A Man for All Seasons

Men always stuck together in the end. “I’m not moping. I’m working.”

“Then you’re moping while you work.” He eyed her before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “This is a great bed.” He leaned on his hands as he scanned the interior. “Too bad you have to get rid of it.”

3

“WHAT? WHY?” MARLIE asked.

Ty’s jaw hardened. “Because every time you come in here, you see it and think of your ex and what he did.”

And Marlie knew he was right.

“You don’t enjoy this bed. You hardly spend any time in here. Half the nights you fall asleep on the loveseat in your office.”

He knew? He would have had to come downstairs specifically to check on her. While she was sleeping. Her breath hitched. “I work late.”

“Because you’re avoiding the bed. You never would have chosen this bed for yourself and it will always remind you of a wedding that didn’t happen. Stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault and ditch the bed.”

“I can’t afford to.”

“Sell it,” Ty said, and Marlie knew he wasn’t going to let up until she agreed. “You know you could in about thirty seconds. Sell it to me. I’ll give you whatever it cost you. There. Done. Problem solved.” He looked pleased with himself.

Except… “It won’t fit in your room.”

“It’ll fit in my new house.”

“Which isn’t finished,” she reminded him.

“It’s getting there,” he said. “I meant to tell you, the city inspectors signed off on the new street plans and the council approved them this week. I drove by and crews are already replacing sewer pipes and widening the roads. The builder says once that’s finished, it’ll only be six weeks until I can move in.”

Sooner than she’d thought. But the road wasn’t finished yet. Besides, it was December and construction always slowed down in December. “So until then, your plan is to leave the bed here?”

Ty stared longingly at the screen behind Marlie. “I’ll put it in storage.”

That could work, but Marlie didn’t know if she was ready to handle the thought of Axelle and Ty having sex in her wedding present to Eric. “Actually, the carpenters have dibs if I sell it.”

“There’s no ‘if.’ You’re going to sell it.”

Ty was right. Somebody should have sex in her wedding present to Eric. “I’ll check to see if they’re still interested.”

“Do it.” Ty exhaled heavily. “But I wish you’d told me before I bonded with the bed. I had great things planned for this bed.”

“So did I.”

They sat in silence. Marlie thought about how long it had been since she’d had great things, and then she thought about Ty and his plans for the bed. He was probably great at things, and she already knew the bed was great, so naturally she wondered about great things with Ty in the bed, but Eric kept creeping into her thoughts. Marlie realized it would be impossible for her to have great things in this bed. Ever.

“I’m calling the carpenters tomorrow,” she said at the same time Ty said, “I can’t buy your bed.”

“I thought you wanted it,” she said.

He looked at her accusingly. “I know the story. That means every time I’m in this bed, I’ll think of you. It would be distracting at certain crucial times.”

“Sorry.” But she really wasn’t.

He exhaled. “If the carpenters want it, tell them to haul it off right away. As soon as the check clears, go bed shopping. You need a bed that’s you.” He ran his hand over the frame. “This was never you.”

How did he know that? “What kind of bed do you think is me?”

“Unbleached cotton, a thick comforter, squashy pillows,” he said immediately. “Beach colors. No patterns because you want to rest your eyes. Maybe a four poster, but nothing heavy. You need a bedside table with a soft light and a CD player where you can play New Age relaxation music.”

Marlie had expected him to say something like “blue” or “traditional.”

He was on a roll. “Get a good mattress that will support your back so it won’t get sore from sitting all day. No computer outlets. Maybe a TV across the room, but I’d say no. You need an electronic-free zone.”

“Okay,” Marlie said, dazzled with the details and amazed that he’d described her perfect bedroom before she even knew it was her perfect bedroom. Except for the New Age music.

He stood and looked around. “If you want to paint in here, I’ll help.”

“Okay,” she said again. He was being awfully nice. She tried not to be suspicious.

“It’s late.” He flexed his shoulders, drawing his shirt across his chest and she thought, his chest is nice, too. “Get some sleep.”

It will be a while, Marlie thought as she stood. “Thanks. And, again, I’m sorry about ruining your dinner.”

He looked down at her. “Want to make it up to me?”

“Yes,” she said before finding out what he had in mind.

“Get a Christmas tree.”

That was not what she hoped he had in mind. But he wouldn’t think that way about her. She wasn’t his type. And as soon as she tightened up her current date requirements to being beyond male and breathing, she’d remember he wasn’t her type, either.

“A tree is easy enough.” Marlie thought of the little pre-decorated table top trees. She could order one online.

“‘Easy’ means you’re thinking of some wimpy thing. I’m talking about a big tree for the front window.”

“Oh, come on.”

He headed for the door. “Those are my terms.” His terms? “Or what?”

He stopped at the doorway and grinned evilly. “Or I will call your mother and tell her I’m worried about you.” Marlie gasped.

“I’ll tell her all you do is work and the stress is getting to you.”

“Oh, that’s low, Ty.”

“And I’ll say that I suspect you’ve never gotten over your broken engagement and you’re depressed—which might be true.”

“It’s not true,” Marlie insisted.