Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Not really. There are corpses. But you never see how the person became the corpse.”
She shivers exaggeratedly. “You say corpse like it’s no big deal.”
I shrug. “You can take the doctor out of the hospital…” If only she knew the way corpses were treated by med students.
“And what’s cozy about all these dead bodies?” she asks. She stands and reaches for my plate.
“Sit down and let me clear the table.” I stand.
“I don’t mind.” I can tell she genuinely doesn’t. But it sounds like she’s programmed to do everything for everyone else and isn’t used to anyone doing anything for her.
“Please.” I put my hands on her shoulder and guide her back to her chair. For good measure, I pour another glug of merlot into her glass of wine. I set about taking our plates and stacking everything by the sink. “And cozy just means you don’t read the violence on the page.”
“And who is your hero’s Watson?”
“Oh, the inevitable sidekick. That’s who most of my edits are about. Madeline. She’s brilliant, but has a day job so can’t take a starring role. But he relies on her. Respects her and…is attracted to her.”
She stands and heads to the sink. “I like it. A little romance in the mystery.”
“And they’re both a bit awkward and don’t know where it’s going to lead. It takes a while to build up to any physical intimacy, but their chemistry is undeniable.”
I don’t realize until I finish speaking that I could be describing Ellie and me.
She slips the rubber gloves on in silence before turning to the sink.
“Let me wash up,” she says. “I can’t have you do everything.”
“I’ve done nothing. You’ve cooked this incredible meal. I’ve made no contribution at all.”
“That’s not true.” She lifts her chin toward the cup with the heather in it. She’s not joking.
“I’m not sure that counts.”
“It does to me.” Her voice is quiet, but I can’t contradict her. Whoever Speedway Shane is, he is clearly a complete dick.
We wash up and I tell her more about the book. She asks me questions and I enjoy talking about the writing and the writing process, how I plan out what I’m writing for the day. I enjoy talking with her about anything.
“It was Mrs. Fletcher’s idea to develop the romance between Benjamin and Madeline. And it works. I like the additional element of working together to solve this mystery but at the same time having this underlying sexual tension.”
“Is she married?” she asks.
“Only to her job. And he’s a widow who’s never really gotten over the death of his wife.”
“And is that based on personal experience?”
The question is unexpected. “My girlfriend never died, if that’s what you mean. And I’ve never been married.”
“Sorry,” she says.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing, Ellie. You can ask me anything you want.” If any member of my family were here, they’d have cartoon eyes out on sticks right about now. I’m renowned for being more private than my brothers, quieter. Probably because I’ve been wearing a persona that didn’t fit all these years. But Ellie doesn’t care if I’m a doctor or not.
“I suppose I was fumbling for some relationship history. You know mine in its entirety.”
“There’s not much to tell. Last serious girlfriend was at university. And then…medicine is pretty all-consuming. When I had any free time, I was thinking about how I didn’t want to be a doctor. There’ve been a few things that each lasted a few months, but nothing serious really.”
“You’re more of a one-night kind of guy?” She groans. “I sound like I’m asking for a ring—I’m not. I just don’t know how to navigate anything outside of…you know. We were together for such a long time.”
She’s not asking me for a ring—I know that. She just wants to feel safe, because she never has before.
I reach over her into the sink, pull off her gloves and then take a couple of steps backwards and sit down on my chair, pulling her onto my lap. “I’ve had one-night stands. I’ve attempted to turn one-night stands into something more. And sometimes that works—for a while—but mostly it doesn’t. All I’ve learned is that if there are hard and fast rules, no one’s told me. I only want to see what’s right in front of me at the moment. I don’t want to look too far ahead, but I know I like you. I know I like talking to you and looking at you and that you have an arse that I can’t pull my eyes from. And I know I want to kiss you again. But that’s only one side of the story. This isn’t just about me. It’s about you, too.”
She rearranges herself on my lap so her legs are astride me and my heartbeat levels up. “I like your bottom, too.”