A Short That Needs a TitleMore Morgan story coming soon...but for now!! Here's the beginning. If you want to read the full story, go to The Coffeyhouse Blog. by J. W. Coffey  I watched him get ready, dressing in the charcoal sweater and jeans. That had always been my favorite look for him. The denim hugged the curve of his buttocks, the sweater smooth against his chest. His body was the stuff of fairy tales, the well-muscled physique was enough to make any maiden drool and sigh. When I’d first met him, I’d certainly done my share. My husband of twenty years had just passed away and I was alone for the first time in my life—burdened with the wealth and position that he’d left behind in two international companies and plenty of real estate and stocks.
Portia was still my best friend at that point. “Get back in the saddle,” she’d advised. “Don’t stay home alone; don’t cry yourself to sleep. It will give you bags and wrinkles.” She’d sipped her martini from a Baccarat crystal glass in her wizened hand and told me, “You need a young lover; someone you won’t get too emotionally attached to. Someone you can drop when the mood strikes. My dear, no self-respecting widow stays attached; not when there’s a veritable smorgasbord of men out there.” He caught me staring as he turned around to find his shoes. The curly, blond hair was tousled in a fetching way, complimenting his beautiful cheekbones. He smiled at me but there was something in his eyes. “I don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, hopefully. I’m better off, I told myself. No involvements, no tying myself down. It has to be this way. I’m doing him a favor. I put down the coffee cup and crossed the room to stand in front of him. I reached up to straighten the knot of his tie. “Yes, you do. We agreed.” “Oh,” he answered, looking just a bit crestfallen. “I was hoping. . . .” “That I’d changed my mind?” “Yeah.” “I won’t. You have to go now, Logan.” “I still don’t understand why.” It was the right thing. It had to be. “I know. But you will in time. I’ve kept you here too long as it is.” “You’re wrong about that.” I looked up into hazel eyes, still earnest and almost innocent. “About what?” “That you kept me here. You’re wrong about that.” “I am?” He nodded. I ran my fingers through the curls; the mousse had stiffened them somewhat but they were still pliable to the touch. After three years together, I’d never tired of the feel or the look of his hair. “Well, I’ve been wrong before. . .but not about this.” I changed the subject before it could go into dangerous territory. I had to get him back on track. “You all packed?” He smiled at me and nodded. “I’m going to miss you, Alex.” “You’ll be fine, sweety. You’ll go find the life I took away from you. You’ll find some nice young girl who will give you a family and you’ll join your father’s law firm like you planned. You’ll be just fine.” He took my hand, sweetly kissing the palm. “Maybe. But it won’t be the same.” “Come on,” I told him, gently nudging him into the chair to put on his shoes. “I have a board meeting and a great many things to get done today.” “Alex?” “Yes, Logan?” “Will you miss me? At all? I mean. . .a little maybe?” To be Continued at The Coffeyhouse!! | 
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