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

Imagine That

You know how it is with me. This is 1 out of 2 :)

Love you, my duckies!

K. xx

***

After a short conversation, he hung up and informed her that her car would be ready by lunchtime the next day. And she of course immediately thought that it possibly meant another night in his bed - which might be unwise, to think of it. She hadn't slept well the previous night. Hindering the endeavours of her half-awake body would now be even more challenging, since she'd sampled what she'd be keeping her grabby hands away from.

They'd settled to work at the kitchen table - and two hours later she wondered the three weeks they were supposed to spend working together wouldn't be enough. He was the most engaging conversation companion she'd ever had the pleasure to dispute, educate, learn from, and laugh with. He knew nothing about writing fiction - and seemed to find his own inadequacy endlessly entertaining. She knew nothing of his... field of expertise - and suddenly she didn't mind finding out. He had a sometimes wry, sometimes naughty sense of humour - and didn't shy away from an occasional self-deprecating banter.

"No, Oliver, you can't keep it!" she exclaimed, stretched her hand across the table, and crossed out the paragraph on the page in front of him.

"Show some mercy, Ms. Svensson," he moaned dramatically, and she rolled her eyes. "You've already killed off half of my supporting characters," he said.

"And I'm only just starting," she said, stretched again, and another chunk of the text received a green squiggle all over it. "Remember the plan!" 

She tapped her Varius Ivanhoe to the paper in the centre of the table with the 'skeleton' for his book they'd drafted an hour before. He laughed and took a sip of his tea. Ulla finished her coffee and got up to pour herself more.

"Tomorrow morning I'm going to the surgery, hopefully to take off the cast," he said, and she looked at him over her shoulder. "James will drive me."

"Ace," she said and poured cream into her mug. "Does it mean I won't have to be your typist anymore?"

"I'm not sure how much function I'll have in my arm and hand after that," he chuckled. "You might still have to continue helping me to dress and undress."

Ulla gave him an 'are you serious?' look over her mug. The left corner of his lips curled up.

"I still haven't recovered from the last time," she grumbled and sipped her coffee. "I'm not sure I didn't lose some 'goodness points' for what I thought about when fixing your dog collar."

"You're human, Ulla," he purred. "We are all weak."

"Well, aren't we full of ourselves?" she quipped back and sat down.

"It is good to know I wasn't the only one who found that experience stimulating," he said and dropped his eyes to the manuscript page in front of him. "Are we chopping the part with the stables as well?"

And he's back to his polite nonchalant tone as if he didn't just hint that her fondling his clerical shirt did things to him!

"Yes, we're chopping it. To think of it, I'd just send this whole chapter to the bin," she answered, gathering her - shag filled - wits.

He groaned and dropped his head to the table with a theatrical thud. Ulla snorted and drank more coffee.

***

They had dinner, and the question of her calling a cab or staying the night still hadn't been addressed. She was still finishing her tea, when he rose to do washing up. While rinsing the plates, he started humming.