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

Not a Chicken

"I don't have a sexy girlfriend," he announced, stepping into the kitchen.

Tine rolled her eyes and slowly backed out of the fridge. See, Popplewell, you're learning. Not even a flinch.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Oh, are you going to make the cake?" he asked eagerly, pointing at the plate with the pancakes in her hand. Like a boy in a sweeties shop.

"Yeah. And you don't have a sexy girlfriend," she repeated and gave him an expectant look.

And the smoulder is back. Blimey. Is he a Gemini?

"You said last night you were jealous of my sexy girlfriend. I don't have one."

"Good to know," Tina said in a deadpan tone.

If she treated him as an inanimate object, maybe he'd just leave her alone and they can go back to being reluctant flatmates. Except you can still smell his cologne on your pyjamas, but sure, keep telling yourself these porkies, Popplewell.

"So, what goes in the cake?" he asked with sincere interest, pouring himself coffee.

Don't try to impress him. Don't try to impress him.

"Anything really," she mumbled. "Depends what we've got on hand."

He craned his neck to look into the fridge with her.

"Chocolate? Oranges? Chocolate and oranges? And whipped cream on top?"

Just look at his shiny eyes and the excited expression on his clock! It would be so-o-o easy to whisk up something spectacular and make him swoon!

Bad, bad, Tina!

"Sure," she muttered.

"Oh, blood oranges!" He pointed at the fruit drawer, and she winced away from his long-fingered hand in her peripheral vision. He barked a laugh. "Blimey, Clementine, it's like you're worried I'd eat you with that whipped cream."

Clementine threw him a glare and pulled the ingredients out and onto the counter. Prick. Self-assured, overconfident prick. Bugger, why is this working?!

"How about I make us a nice healthy brekkie while you're loading our pudding with sugar?" he offered.

"This kitchen's too small for two of us," she said, starting on the blood orange crème pâtissière.

"I promise to keep my distance," he said and lifted his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "And I can make something simple. Egg and avocado toast?"

Tina nodded, focusing on the custard. She could alternate the orange crème pâtissière and chocolate ganache between the layers of pancakes. Right, you clearly aren't making an effort here, Tina. Not at all. And you didn't just notice that he's watching your 'whisk action' with an appreciative smirk.

"I can tell you didn't learn this in class," he said, flipping a slice of bread and cracking an egg in the hole.

"Because it doesn't look as Good Food worthy as your creations?" she asked snappily, dropping a dollop of cream on the first pancake.

"You always hear criticism when I speak, Clementine." He shook the turner at her jokingly. "Why is that?"

"It's not just you," she said and shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know about others, but I was going to say that you cook with natural confidence, because you've done it hundreds of times before. I, on the other hand, have to recall my training."