Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

Good Night

"Oh, wow," Ulla exhaled. "I mean, I see." You sound squeaky, Ulla. "Could I have that number of the garage you mentioned? It's getting pretty late, and I'll need to get back to the city somehow." 

And come back tomorrow in the morning again, because I've been sold into this literary slavery for three weeks.

"Yes, yes, of course."

He jumped to his feet and picked up his mobile from the top of the fridge. To do that, Ulla would have needed a ladder. He awkwardly swiped the screen with his left thumb, fumbled some more, put it down on the counter, and started poking the screen with his left index finger - while squinting and blinking frantically interchangeably.

OMG. He's short-sighted. Ulla's done for.

No. More. Men. No matter how vulnerable and adorable they look, while at the same time being the embodiment of one's bedroom fantasy. No more men for Ulla Svensson!

He then picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Evening, Frank," he said when they picked up on the other end of the line. "Oliver Holyoake here." He laughed softly. "Too early for the honorific, Frank. Could I speak to your father, please? A friend of mine is having trouble with her car, and I was– Oh I see. Well, that's–" He cleared his throat. "Unfortunate. Do you think you could find someone to look at the car with you?" He looked at Ulla. "Where have you broken down?" he asked.

"I just passed Fleckney Woulds, on the Eastern road."

"Near the Ainsley Manor," Holyoake translated to the one called Frank. "Just tow it to the garage, and I suppose your father will have to take a look at it tomorrow... or whenever he recovers. We don't want it to be buried in the snow." He threw Ulla a quick look and went back to his conversation. "Give me a ring when you have any news, please." He paused. "Yes, yes, thank you. And give my regards to your mother. Tell her I'm endlessly grateful for the biscuits and– Oh. Good evening, Mrs. Harris," he said, and for a second some sort of grimace almost formed on his face, but he quickly schooled it in a neutral polite expression.

What even is this man?!

"Yes. Yes. Fantastic. Yes." He had to take rather long breaks between the one-word answers he supplied to the loudly chatty woman in his phone. Mrs. Harris apparently had a lot to say. "Yes, I assure you, she's quite alright," he said. "Um– Yes, my guest is female. Which is quite alright, Mrs. Harris. I'm not at all– inconvenienced by it." What's the actual sodding hell?! He gave Ulla another squick look. "No, I'm sure her transportation back to the city can be arranged. Oh. Oh. Oh I see. Oh, yes, you're right. I'll keep your generous offer in mind. And yes, I will delegate it to Ms. Svensson, thank you, Mrs. Harris. Yes, it is. She's an employee of my brother, John, and the acquaintance of Mrs. Popplewell." He listened to more talking, and Ulla thought she saw some sort of mischievous glimmer in his eyes, but his face remained perfectly neutral. Everything about him is perfect. What did you expect? "Thank you, Mrs. Harris. And you too have a good evening. Good night."

He hung up, put his phone down, and slowly lowered his hand near it on the counter. His lips seemed to move, as if he mouthed something, and he stared at his long fingers for a second - and then looked at Ulla with the same mild expression he'd had since he opened the door for her.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Harris seems to have food poisoning," he said. "As I'm sure you heard your car will be towed to his garage. I will pay for all the expenses, obviously," he said.

"Why?" Ulla exclaimed, and he gave her a slightly confused look.

"It's stuck in the snow because of me."