Sweetly Isolated (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 1)

Just a Slip

Tina'd had her bathroom renovated two years ago, and even then she hadn't been that careful not to touch anything! She stood with her back tense and straight, trying to stop throwing side glances at the bottles and jars the bastard had lined up on her shelf, and looked around her bathroom. Shockingly, there was no water on the floor - nor particular mess anywhere else. Although, it probably shouldn't surprise her, considering how immaculate he'd left her kitchen after cooking. Tina's cottage was generally magazine photo worthy, but mostly because she was fond of the 'minimalist meets hygge' style. Also, dusting and hoovering helped her work out plot twists, so her cottage tended to be pretty clean. She'd been living as a hermit for four years by now, doing the same thing every day, so she'd just put everything back on the same spot again and again, and then clean the whole space on Saturdays. Sundays were her 'telly and sweets' days - and then on Monday she'd do the same thing again: get up, have her brekkie, write, eat, take a bath, write, have her tea with cereal, and go to bed. And now there were some unfamiliar jars and bottles on the shelf near her bath salts and her favourite Björk & Berries' White Forest Body Wash! There was no way she'd be able to lie down in her usual hot-enough-to-make-a-cuppa bath and relax, knowing the furry menace was outside her bathroom door! And it did smell like his shower gel here! And now there was a second towel on her rack! At least he didn't throw it on the floor crumpled in a disgusting wet ball like August used to. Shut up, Tina! Not thinking about August!

She quickly stripped, climbed in the tub, and turned on hot water through the shower head. She'd just quickly wash and escape into her study to work. She'd go back to the world of murderous mobsters and corrupt coppers, and everything would be brill!

While she scrubbed herself with her loofah, she started feeling a tad guilty for her outburst earlier. He was indeed a judgy prick, and there was of course the matter of him being the Destroyer of Lives, but he'd been feeling dicky, and she'd yelled at him, and had left him sitting mournfully at her kitchen table. What if he conked out, while she's here, enjoying herself?! And he's lying there on the floor, possibly actually with a concussion!

Tina struggled against her conscience for two more minutes, grumbled, and gave in. She hurriedly climbed out of the tub, brushed off the water, pulled on her knickers, her favourite silk singlet, and her robe, and rushed out of the bathroom, leaving behind the pile of her clothes on the floor and a trail of wet footprints.

He wasn't in the kitchen or the lounge. What can he possibly be doing in the bedroom?

And then she heard quick steps behind her in the hall, a loud 'Bugger!' and the sound of a large body meeting the ground with a loud thud. Tina spun around and saw Holyoake lying on the floor on his back.

"Why is there water on the floor?!" he hollered, and Tina immediately felt 47% less sorry for him.

"It's my floor!" she hollered back, while dashing to him, grabbing his wrist, and trying to pull him up. "If I want to pour water on it, I can! None–" She jerked his arm. "Of your–" She jerked again. "Bloody business!"

Let's face it, she was extra rude at the moment because she'd been worried for him and rushed to check on him; and then she'd left water on the floor, and he slipped, and probably hurt himself, and it was all her fault! Bugger!

"If you had any physical strength, you'd dislocate my shoulder right now," he grumbled.

Tina pushed his hand away with disgust. She had physical strength! It's just that he weighed like a 9-hand pony!

"So, where did this water–" he started sitting up, and then he suddenly froze with his mouth half open.

The halves of her robe had opened while she'd been trying to elevate the man. What?! Had he never seen a woman in negligee?! She knew for sure he wasn't a virgin, so what's with the boggled eyes and dilated pupils?! She wasn't his type - Brigit had been going on and on how he was into the busty, curvy, and gifted with long chestnut curls - but Tina wasn't that bad! She angrily jerked the halves of her robe closed, and furiously tied and tightened the belt.