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

Jammy Indeed

When she woke up it was already dark. Tina nuzzled the pillow nearest to her - mmm, such a fresh, citrus-y smell! - and gingery moved her hips. The pain was much less intense, she mostly felt stiff. And hungry! Blimey, she was famished! She carefully sat up and searched for her phone in the dark. The charger dock was empty.

She slowly slid off the bed and plodded downstairs. In the middle of the stairs her nose started twitching. It smelled amazing: spicy, and flavourful, and sweet! The aroma profile was unfamiliar, and Tina tiptoed to the kitchen.

Holyoake stood his back to her, frying something on the stove. Tina's mouth watered - and not just from the delicious smell of the cooking meat. Talk about umami! His dark denim sat low on his hips, and the soft long sleeved shirt accentuated the muscles on the back. Bad, bad, Tina! Stop drooling over this picture! Think about it like those Dandan noodles you saw in the restaurant in Abernathy: it looked divine but since you can't handle spicy food, you'd probably... die afterwards. John Human Equivalent of Dandan Holyoake.

"What're you making?" she asked, craning her neck.

Oh wow, it works the other way around too! He jumped up so hard that the tongs flew out of his hand and onto the floor. Tina squeaked and pressed her hand to her chest. He'd also banged his knee into the oven door, and was now rubbing it, cringing.

"Blimey, I thought you were asleep." He turned around. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," she said and sat down at the table. "What's that?"

"Harissa lamb chops," he said. "It's Moroccan. And I'm making vegetable couscous."

Tina rubbed her hands in anticipation and looked around the kitchen hoping for a snack. He chuckled, opened the fridge, and took out a bowl of hummus. He put it on a larger plate, which had already had thin triangles of pita arranged on it, and placed it in front of her.

"God, I love you," she uttered, dipped a slice in the hummus, and bit a generous piece. She looked up and met his eyes. "Isn't our lamb going to burn?" she asked, since he just stood there with a blank face.

"Ah, right," he muttered and turned back to the stove. "I reckoned you'd be hungry since you slept through lunch. It's almost six."

Tina chewed and hummed, hardly listening - and then she heard him!

"Six?" she croaked and quickly swallowed. "I was supposed to go for a walk with Edwin in the afternoon!"

"That explains a phone call at around three," he said nonchalantly, still facing the sizzling grilling pan.

"Where's my phone?" Tina exclaimed, jumped up, and then dropped back on the chair with a pained yelp.

Holyoake was near her in a split second.

"Stop jerking your poor hip," he muttered and squatted in front of her. He was so tall that their faces were level. "Shouldn't you go back to bed? I'll bring you dinner up."

"Where's my phone?" she asked suspiciously.

He emitted an exasperated sigh, got up, and walked out of the kitchen. Tina stretched her neck as much as she could to see the lamb.

"Here, I took it out of the bedroom when you fell asleep." Holyoake stretched his hand to her, and she grasped the phone.

"Thank you," she said.

He shrugged. "What're you thanking me for? It's yours."

Tina was already scrolling through her log. There wasn't much there to see: an email from some distant cousin in Ulster, a few spam messages - she tended to subscribe to all sorts of newsletters, from crystal therapy to 'find your perfect morning routine,' when she was feeling particularly low on self-love - and a missed call from Dr. Montjoy.