Page 84 of The Ghost of Ellwood
“Why? I thought you loved this tale.”
“I do. I’m just doubting it now.”
“Would you like me to read it?” he asked, leaning on my desk and crossing his arms. I stared at his rounded bicep. “My eyes are up here, Ben.”
“Huh?” I looked at him. “Oh. Um. I kinda don’t like anyone to read it until I’m done.”
“All right. I’ll read it whenever you’re ready for me to. Please don’t forget you’re an amazing writer. You wouldn’t have films and television shows of your stories if they didn’t deserve it. I believe in you.”
Damn him for getting me choked up.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Theo began walking away and I grabbed his arm. He turned with a half-smile. “Ben.”
“You can’t walk away without kissing me first. It’s like paying the toll to the troll under the bridge.”
“And you’re the troll?”
“Yup.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“I know.” I tilted my head as he came over and kissed me.
His presence had helped me, though. Once he left the room, an idea sparked for the next chapter and I began to write. Three hours passed before I looked up again. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the clouds.
“Ben?” Theo called from down the hall. “Someone’s here.”
I saved my work before leaving my office and going down the corridor that led to the parlor. The manor was kind of a maze with all the twists and turns, but I had memorized every inch of the place by now.
Theo’s gaze was fixated on something outside. I joined him at the window and smiled when I saw the delivery truck.
“You can’t look until I say you can,” I said, looping an arm around him. “I might’ve gotten you a little something yesterday while we were in town.”
His brows lifted. “A gift for me?”
“Yep.” I swatted him on the ass. “Now go into the living room like a good boy and wait for me.”
Instead, he disappeared. There one second and gone the next.
“Theo.”
“Ben,” he whispered in my ear.
I jumped. I could hear him but not see him. “No peeking, Theodore Blackwell. I mean it!”
He chuckled from close by before I heard the creaking of the floorboards as he walked away.
Steps sounded on the porch before the doorbell rang. I opened the door to see two men on the other side.
“Mr. Cross?” one asked. “We have a delivery for you fromLizzie’s Antiques.”
“That’s me.”
I signed the delivery form, and then they carried in the chair. I told them to place it in the office beside the chair Theo normally sat in to read. I thanked them—and gave them a generous tip—before closing the door.
“You can come out now.”
