The Man of My Dreams

I peeked to my right, sneaking a sidelong glance at the handsome dark haired man sitting in the passenger seat of my station wagon.

Colin Firth!

Colin Firth, the amazing, intelligent, sensitive, smart, funny British actor, sitting in MY car! I’m actually escorting Colin Firth to my HOUSE! Bridget Jones, move over!

Smiling to myself, astonished, I looked forward as I pulled the car to a stop at the front of the house.

As we stepped out of the Volvo, I could hear barking. Colin looked at me across the roof of the car.

“I’ve always liked dogs! Bonus points for you because you clearly like them, too.”

We crossed the lawn and I opened the front door. My dogs poured out of the house, tails wagging, bouncing around, frisky and excited because I was home and because a new friend had arrived.

Squatting down, I hugged each of them. The Little Girl Dog licked me on the face, and then got a direct hit on my lips.

“Wow! Frenched by a dog!” I laughed.

Extending his hand, the movie star pulled me to my feet, and then drew me towards him.

His chocolate brown eyes twinkled and his mouth quirked up.

Cocking his head, he pulled me close. “And now, you’ll be kissed by a human.”

Slowly, I became aware of a voice droning in the background. ‘…wife Livia is well known for her efforts to create and promote sustainable high end fashions. Ms. Firth wore an upcycled gown made of …’ Groaning, I snaked my hand out and whacked the snooze button. Ah, for a few more precious moments with the man of my dreams….

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