When an m/m writer falls in love

I fell in love last week.

Well, love or maybe lust or fascination or… something.

I was trying to be a good relative and going to visit an aunt and uncle. We were almost there when I realised I’d forgotten to take anything. “We need wine!” I cried.

“You always need wine,” The Hubby replied, deadpan. “A Pinot Grigio or a Shiraz this time?”

“I’m not an alchie,” I said.

“No, but you’re always a bit crotchety unless you know there’s a nice Pinot Grigio in the fridge.”

At that point I had to agree. Life is better when you know there’s a Pinot Grigio in the fridge. And a spare in the cupboard, waiting.

I contemplated the box in the shed. They were on special offer – 25% off if you bought 6. Who could resist? 

“So,” The Hubby brought me back to the present. “Pinot Grigio or Shriaz?”

“No, it’s not for me. It’s to take with us.”

“Really?” I could hear the disbelief in his voice. “You shouldn’t tell lies, it’s not healthy.”

How could I prove it wasn’t for me? “No, I want cake or flowers to take.”

“The cake would definitely be for you,” he said.

“I want flowers. Aunties like flowers.”

“Good idea. You can’t eat or drink them while we’re there, like you would with wine or cake.”

I hate him when he’s right.

“Stop, there’s a florist over there,” I said, pointing.

“Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear. Never mind the traffic or the fact that there’s nowhere to park, your wish is my command.” Did I mention how much he annoys me when he’s right?

Anyway, it was then that I fell in love or lust or obsession.

I picked a lovely bunch of purple flowers – dahlias, I think – and took them up to the counter, to pay.

“Do you want them wrapped?” asked… such a vision of gorgeousness that I could hardly breathe. All sensible thought left my head – yes, Hubby, I do have sensible thoughts. Occasionally – as I gazed in wonder at the most beautiful young boy/man I have seen in a very long time.

Messy black hair, long, long, long lashes, creamy skin, dark, glorious eyes, and a smile that…

I’ve heard the expression rendered breathless but I’ve never actually had it happen to me. Worse – and, according to The Hubby, rarer – I was also rendered speechless.

“Do you want the flowers wrapped?” My vision of loveliness asked again, with a soft pink flush on his perfect cheek.

I stared, mouth slightly open. “Erm… whatever you think best,” I managed.

He gave me an easy *perfect* smile before wrapping them and then held out his hand. I stared at his long shapely fingers and perfect palm for too long. Gorgeous boy/man shuffled a bit and then said, a little impatiently, “Do you want to pay cash or by card?”

I handed over the money whilst staring at the faultless curve of his ear and then, oh poor me, I had to leave. I contemplated buying something else just so I could stay but the thought of explaining it to The Hubby made me remember he’d parked blocking someone’s drive. It would be typical of my luck if they came home. So I had to leave my picture-perfect boy/man with one long last wistful look. He honoured me with another smile and then turned his attention to another customer. Lucky cow.

Back in the car I thought about the boy/man. In the distant past I might have imagined running off with him, the two of us holding hands on a moonlit beach in the Caribbean, while the surf broke melodically in the background. Now it’s quite different. Now I think about who I can pair him with in my next story. He’d be a perfect character and he’s definitely going in there!

I don’t need a beautiful boy/man, I have a gorgeous – and VERY understanding Hubby – but I always need exciting characters. I love being an m/m writer.