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

Bed Bubble

She ended up settling in bed with her laptop - and a tray Holyoake had brought for her. She threw a sad look at her coffee mug, an empty plate where there used to be three large muesli muffins, and a bowl, which just a few minutes ago contained fruit salad. The nosh had been delicious, and painkillers always made her additionally ravenous. She'd like more of each, please and thank you - but she already felt awfully guilty about him carrying her around and making her food. And kissing the top of your head when he was leaving after putting the tray on your lap. Do you remember that part? Shut up. She told herself that he was just being decent and he'd be that caring towards anyone in her situation. I'm sorry, are we talking about the same person? her inner voice said in a manky venomous tone. John Puffed-up Tosser Holyoake? Are you saying, if it were a random stranger in this bed, John Posh Bastard Holyoake would cut mango, pineapple, an orange, a kiwi, and a pear in perfectly equal cubes, add strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries, sprinkle all of it with honey and lime dressing, and put a little branch of mint on top? Exactly.

She couldn't write. For that she would need to be in her study, have the right music in her headphones, and do her special inspiration dance to Gangsta's Paradise from time to time. Neither was available to her at the moment.

A knock came to the door. He waited for her to answer to stick his head in.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"More coffee, please?" she said.

He threw a glance to the tray. "And more food?"

"Yeah, sure, if there's any left," she answered offhandedly.

He came in and picked up the tray.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," she said. "Like I said, that's far from the first time. As long as there's a memory foam pillow behind my back, and there's this one angle–" She gestured vaguely in the air. He followed her hands with his eyes. "Yeah, I'm OK," she finished awkwardly.

He nodded and left. Tina opened her Mac and turned on Midsomer Murders. Her thoughts wandered. Holyoake was back five minutes later, with muffins and more fruit. He left again, and Tina finished everything. She put the tray on the floor near the bed, gritting her teeth and making pained little huffs, and then crawled back into her nest.

She was, put simply, bored. She could do research, of course, but painkillers made her groggy and sort of scattered. She wondered what he was doing downstairs in the lounge.

She distractedly watched Barnaby Numero Duo stumble through the investigation while bodies piled up, when another knock came. Thank goodness.

"Yeah?"

He once again stuck his head in.

"Are you– alright here?" he asked in an uncertain voice.

"Yeah. Why?" Oh please, find some sort of a question I need to answer - or pick up an argument with me even! She was so bloody bored!

"I– I'm just–" he muttered and stepped into the bedroom. He had his laptop in his hands, and - OMG! - the glasses were pushed up in his hair. He looked uncharacteristically insecure. "I'm just worried that you'll need something and I won't hear you. Do you mind if I–" he started.

"Stay here?" she cut in in gleeful anticipation.

"Give you my number," he said at the same time.

Tina's cheeks flamed up. Oh bugger. Bugger. Bugger.

"That could work too," he said and grinned.

Tina whipped her head and stared at the screen. DS Winter was once again walking around without his suit jacket, showing off his physique.