Build a Man by Talli Roland Read Free Book Online

Finally, a night when I
can watch whatever TV channel I want without having to feign
interest in some obscure History Channel documentary.
    “Serenity?”
Peter sits up on the sofa, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and I
jump. I didn’t even see him there.
    “Hi! How was
the dinner?” I walk over to him, surreptitiously tugging down my
pyjama bottoms.
    Peter shakes
his head. “Bloody BlackBerry. I got all the way down there, and
then I remembered they’d postponed it this month. I’m sure I keyed
it in but it didn’t come up as rescheduled.”
    He looks so
disturbed that I snuggle up to him and rub his back. It’s rare he
does something like this; he’s so meticulously organised he even
has my periods scheduled in his BlackBerry. And I know how much he
looks forward to these dinners. He works hard, and he’s so tired
that he rarely goes out.
    “Cup of tea?” I
ask, hoping that might make him feel better. Tea seems to be a
cure-all this side of the Atlantic.
    Peter smiles
and squeezes my leg. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
    He lumbers into
the bedroom, and I head to the kitchen and switch on the electric
kettle. I put the teabag in the mug, flat against the bottom, then
pour the water so it strikes the centre of the bag. After counting
to twenty, I remove the bag and splash in a teaspoon of milk. It’s
Peter’s tried and true tea method, perfected over years of practice
to result in the ideal cup. And I have to say, it usually does –
for him. I like my tea all milky and weak, more along the lines of
tea-flavoured water. Peter always jokes Americans never appreciate
good tea: just look what they did at the Boston Tea Party.
    “Here you go.”
I hand him the steaming mug after he emerges from the bedroom, all
tucked into his robe. He sits back down on the sofa and sips his
drink, and I cuddle in next to him.
    “Feeling
better?” I ask, soaking in the heat from his body.
    “Yes, thanks.”
Peter takes another sip, then makes a face. “Serenity, did you keep
the teabag in for twenty seconds, like I showed you? This is way
too weak.” Sighing, he strides into the kitchen and I hear the
sound of liquid pouring down the drain, then the rattle of a spoon
against a mug as he makes a new cup. Oh, for God’s sake. I did keep the stupid teabag in for twenty seconds.
    He’s probably
annoyed about tonight, I tell myself, forcing a smile onto my face
as he comes back into the lounge. I know he doesn’t mean to be
ungrateful for my tea attempt; he’s just a perfectionist.
    As Peter drinks
in silence, I lean against his shoulder and nestle into him even
more. Ah, this is nice. The two of us together, the two of us–
    With Tony
Robinson? I lift my head as Peter cranks up the volume on a rerun
of Time Team . Gosh, we’re on a romantic roll tonight. I
might as well cram a Jaffa into my mouth and blow crumbs. I move
away, tugging down the inseam again as Smitty takes my place on
Peter’s lap.
    Still, romance
is over-rated, right? What matters is that you and your partner are
working toward the same goals; that you complement each other’s
‘life path’, as my mother would say. And right now, I can’t imagine
a couple more on track than Peter and me. Even though he doesn’t
know my big news, I feel like we’re partners; that he and the
clinic are helping me reach my dream.
    All I need now
is to get Jeremy on-board, and I’ll start my way down the Yellow
Brick Road.
    I can – I will – make this happen.

CHAPTER
FIVE
     
     
    “Morning.”
    I lift my head
to see Peter beside me on the sofa. He’s already dressed and by the
light streaming through the window, I can tell it’s well past my
usual rising time. Sitting up, I try to remember why I’m in the
lounge – I must have fallen asleep here. I stayed up until late,
trying to figure out something extra to entice Jeremy, along with a
back-up plan in case he says no. I even ventured onto Peter’s
state-of-the-art laptop to Google ‘life coaching’ for some