Hearts of England Read online
Page 2
"Expenses," he explained. Ben couldn't take his eyes off of Cory's lips as they moved to form words. They really were perfect lips. Full on the bottom, thinner on top and he had the most incredible white teeth. There was something Ben recognised about him and he wondered if perhaps he had seen Cory in a film somewhere. Something about the tilt of his head and the wideness of his grin was so familiar.
"Did you ever do any acting?" Ben asked. Sandwiches finished, they were drinking coffee to extend the driving break for Cory. That seemed like a fairly safe question to throw at his companion.
"No way," Cory said. He laughed quickly and Ben didn't doubt the sincerity of Cory's words for one minute. He sounded completely adamant like that was the last thing on his mind. "My brother is the actor; I'm happier behind the scenes."
"Your brother is an actor?"
"He's the one that inherited the acting talent from mom. She was an actress; Josh is doing better than her though." Suddenly Ben put two and two together. No wonder Cory was so damn gorgeous and familiar if his brother was…
"Josh Vasilyev? Your brother is Josh 'clothes-off-in-every-scene-action-hero' Vasilyev?"
Cory took his concentration off of his coffee and instead looked directly at Ben. There was something in his eyes that Ben had trouble identifying. Accusation? Disbelief? The flush of red on Cory's cheeks indicated anger perhaps?
"My younger brother," Cory qualified. "He's a good actor."
Ben thought back to the last two films he had been to see where Josh Vasilyev was the lead. Neither was an awe-inspiring Oscar-winning masterpiece but both were big budget, action-filled numbers with guns and monsters. Oh yes, and a shirtless Josh Vasilyev front and centre, killing the monsters and bagging the girls. Both films were huge and Ben had loved every single second of the blood and sweat that had made them such great adventures.
"I think he's bloody awesome," Ben said. He didn't add that he had lusted after the gorgeous blond actor in the way a teenager liked a boy-band member. Josh Vasilyev was right up there with Jude Law and Chris Evans. Evidently Ben had said the right thing though, as Cory nodded in acceptance. Ben wondered if there was any jealousy between the brothers. He imagined Josh was in the very rich, verging on obscenely rich, category. Cory could well have been reading his mind when he spoke.
"I am very proud of him but I wouldn't swap his life for mine." Cory leant in to exchange the confidence and Ben found himself echoing the move until they were only a few inches apart and Ben could see flecks of amber in Cory's eyes. He didn't think for one minute that Cory spoke about his brother to just anyone. Who knew what could be passed on to a tabloid paper or magazine. He wondered why Cory was apparently going to confide something. What was it about Ben that invited any confidences? Cory leant back and after a second Ben copied.
"I love his films." Ben wasn't lying.
Cory smiled. "He is the perfect actor for the roles he is given and he backs it all up with women drooling all over him. He loves it."
And drooling men, like me, Ben added silently.
"Shall we make a move?" Cory finally said. He balled his napkin and threw it into the bin, followed by his cardboard coffee container. "Another couple of hours yet."
"Where are we going first when we get there?" Ben really had no idea where he was going or what he would be doing when he got there. Whatever. Have debit card and mobile, will travel.
Cory pulled out his mobile and checked something on the screen. "A place called Griffin Wood Hotel; it's about ten miles outside of Haworth." Cory looked at him expectantly.
"Close to Haworth is a good start," Ben offered. He only said it because he felt as if he should be saying something. The smile Cory gave him was hesitant but it lit up his face. Maybe Cory wasn't an idiot film guy who didn't read. Maybe he was just shy or something?
They were back in the Focus as dusk began to crawl across the sky. Ben knew it would be dark before they reached the hotel and they wouldn't have much chance to breathe in the beauty of the moors on the way up. The change after the built-up Halifax area was forever absolutely stunning and sudden: from city to the Bröntes' wild and windy moors. Shame they would be missing it tonight but he supposed they would see enough in the morning.
"Would you like me to do some of the driving?" Ben asked as Cory started the engine.
"I'm fine," Cory replied. After buckling himself in and checking mirrors Cory pulled out of the services and onto the slip road to the motorway, and they soon joined the snake of traffic north. Ben didn't press the subject of assisting with driving. In fact, he attempted to stay quiet for much of what was left of the journey as it was daunting for a foreign driver to be navigating new road and Cory really needed to concentrate.
* * * *
Cory was thankful he had the driving to keep himself occupied. There was no time to think about anything else when he was concentrating so damn hard on these roads. To be fair, this motorway was straight and as long as he remembered keep left, keep left, keep left, he should be okay. Ben had asked at the beginning if he could help with driving, but the car was insured for Cory and he didn't know what the insurance laws were like over here. Ben had subsided into silence and was looking out of his side window after their stop at the service station. Cory wasn't sure what he wanted, to have the peace or to hear Ben's voice. His voice with its gentle tones that were far removed from Hugh Grant and more redolent of Ewan McGregor when he was pretending to have the same voice as Sir Alec Guinness.
Ben was intriguing and all dark broody gorgeousness with his soulful brown eyes and near-black hair that curled and flicked around his face as if it had never seen a comb. He was taller than Cory by at least a couple of inches. Cory was fascinated by the Englishman and his inability to sit still and be quiet. His company had definitely sent the packs out to the four lecturers but part of him was so pleased that it had been he who got to tell Ben what film they were scouting for. Ben was like a kid at Christmas. His brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and hell, the guy even quoted from the book. Cory liked that enthusiasm in a person.
The ex who had just phoned pleading for money, Tony Abney, never had that enthusiasm. He just had the thought that everything was given to him on a platter and he never loved his project. He had gone hell for leather to making a film and made Cory's fledgling company go through hell before refusing to pay for time taken when the film fell through due to lack of funding. Cory didn't care about the business or the money; he did care that Tony was now an ex-lover after selling a story about Josh Vasilyev's gay brother to the National Enquirer just to raise funds. The fucker. Luckily, if anything, it left Josh smelling of roses as the actor with what the blogs called 'a really cute older brother'.
His cell vibrated and he touched his earpiece to take it hands-free. Talk of the devil and he appears.
"Don't tell anyone, but I got the part." His brother's voice was clear and excited.
"Wow, Josh, that's freaking awesome," Cory answered immediately. He couldn't be prouder of his brother than at this moment. The part Josh was talking about was in the steampunk murder mystery that Ben had mentioned being set in London. Not a huge film in terms of budget or script, but it was Sony Pictures as backer, and following on from the Sherlock Holmes films, Tinseltown was ripe for this kind of movie. The setting was faultless and Josh would be perfect in the role. He sensed Ben looking at him as soon as he mentioned the name Josh. He wasn't entirely sure why he had shared that Josh was his brother with someone he hardly knew. Hell, whenever he met anyone new he deliberately mumbled his surname. Vasilyev was too much of a freaky obvious household name now. There was just something about the slim, dark-haired lecturer with his serious eyes that screamed trustworthy. Not only that but he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, if a little excitable.
"Filming starts in three months," Josh continued. "Who is on the locations?"
"Not me this time."
"I was hoping it would be you." Josh didn't sound disappointed; he was just making an observation. I
t didn't matter if Cory was the one to scout or someone else. At the end of the day Cory's people would find the right places. "There's all these abandoned underground stations and I think they want to find one where Winston Churchill worked in the War. Winston-freaking-Churchill, bro."
Cory laughed. In a way his brother's enthusiasm reminded him a little of Ben. "I'm heading north for the costume drama," he said.
Josh groaned. "Who did they stick you with this time as your support?"
Cory chuckled. On his last scouting job he had ended up with this reclusive fisherman in Alaska who didn't actually speak to him for twenty days out of the three weeks. He and Josh had discussed it at length over beers. Thing was, Cory wasn't ready to share Ben with his brother at this very moment in time. He didn't analyse why. He simply forged ahead with explanation.
"We're staying in a small hotel," Cory said. Changing the subject was a good thing to be doing.
"He or she is with you, isn't he?" Josh was chuckling.
"Yes, in the car," Cory answered with his own laugh. He glanced down at the panel on the wheel and found the switch for full headlights. The evening was closing in but the satellite navigation system was showing they only had another fifty miles to go.
"He or she?" Josh pushed.
"Yes," Cory felt a smirk twist his lips. Fucking brother and his insistence on knowing every part of Cory's life.
"Oh," Josh said. "It's a guy. Is he gay? Hell, is he cute?"
Cory glanced at Ben, who was focusing on his own phone in his hands. Strong, capable hands on a guy who was probably a few inches taller than him, a curl in soft hair that fell in disarray around his face and gorgeous kissable lips. Gay? Cute? Cory knew he could answer both questions very succinctly.
"He said so and hell yes."
"Nice," Josh chuckled. "Maybe he can help you decide whether you are opening the UK office at Pinewood."
"Ass," Cory smiled.
"Later," Josh ended the call.
Ben glanced across at him. Cory could see the move in his peripheral vision but Ben didn't say anything and for that, Cory was pleased. He wasn't able to share his brother's news and as to the cute thing? Ben really was very cute in a slim and wild and messy way. Very nice. This next short time could be quite interesting if Ben was up for some fun. And if meeting cute guys like Ben made it easier to decide on opening the new office then that could only be a good thing.
* * * *
The hotel was just what Ben expected. Built in the eighteen hundreds and made of local stone, it actually looked as if it had been part of the landscape since the dawn of time. The stones had weathered and the trees had crept close enough to touch. Beautiful. Located in a small standing of trees, the structure was set back from the road and had parking for maybe ten cars to the front. This led Ben to believe that even with the wide frontage the place didn't spread that far back, something that was verified when the owners showed them to rooms four and five; Ben didn't see much past room seven.
When they were left outside the door of each room it was Cory who immediately latched on to breakfast, which was available early in the morning. One perk of staying away were the frankly awesome breakfasts and the time to actually sit and enjoy them. Too often back home Ben was racing out of the door on orange juice and toast.
"So meet you in the breakfast room at seven?" Cory said expectantly.
"Seven?" Ben had been hoping for a lie-in given he was on his summer break.
"Sooner we start, sooner we finish," Cory said.
"I'm not sure we need to rush. Three weeks is a long time to explore."
"Three weeks at the outside." Cory frowned. "Hopefully this whole thing will take nothing more than a few days and we can both go home."
A few days? Ben saw his house deposit dwindle before his eyes.
"Don't worry though," Cory continued. "You'll still get paid for the three weeks. It's in all of our interests to get this thing done quickly. I am on a deadline."
Ben pushed down the disappointment. He had been looking forward to showing Cory the real moors, the real Wuthering Heights, and that would take more than a few days.
"Anyway, night." And with that Cory was in his room and Ben was looking at a shut door. Sighing, he let himself into his own room and flicked on the light. The area was cosy, bordering on small, the main space was taken up by a huge king-size bed in chunky oak. Thick dark drapes framed small paned windows and he crossed to look out of them. He and Cory had been given rooms at the back of the hotel, but there was no view as such being as the hotel was surrounded by trees on the three sides facing away from the road. Hugging his arms across his chest, he leant his forehead against the window and allowed himself a moment to contemplate what was beyond those trees. Moors that stretched unending to the horizon, outcrops of limestone, and steps of rocks that dominated the otherwise green areas of pasture and the purple and brown heather of moorland. The carpet of heathers crept across the startlingly empty space that stretched to the horizon and braved every force that nature could throw at them. Tiny and tenacious, they clung to this place like Heathcliff had clung to his Catherine.
Chiding himself for wasting time he unpacked the clothes he had crammed in the large wheeled case and eyed the items on the shelves. He had wondered why Cory's bag had been so small—nothing more than a carry-on and an extra sports-type bag. No wonder he had such a small amount of luggage if he was only expecting a few days scouting for the locations as opposed to the prearranged twenty-one.
For a minute Ben wondered if the hotel was paid up for the full three weeks. He could do with a proper holiday; he hadn't had one for a few years—not since university and his last hurrah with his uni friends for a whole week in Rome. Resolving to ask Cory in the morning, he prowled from one end of his small room to the other, from trouser press to kettle and tea bags. There wasn't really enough room to prowl though and briefly he considered going for a walk in the woods until he realised the windows were wet with the start of late evening rain.
Restless, he turned on his TV; it was coming up to ten pm and he had a choice between the news and a rerun of EastEnders. He couldn't face either so he turned off the TV and instead flopped back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to get over the disappointment floating in his head. Somehow during the journey up here he had wound this story in his head where the two of them spent the entire three weeks immersed in Wuthering Heights and the dramatic scenery of Yorkshire. In this daydream Cory turned out to be gay and he and Cory had some kind of awesome-hot-sexy holiday fling. He'd never been with an American before. Come to think of it, he had never slept with anyone farther afield than the aptly named Patrick Reilly who was in his prose and poetry classes at college and came all the way from Southern Ireland.
Oh well. Given the three weeks had now been nixed to a few days it was probably equally as unlikely the gorgeous man in the next room was gay or even remotely bi-curious. His brother was the poster sex god for women everywhere, and if Cory was anything like his brother, then he was hetero city and had a parade of beauties passing through a revolving door. That was what Hollywood was like if Ben was to believe everything he read.
He had saved room in his case by not packing anything to sleep in. Boxers would do fine and after stripping the rest of his clothes he climbed under the heavy quilt. It was only as he lay down that he realised he had left the light on. With a sigh, he climbed back out but as he reached for the light switch there was a knock on his door. He peered into the softly lit hallway to see a concerned, grumpy-Cory in a T-shirt with his legs bare.
"It's probably something really simple but I can't figure out the TV, could you just… you know…"
Ben looked down at his boxers and bare chest and then up. Being half naked wasn't normally an issue and Cory's intense gaze was focused most definitely above Ben's neck. Still, a small frisson of excitement insinuated itself into Ben's thoughts. Was the request nothing more than an excuse to get him into Cory's room? Glancing up and down th
e empty hall he checked for anyone who would be offended by a man in his underwear and then with a bold grin he grabbed his key card and shut his door behind him.
Cory's room was very similar to his although the bed was a lighter wood and Cory's bag sat in the middle of it still full of clothes. Maybe he wasn't unpacking given the whole 'only a few days' thing.
"I tried to get it to turn on but I couldn't." Cory sounded frustrated and he slumped down on to the bed. Ben was not looking at the edge of underwear he could see under the T-shirt nor the adorably grumpy face that was probably inwardly cursing all things English.
Ben leant over the TV and followed the lead to the socket where the plug was pushed in. The whole thing was turned off at the wall. After flicking the switch the theme tune to EastEnders filled the room and he dove quickly for the control to dim the sound. Well that was an easy fix and needed none of his expertise at coaxing old TVs to work. Didn't American TV plugs need to be turned on at the wall?
"There. It was just not switched on at the wall," Ben explained. He turned to face Cory and almost swallowed his tongue. Cory had decided to remove his T-shirt, revealing acres of toned, tanned skin with a soft furring of chest hair and a treasure trail that led to all kinds of imaginable sin. Coughing to cover his embarrassment and hoping to hell he could leave before his erection joined them in the room, he handed the control over to Cory. Cory was clearly having nothing of Ben's escape and instead launched into talking.
"Sorry if I was a bit short with you in the car. I have an ex who is an asshole and I haven't stopped the last few weeks. I think it's caught up with me." Yawning behind his other hand he stretched.
"No worries," Ben said. A stretching, sleepy, naked guy was sending heat to his groin quicker than a Roger Bannister mile. Quickly he headed for the door and expected a thank you and a goodnight. Instead he got something very different. Questions.
"What is this EastEnders about? I've seen it sometimes on BBC America, some kind of soap opera? Or is it one those real-life fly-on-the-wall things?"