A Different Kind of Forever(96)

In Down To Desire, he was the mysterious and charismatic Devlin Montry, Earl of Northumberland. In Wednesday’s Lover, he was Philip Waters, the conflicted agent of the mysterious and dangerous Lord Buckingham. In Passion’s Eve, he was Sir Jon Allenby, wrongly convicted of treason and on the run from the King’s vengeful agents. Whenever I’m writing, I spend a lot of time thinking about Ben, usually in various states of undress. To be truthful, I spend a lot of time thinking about Ben even when I’m not writing. Then it becomes really distracting because, doing what I do for as long as I’ve been doing it, I tend to think of him in a romantic and historic context.

Usually I get his machine, so I was pleasantly surprised when he answered his phone. Even his voice is delicious, very deep, with the hint of a southern drawl.

“Ben, it’s Mona, your favorite customer.”



He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. ‘You little fool,’ he said, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Don’t you know what you mean to me? Do you really think I’ve been keeping away from you because I want to?’ He pulled her close, his lips a breath away from her own. ‘Don’t you know that I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I’m alone with you?’



“Is it the downstairs toilet again?” Ben asked.

“No. The tub in the girls’ bathroom puked up some rust earlier.”

“Ah. Puking rust.” He chuckled. “There’s a lot of that going around. I can come by after lunch, if you’ll be home.”

“Yep. I’ll be here. See you later.”

I hung up the phone and was drinking my fourth cup of coffee, seriously thinking about getting some writing done, when Brian came through the kitchen door. Brian is an accountant. He’s actually head of a department full of lots of other accountants, so he doesn’t actually do much debiting or crediting himself, but he still modestly calls himself an accountant, despite the CPA, MBA, six-figure salary and big corner office. He has a modest, self-effacing way about him that I’ve always liked. He doesn’t look like an accountant anymore. He still wears a suit and tie to work, but they are very expensive, well-cut suits with sexy ties and splashy -colored shirts. He’s a handsome guy for 53. Tall, still slender, and not much gray because he’s got that sandy blond colored hair, you know the color, that hides the gray really well until one day you look and say, oh my God, you’re old. He hadn’t gotten there yet. Something to look forward to, now.

So I was sitting in my big, old-fashioned kitchen, glowing in the mixed warmth of sunshine and hot caffeine, talking to the cat. One of my pet peeves is that I will not allow my cat on my kitchen counter. Ever. I’m sure when I’m not around, she makes it a point to rumba her way from the sink to the fridge, but when I’m home, she sits on the bar stool next to me at the breakfast counter. She’s very good that way.

I love my cat. She is pale orange and white and very fluffy, with big blue eyes and a tiny pink tongue. Her name is Lana. She is my favorite living being in the house, because although she pees and poops an incredible amount for such a small animal, she does it very neatly in a contained space, and sometimes spends as much as twelve minutes at a time sitting in my lap, purring in complete adoration. Well, maybe not adoration. Or, at least, not adoration of me. But she listens carefully to every word I say and never talks back. That alone elevates her to sainthood in my book.

But – back to Brian. He came through the door. I was a little surprised. It was not an unheard-of occurrence, but mid-morning returns home were few and far between.“Hey, hot stuff, back so soon?” I was smiling. I really loved my husband.

He shrugged. “Well, I left this morning just as the girls were screaming about a geyser in the bathroom, so I thought I might check it out. Still gushing?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Besides, I called Ben.”

Brian had taken off his jacket and was leaning back against the counter. “Good. I like Ben. Nice guy. He coming by today?”

“After lunch.”

Brian made a face. “He’ll probably charge extra for the rush job. But he’s still a nice guy. He’s got kids, right?”

“Boys. His oldest starts Yale next fall.”

Brian threw back his head and laughed. “I bet when he got off the phone with you, he called his kid right away and told him to go ahead and sign up for the next semester.”

I laughed with him. “Probably.”