Page 43 of Slow Burn Summer

“Yeah…that kind of unexpected,” he said after a surprised pause. “And then something like this might happen”—he braced one hand flat on the wall beside her head and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek—“and he might say he’d never met anyone quite like her in his whole life.”

The warmth of his breath fanned her lips, and Kate’s breath caught in her throat.

“Maybe you did write those rom-coms after all,” she said, unguarded.

He was close enough for her to see the micro-expression of hurt flicker through his eyes before he caught it. They hadn’t really talked about his previous career, what she knew or didn’t know. He stepped away, and she floundered for the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Forget it. I’ll go, let you get some rest,” he said, lifting one shoulder as he backed away. “I’ll see you at the studio.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, unsure what she’d say anyway.

22

Breathing exercises. Square breaths, triangularbreaths, all the breaths. Count five things you can see, hear, touch, smell, and taste. Kate’s answer to all of those questions at that precise moment would be fear, fear, fear, fear, and fear, because she was seated on the familiar redGood Morning Showsofa waiting for Ruby and Niall to introduce her. It felt weirdly like a fever dream, as if she’d fallen asleep and woken up inside the TV. She’d rehearsed with Charlie for this kind of thing, and filled out countless online interviews over the last few months where she’d honed her answers to the mostly similar questions:red licorice; two thousand words a day, mostly early morning or late at night; she’d been writing for some years, although this was her first published book.The answers jostled around in her head—she just hoped she could find them when she needed them, because there was no editing live television. She could feel herself spiraling and had to fight the instinct to bolt, but then Ruby gave her a jiggly little thumbs-up and they were live to the nation in five, four, three, two, one.

Something inside clicked under the lights and cameras, an awakening of old memory-muscles. She could do this. She knew the answers to any question they might throw at her, and she was going to represent the hell out of this book.

—

She was doing it. Answeringtheir questions, smiling, and gosh the sofa was actually quite comfortable when you relaxed into it! This really wasn’t so bad, she had to be at least halfway through her six-minute slot. She’d managed to talk eloquently about the book with what felt like ease and relevance, a copy of it on her lap with the cover angled toward the camera. At this rate, Fiona was going to be raising her martini at the TV.

“So as a romance writer, I’m guessing you must be a born romantic in your personal life too?” Ruby said, warm and smiley and exactly how she looked on the television.

“Well, I guess so,” she said, trying not to think about the night before as she glanced over at Charlie standing behind the camera operator. “Flowers on Valentine’s Day, dinners on wedding anniversaries, those kinds of things, you know.”

“I sure do,” Niall said. “My lovely wife and I have been married ten years on Sunday. Any top tips on how to keep the romance alive?”

Kate laughed. “Oh, I’m probably not the one to offer advice on that score, I’ve done some spectacularly stupid things over the years. I even tried to shave my pubic hair into a love heart for my ex-husband’s fortieth, only I slipped with the razor and put a jagged line straight down the middle. Broke my own heart, so to speak, then a few years later my husband did the same thing.” She stopped speaking and cleared her throat. “Broke my heart, I mean, not shaved his pubic hair. God, I’m sorry, can I even say pubic hair on morning telly?”

Niall was trying hard not to laugh and looked at his co-host to reply.

“The things we do for love,” Ruby said, brushing over it.“Speaking of which, tell us more about getting stranded on a train with your first love over the weekend—you had the nation enthralled!”

Deer-in-the-headlights fear crept up Kate’s body. She looked down at the book on her knees, at her name in gold. What would Kate Darrowby, romance writer, say next?

“It was just one of those random things,” she said. “One of life’s magic moments.” She didn’t dare glance at Charlie as the words left her mouth.

“I love that so much,” Ruby said. “And you said you didn’t recognize each other straightaway. What made it click into place?”

Had she said that? “Well, I hadn’t seen him for over twenty-five years. We both looked pretty different. Eyes don’t change, though, do they? His are a distinctive shade of…blue. Pale blue. Like a husky.”

Ruby’s eyes rounded a little, but she ran with it. “It feels like fate threw you two back together at just the right moment. Is it too soon to ask if you’ve met up again?”

“Um…no, not yet,” Kate said, seeing disappointment freeze Ruby’s smile. “We’re going for a drink later, actually. Dinner, maybe, see how it goes.”

“Exciting stuff. Promise to come back and update us, won’t you?” Niall said, finally letting her off the hook, then pulling her straight back onto a different one. “So, a little bird tells us you love to crochet in your spare time. Tell us more about this mouse orchestra you’re making?”

Fresh panic snaked through Kate’s veins. Why the hell had the publishing team written that mouse orchestra into her bio? It was so weirdly specific. She half nodded and half shook her head; anyone with knowledge of body language would have a field day with her.

“Well, I’m trying,” she said, with a slow laugh. “My sister gotthe sewing gene to be honest, she runs a fancy-dress shop and makes all her own costumes. I can’t even thread a sewing machine. I just wanted something I could do with my brain and my hands to relax. There’s only so muchBridgertonone woman can watch, you know?”

She realized she was veering off message and tried to bring things back in line again.

“So yeah, I make little mice.” She showed them the size between her index finger and thumb. “With trumpets and violins and, er, tambourines.”

Niall didn’t look as if he believed a word she was saying. “These wehaveto see, Kate.”

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