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Whatever I woke up prepared for today, it was not reading a very graphic sex scene in a library between a blonde-haired woman and a man who was described as looking exactly like me.
Although I did appreciate how long she’d spent glorifying a fictional penis.
I was rather fond of mine, and it was good to see that kind of appreciation in literature.
I tapped my fingers against the desk. Ellie was clearly drawing a lot of inspiration from her surroundings and the people in it—there was a sticky note on the wall noting about a pensioner book club to be written—so it was quite easy to assume this hero was, in fact, me.
And what the fuck did I do about that?
There were a lot of questions in the heroine’s point of view wondering how the hero was single, and it wasn’t too much of a stretch to align those thoughts with Ellie’s own. She knew I was single, and there was no doubt that Penny had told her just how very single I actually was.
I chuckled.
Ellie was something else.
“Stupid cat. Stupid fucking disappearing magical Houdini of a rat bastard cat!” The door slammed to finish Ellie’s tirade, and I turned around just in time to see her walk through into the living room.
She froze in the doorway.
“Good morning,” I said quietly, drumming my fingers against the desk.
She swallowed, looking between me and the laptop. “What are you doing here?”
I pointed towards the kitchen. “Returning your cat.”
“Why are you sitting there? Did you—wait, what?” She blinked. “You found Winston?”
“In the goat barn on the hay bales. If I didn’t think the goats would eat his food, I’d just suggest you set him up there for the rest of your stay.”
“Is he all right?” She rushed into the kitchen, swinging the door open. “Winston! You little shit!” She returned to the living room, hugging him tightly, and buried her face in his fur. It only lasted for a second before she held him at arm’s length and glared at him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you? Do youknowI’ve been through hell and back for the last ninety minutes searching for your dumb, fluffy arse?”
Winston said nothing. He merely hung there in her grip while I watched on, more than a little amused.
“You stupid thing,” she murmured, pulling him back into her body. He meowed and wriggled until she had no choice but to let him burst free.
Winston landed on all four paws, shook out his fur, and shoved his arse in the air in an excellent imitation of the downward dog to stretch before trotting out of the room without a care in the world.
Ellie slowly turned to look at me. “You’re sitting at my laptop.”
“Cleverly observed,” I said, relaxing back into the leather chair. “Purely by accident, I can assure you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Did you trip and fall into the chair?”
“I did. It was seeing my name in the title that tripped me up.” I cast my gaze over her face, but she didn’t even twitch. “Naturally, I was intrigued.”
“It’s rude to read someone’s private documents. Not to mention that’s a first draft and full of mistakes.”
Slowly, I nodded. “I did notice a few typos. There are a couple of paragraphs in third person in there, too, so you should probably check on that.”
“Oh, my God!” She reached out and waved her hand through the air as if she was going to swat my arm before pulling back. “You can’t just read that! That’s mywork!”
I ran my tongue over my top lip. “Then don’t put my name in your title. I must say, I did enjoy it. You seem to be quite the fan of the hero.”
Ellie folded her arms across her chest. “I have no idea what you’re insinuating.”
“Let’s see.” I turned around and reached for the mouse, but she darted forwards and grabbed it away from me. “It’s a laptop. There’s a trackpad.”
“Shit!”
