship
whatever would work for a hunting cabin. We’re dudes. We don’t
decorate.”

Seriously?
I was familiar enough with
the contents of the Pottery Barn catalogue to know they were not
cheap.
Henrik and Tyr’s families must be pretty well off.
At
the thought of Tyr, adrenaline shot through my veins. I looked
around to see if the house’s other occupant was home.

“Tyr’s not here.” Henrik correctly
interpreted my glance. “He’ll be back later tonight.”

“No biggie.” I feigned nonchalance. He’d
given me a ride. We could totally co-exist.

Oh, who was I kidding? Between the would-be
lovebirds making eyes at each other and the guy I couldn’t have
running underfoot, this was going to be the most uncomfortable
forty-eight hours of my life.

“Relax, Mia. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Henrik gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and sauntered down
the hallway. “How about a tour, and then we can order pizza? I’m
famished.”

“Okay.” My voice sounded feeble.

“You’re staying in here, Mia.” Henrik ducked
into a doorway just off the hall and I followed. A queen-sized
sleigh-bed stood in the center of the room, swathed in plush cream
bedding. Wrought-iron lamps stood on matching nightstands,
bookending the headboard, and thick blue curtains hung from black
rods, pulled back to let in the late afternoon light. Henrik
pointed to the en suite. “Bathroom’s in there, and towels are on
top of the sink. Let me know if you need anything else. Come on.”
He walked out of the room and we followed him up the stairs.

“Brynn, you’re over here.” He pointed into an
open doorway. Brynn’s room had a four-poster bed and navy bedding,
with windows that looked out onto the front of the house. “I’m
across the hall, and Tyr’s down at the end. The office is back
here.” He pointed. “But stay out of there. Scary man cave.”

“Afraid we’ll play with your iPads?” I
teased.

“Mmm. Something like that.” Henrik
chuckled.

Brynn hung back and spoke in a quiet voice.
“Seriously, though, stay out of the office. Tyr’s weird about his
technology.” She didn’t blink.

“Duly noted.”

“Kitchen’s downstairs.” Henrik shot Brynn a
look before jogging down the staircase. “Help yourself to anything
in the fridge. Plates and glasses are up here.” He pointed to the
spotless glass cabinet containing rows of meticulously organized
white plates and sparkling cups.

“It’s obvious an engineer lives here.” I
admired the attention to detail.

“Thanks, but this is all Tyr’s doing. I have
no problem with mess, but it drives him insane. Sometimes I move
one of the glasses, just to see how long it takes him to notice. He
won’t say anything, but when I go to check, he’s always realigned
everything so it’s
perfekt
.” Henrik snorted.

“Sounds like somebody I know,” Brynn teased
me.

“Order can bring a tremendous sense of calm.”
I raised my chin. “Especially in a kitchen.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you two can bond over your
organizational OCD. Sort the pantry according to box size or
something. Playing house might get you two to lighten up already.”
Brynn giggled. My neck prickled as I pictured doing something so
domestic with Tyr.

“I… erm…”

“Seriously. Just relax.” Brynn skipped after
Henrik. “Besides, we’re only here for two days. What’s the worst
that could happen?”

****

Later that night, we sat in front of the
television. Brynn snoozed on Henrik’s shoulder while I worked
through
Much Ado
. Henrik clicked back and forth between the
Oregon/Washington football game and an extreme skiing competition
somewhere in South America.

Henrik looked up from the couch. “How’s the
reading, Mia?”

“Fine, I guess. I just don’t understand why
Hero couldn’t
tell
Benedick to ask Beatrice out. If she knew
Beatrice would say yes, why all the deception?”

Henrik shrugged. “Sounds like everybody was
too pigheaded to see what was right in front of them. And Hero just
wanted to make sure her cousin wasn’t being a total idiot and
sabotaging her own chance at happiness. Come on, you telling me
you’ve never tricked someone into doing the right thing?”

“Maybe.” I smiled. “My brother
might
be a little stubborn.”

“And speaking of stubborn.” Henrik rolled his
eyes at the sound of Tyr’s motorcycle in the driveway. My stomach
churned as I looked to the window, where the swoop of a solitary
headlight confirmed Tyr’s arrival. Every muscle in my body went on
lockdown. “Things cool between you?”

“Cool enough.” I shrugged.

“Tyr comes off kind of rough at first. But
underneath he’s a good guy. He’s just got baggage you couldn’t even
begin to understand.”

“He mentioned that,” I admitted.

“He did? That’s a big step for him. He’s a
pretty guarded guy; he’s had to be with what he does.” Henrik
adjusted the blanket over Brynn’s legs. She smiled in her
sleep.

“He’s military?” I asked.

“Is that what he told you?”

“Yes.” Why had Henrik put it that way?

“
Ja
. He’s military. He’s never been in
a position where he’s been allowed to get close to anyone. He
doesn’t know how to do it.”

“What about Freya?”

“That’s different.” Henrik shrugged. “She’s
like a sister to him.”

Right. The
baben
was hot in a sisterly
way.

At the sound of the key, my eyes darted to
the door. I gripped my book so hard my forearm cramped.

“
Hei hei,
” Tyr’s voice bellowed from
the entry.

“In the living room,
kille
.” Henrik
shot me a reassuring look. “The girls are here.”

“Mmm.” Tyr walked into the room in fitted
jeans, a white T-shirt, and a thin leather jacket. He held his
helmet in one hand and raked the other through his hair. My stomach
fluttered, and an irritatingly familiar tingle ran up my spine.
Stop that
.

“Hi.” I jumped up nervously.

“
Hei
.” One corner of Tyr’s mouth
turned up.

“The rat whisperer guy says we can go home
Sunday night. I’ll spend most of my time in the library, so I’ll
hardly be here at all.” The words poured out of my mouth at light
speed. I sounded like a total dimwit.

“Be here as much as you like.” Tyr took off
his jacket and hung it in the hall closet. When he came back, I
tried my best to look nonchalant.

Tyr looked me in the eye as he lowered
himself onto the L-shaped couch. “Good to see you,” he said simply.
“How’s the ankle?”

“All better. Thanks.” I sat back down on the
loveseat and settled under my blanket. With a conscious effort, I
unclenched my fists and attempted to breathe normally.

I totally failed.

“Mia made us cookies. Try one.” Henrik nodded
at the empty plate. “Oh… guess I ate them all.”

“Typical. Did Henrik show you around?” Tyr
ran his palms over his thighs.

“He did.”

“Do you need anything? Toothbrush? Towels?”
Tyr offered.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Tyr looked at my hands. My book was
positioned in front of me like a shield. “What are you
reading?”

“Um…” I glanced down. “Oh.
Much Ado About
Nothing
. I have a paper due Monday.”

“Huh. Can’t say I’ve read that one.” Tyr
shook his head.

“Neither have I,” I admitted. “In fact, I
should go to bed and finish reading it. Thank you for letting me
stay here. See y’all in the morning.”