What the … The last thing I expected to see in my writing office was my Muse sitting in one of the corner recliners with my laptop. Of course, to see him dressed the way he was … oh boy.
The red and white striped sweatpants, like a wearable candy cane, would have been eye-searing enough without that sweater. Think bright green, with tinsel garland and strands of tiny blinking lights sown across it in tiers, complete with miniature glass ball ornaments.
Oh. My. Gawd. He looks like a Christmas tree sat on an elf. The only things missing are curly-toed slippers and a Santa hat. I’m not sure whether to laugh or … yeah, gotta laugh. I manage to choke back a guffaw. “Um, where the hell did you find that outfit?”
He looks up at me, his angular cheekbones, blue eyes, and the little divot in his chin contrasting with that get-up. “I’m getting into the spirit of the season.” He flashes his crooked grin, the one that always raises the temperature in the room.
Even now, with that ridiculous outfit, it’s getting warm in here. I shove the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt to my elbows. “It’s hideous.”
He raises an eyebrow. Pretty sure I’m having a hot flash. Yeah, I’ll call it that.
“Really? I thought you’d like the lights.”
“Um, yeah, I do,” I admit. “What are you doing?”
“What you should be doing, love.”
I can’t believe he’s writing a blog post without me asking, begging, or bartering with him. “I came in here to write my post.”
“Way ahead of you, love.”
“Ah, o-kay. Why? You always grumble when I ask you to write posts for me.”
“What’s wrong with me writing posts when I want to? I thought you would be happy you didn’t have to beg.”
Well, sure, but it’s kinda like when kids do stuff without you badgering them to do it. “What do you want?”
His eyes widen. He puts on what I would call his innocent face. “I never said I wanted anything, love.”
I open the back door and stand in the breeze from the snow-covered yard to cool down. “Riiight. Just tell me now so I can grumble about it.”
He sets the computer aside and levers out of the recliner. “You’re letting the cold air in.”
“It’s hot in here.”
He reaches over my head and pushes the door closed. “It’s not.”
I stare into twinkling Christmas lights before taking a step back. Into the door. “So, let me get this straight. You are writing my blog post without my asking because why? You’re feeling generous?”
“That, and it seems people like when I write posts.”
Actually, I think it’s just him. He usually has some sort of writing wisdom to share. The fact that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes has nothing to do with it.
Nope, that has absolutely nothing to do with it.
“I think I’m going to stand outside for a few minutes.” I turn to open the door again.
“I’m almost finished. Then it’s your turn, love. You only have a few more chapters left for the Book 2 draft. Then you can dig into that other project you keep thinking about.”
“See, I knew you wanted something.”
This will be my (and my Muse’s) last post until after the New Year (except for the standard Merry Christmas/Happy New Year posts 😀 ). Enjoy your holidays with friends and family. Safe travels to all.