The pipérade was still delish even cold, and Tina enjoyed two servings, an additional mug of coffee, with some biscuits from her tin. She considered offering Holyoake some - he was feeding her after all, and might actually be a sweet-tooth - but he was back on the sofa, headphones in his ears, his eyes glued to the screen. Tina shrugged and took her treats to her study.

Today, writing went significantly better. She killed off a couple of likeable characters and successfully hid the evidence from her hard-boiled DI, making his job twice as hard. Pleased with herself, she decided another skating session was in order - and a nice long bath afterwards.

She had to admit, while making loops and jumps, she kept throwing looks at the side of the rink - but there was no one there, obviously. She cut her work-out short - keep lying to yourself you're just tired, Tina - and plodded back to the cottage.

As soon as she opened the back door she knew what they were having for lunch. Tacos! Salmon tacos! Tina sped up upstairs. Who needs a long dull bath? A quick shower would do. While she was running by the kitchen door, something came over her, and she hollered, "Don't eat without me!"

We all know what came over you, Tina! Every time he leaves a plate for you, you feel guilty. Guilty that he cooks for you, that he has to sleep on a tiny sofa, that you crawled in with him at night... Not now, Tina's libido! No one needs the memories of his body wrapped around yours. But most of all, you feel guilty that you're lying to him, although what it is that you do in life is none of his bloody business!

"Pardon?" His voice was annoyed.

Whatever! Still better than eating alone. She'd rather see his hoity-toity face in front of her than imaging his hoity-toity thoughts. Her therapist always told her that she imagined the judgement on her in people's minds to be much harsher than it really was. Maybe he didn't actually think she was a complete cock-up. On the other hand, remember what Miller said, "You probably wouldn't worry about what people think of you if you could know how seldom they do." Holyoake did strike her as a man who'd simply forget she existed when she wasn't in the room.

"I'll just have a quick shower, and we can eat together," she shouted and stuck her head in the kitchen.

Holyoake stood by the counter, a plate in one hand and a taco in the other, between his long middle finger and his thumb, lifted to his lips, his head cocked on one side, because she'd just caught him before he took the first bite.

Seriously, why is this sexy?!

He put the taco back on the plate.

"Please?" she said meekly. Too late to back out of it and have cereal for lunch, innit, Tina? All your fault. As usual.

He nodded, his attentive gaze on her, and Tina dashed out of the kitchen and upstairs.

***

They ate in silence. Firstly, she was still embarrassed about her previous behaviour. Secondly, the flavourful fish, the cabbage salad, with just the perfect amount of vinegar and fresh coriander, with chipotle lime yogurt and avocado salsa on the side required Tina's full attention.

Tina kept her eyes down to her plate, by the way. Because she'd just discovered she had a taco kink. Well, a 'Holyoake plus taco' kink. So far she'd only seen him eating with a fork and a knife in the most civilised manner. Him using his fingers, biting generous bites, and chewing with gusto might have been a bit too much!

Oh bugger, why did you peek, you daft cow?! She'd just lifted her eyes for a second and saw him wipe the yogurt off his bottom lip with his thumb. Oh Lord. Her sinopses might be overheating. Abort, abort!

And the worst thing was that he saw! He'd definitely noticed that she twitched and cowardly looked aside. She probably had a properly guilty face as well. It's all about guilt with you, innit, Popplewell? No way he hadn't noticed... again! Tina couldn't know for sure, but she probably had the worst poker face in the world, and no way he hadn't sussed out that she fancied–

"Some hot stuff?" he asked.

Tina's bit into her taco - and her finger - spasmodically.

"Pardon?" she rasped out and lifted her eyes.

Ah. He held the bottle of Mr. Vikkis Hot Stuff Original Chilli Sauce™ in his hand.

"No, I'm– I'm good," she croaked.

"So," he drew out, and she of course had to look up from her plate. Oh Lord, he'd just licked his thumb. "Is your... friend OK with you having a 'guest' in your cottage?"

What?!

Tina frowned in confusion. What friend? And what guest? Oh.

"Um... yeah, I supposed he is," she said.

It's not like she was going to repeat all the - admittedly funny - jibes Evelyn had come up. Such as 'did you sneeze on the bloke to keep him from leaving?' The tosser was just taking the piss. And she knew he was sincerely worried.

Holyoake gave her a studying look - what's this about? - and picked up the next taco. Yeah, that's Tina's cue to look away. Damn her newly acquired kink.

They chewed for a bit, and then he cleared his throat.

"You seem to have a rather narrow taste in reading," he said pensively.

This time Tina's eyes flew up, she didn't care if he was chewing, licking - or even breathing! Judgy much?! What a prick!

"Excuse me?"

Oh it's like that conversation with August all over again. "All you care about is your work, Tina." "You need to expand your horizons, Tina." "You might want to go to ballet or opera once or twice."

"Your library." He pointed towards her lounge with the spoon he held in his hand. "It's impressive. Six large bookshelves, and there are more in the bedroom, right? But they are all thrillers and mysteries. Thoroughly selected, excellent assortment, though. You have an excellent taste."

Alright, maybe not that judgy.

"Well, you would know," she grumbled. Oh for goodness' sake, Tina, why can't you ever take a compliment? Her cheeks were starting to burn. "Most of them are published through one of your houses."

"Not Barnett," he said and chuckled. "He's been escaping me for years. He publishes through Rivendell Publishing."

He didn't have to tell her. She attended the same corporate Christmas parties as Barnett. Liv was his agent as well.

"I don't like Barnett that much," Tina blurted out. "He's clever, but he's too careful. He always wants everything to end well. For all of his characters. I much prefer Richards. He kills them left and right."

Holyoake barked a throaty laugh.

"He's a mate," he said and got up to start the kettle. "He always says no character is safe in his books. Except for that redhead, of course."

"Right. He based her on his wife, didn't he?" Tina nodded to her thoughts. "I remember the first novel she appears in. He shouldn't have brought her back in the next one, though."

Holyoake threw her an amused look over his shoulder.

"Why?"

"I get it, it's a romantic gesture," Tina said with a shrug. "And it's sweet. And you can see how much he loves his wife. Her name's Gemma Wright, isn't it?" Tina moved a piece of cabbage on her plate - the only remnant of her substantial lunch. "And she's well-written, don't get me wrong. The characters have such chemistry! And the sex scenes are rad. Surprisingly good for a male writer, actually. But she'd have a much bigger impact as a character if they never met again, after their affair in Greece. He shouldn't have–"

She stopped talking - it's a miracle because clearly you don't know how to keep your god shut, Tina! - because he was laughing! That's not just a laugh, by the way. That's a guffaw! An unrestrained, jolly guffaw! His shoulders rising, and his eyes squinted!

"That's what he says every time!" he exclaimed and shook his head. "Every time we have lunch and I ask him about the next book, he says, 'I shouldn't have brought Amelia back.'"

"Oh," Tina mumbled and gave out a small laugh. It felt odd to be... right. And to have her opinion appreciated.

"And then he says it's worth it. Apparently, his wife also thinks it's a sweet gesture." Holyoake tilted his head and gave her a cheeky look from under a cocked up eyebrow. "He says he's gotten another daughter out of it."

Oh my. Now, her cheeks were definitely burning. Woman up, Tina! You're an experienced adult woman. Shag shouldn't fluster you. Let's face it, it wasn't the mention of shag that flustered her. He could be talking about the mechanics of an oil change in a car, she'd still be all tingly head to toe.

Wait! Wait! Wait! There was something she disliked about him, wasn't there? And not just one something! He was overbearing, judgemental, aloof! And he cared not about other people - that much she knew for sure! Good, Tina, come back to Earth! Let's be honest here, he was all warm and affectionate when talking about Richards, and called him a mate, and told funny anecdotes, only because Richards brought him lashings of profit! And those who didn't were crushed and thrown aside without a second of consideration. And... now Tina remembered why she disliked him.

"I'm done," she muttered, looking away from him again. "Thank you for a lovely lunch. I'll go back to my... translations."

She knew he didn't believe her, but on the other hand, what did it matter? There were just eleven days left.

"What about tea?" he asked behind her.

"I'll have some later," she muttered and left.

She closed the door to her study and stared at the bookshelf there.

There they were, all seven novels by Evelyn Cox. Book Five had actually beaten Richards to the British Book Industry Award. Book Six had gotten her the Gold Dagger. The pen name had been so much fun to choose! She'd chosen Evelyn in honour of her brother, and Cox - as a joke about her hair. Coch, Welsh for 'red.'

Tina took a measured breath in and slowly exhaled through rounded lips. In eleven days John Holyoake would be out of her cottage - and her life. And her secret would be safe. And she'd go back to her normal life: eating cereal, skating, and writing bestsellers. The same way she'd always done. All by herself.