A Man for All Seasons (4 page)

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.”

“W
HAT
? W
HY
?” M
ARLIE
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.

“Convince me. Get a tree.”

“Okay! I'll get a tree. Is pre-lit okay, or do you have rules about that, too?”

“Pre-lit?”
Ty looked as though she'd suggested serving one of Santa's reindeer for Christmas dinner. “You're talking about an artificial tree?”

“Well, yeah.”

He stared at her.

“My house, my tree,” she said. “Do not call my mother.”

“Okay. I won't call your mother. I'll call
my
mother. All I
have to say is that you're not yourself and I'm concerned about what will happen when I'm not here to check on you.”

Marlie's blood ran cold.

“And you know if your mom hears about it from my mom, it'll be ten times worse.”

“It would be a thousand times worse.” Marlie had visions of her parents canceling their cruise and arriving on her doorstep. “You win. I'll get a tree. A giant, needle-dropping, fire-hazard of a tree.”

Ty hadn't said anything about ornaments.

 

T
HE NEXT DAY,
M
ARLIE
received flowers from Axelle. Before noon. Which meant Ty must have gone straight from blackmailing Marlie over the Christmas tree to discussing her with his girlfriend.

Good times.

Marlie held the heavy, square glass vase and searched her office for an empty flat surface. Eventually, she had to clear off the top of a file cabinet and set the exotically chic arrangement there, where she could see it while looking up the names of the flowers on Google. They were bright, beautiful and out of the ordinary. Like Axelle.

Not a carnation, rose or daisy in the bunch. Like Marlie. If she hadn't gone to seed.

If anyone should have been sending flowers, it should have been Marlie, but now that Axelle had outclassed her, Marlie had no choice but to dig out her good stationery, ordered for her wedding thank-yous, and write a charming, lively note to Axelle.

Charming and lively did not come naturally to Marlie, so writing the note took some time. She was not helped by staring at her given name, Marlene, written across the top of the stationery. Her mother had insisted on it, just as she'd insisted that Marlene be on the wedding invitations. They'd
never looked quite right to Marlie, as though it was someone else marrying Eric. And look how that turned out.

She had to access the U.S. Post Office website to find out what a first-class stamp cost these days, and then walk down to the mailbox cluster at the end of the block and drop it in the slot.

No wonder people emailed everything.

 

W
HEN
T
YLER ARRIVED HOME
that evening, the bed was leaving. He felt a pang, because it was a stupendous bed, but it came with baggage and Ty didn't need baggage. To be honest, he was still a little freaked that he kept picturing Marlie when he thought of the bed. Adult Marlie was bad enough, but as he was mentally planning an evening with Axelle, the Marlie that had intruded was the eight-year-old Marlie. He couldn't help it. Even now, when he thought of Marlie, her sweaty little red-cheeked face came to mind. It was the ponytail. Marlie may have changed, but the messy, bushy lump hadn't. Ty just couldn't have sex in a bed he associated with an eight-year-old.

Marlie had moved fast. Four men were dismantling the frame and carrying pieces downstairs to a pickup truck. Ty stepped aside as two of them passed him carrying the screen that had been at the foot of the bed.

He consoled himself with the thought that he would have replaced the projection system with a flat screen anyway. Newer technology.

Marlie was in her office—no surprise. Except that she seemed remarkably sanguine about getting rid of a bed she'd kept as a shrine to a failed romance.

Ty leaned against the doorway. Marlie wore headphones and didn't see him at first. A bouquet of bright flowers partially obscured her from view. He waved a hand so the movement would attract her attention.

She saw him and removed the headphones as she raised her eyebrows. “What's up?”

She looked the same as always, maybe faintly curious, since it wasn't his habit to interrupt her when he came home. He seemed more affected by last night's discussion than she was.

“The bed.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I guess the carpenters wanted it.”

“Yeah. They couldn't get here fast enough. I don't think they've decided who gets to take it home, though.”

“Did you go shopping for a new one?”

“I haven't had time.” She indicated the arrangement of colorful exotic blooms that she'd set on a file cabinet. “Your girlfriend sent me flowers.”

Ty smiled. “She's great like that.” Axelle's impulsive generosity was one of the things that attracted him to her. It was also how she'd ended up in charge of the Midtown Business Mentors Charity Auction this Friday. And how he'd been corralled into helping. And how Marlie had ended up doing a website for them. It was difficult to say no to Axelle.

“I broke out my expensive wedding stationery and wrote her a thank-you note for the ‘day brightener.'” Marlie looked at him. “I wonder where she got the idea that I needed a ‘day brightener?'”

“You mind that I told her about your jerk of a fiancé?” he asked. “You've got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'm not ashamed, but it was almost three years ago,” Marlie said. “I'm more embarrassed about walking in on you last night and seeing Axelle half-naked.”

“You said your eyes were closed.”

“They were.
After
I saw you both.”

Ty drew a long breath. “
I
should have sent
her
flowers.”

“You're in luck,” Marlie said. “As it happens, I've got some right here.”

“I'm not going to take your flowers.”

“Why not? I feel I owe her.”

“She'd rather have you do a little extra on the auction website.”

“It would be cheaper to send her flowers.” Marlie nodded toward the computer screen. “They've had twice as many donations as Axelle anticipated. Each one means I have to put up a picture and a description and a link to the company or person who donated it,” she told him. “I'm setting the whole thing up so I can stream the auction and take online bids Friday night. It's taking a little more time than I'd estimated.”

Ty came over to look at the screen. “It's for a good ca—what the heck is that?”

“That,” Marlie said, “is why I don't mind the extra time.”

A shirtless man wearing suspenders and a fireman's hat grinned at him from the monitor. “What's he donating?”

“A date,” Marlie answered.

“Did he have to look like he was posing for a calendar?”

“Actually, he did. You're looking at Mr. May.” She smiled. “And I'm sure the lucky winner hopes he will.”

Ty raised his eyebrows.

Marlie typed a caption to the picture and then read it aloud. “Oh, yeah. I'd like to see the partridge in
his
pear tree.”

“Uh, Marlie?”

“Hmm?” The picture on the screen changed and another man appeared. This one was wearing more clothes, but his smile promised he wouldn't be wearing them long. Ty had a passing acquaintance with that smile and a guy shouldn't
ever
be photographed smiling that smile.

“And you can coo in my ear anytime.” Marlie typed “Two Turtle Doves.”

“What are you doing?”

“This is the 12 Men of Christmas Dating Extravaganza.”

“Is it legal?”

Marlie laughed. “Axelle found twelve men to agree to take the winners or winner on a date inspired by verses from ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas' song.” She typed as she spoke.

“Axelle didn't ask me,” Ty said, wondering how Axelle knew the men.

“Axelle doesn't want to share you,” Marlie told him.

“Or she doesn't think anyone would pay to go out with me.”

“More likely, she's afraid you'll embarrass the other guys by starting a bidding war.”