CassandraGold-_-Special Delivery

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact kmfrontain@gmail.com.

Editor: Tess MacKall

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passages for review purposes.

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events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created
from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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DEDICATION PAGE

To Tess, for putting up with me, and my pet words.

And to Beth, who’s still the best CP ever!

Chapter One

“Ms. Berkowitz? Your ten o’clock is here.”

“Send him in, Mark.”

Releasing the intercom button, Mark Hanson motioned the man standing in front of him
toward Ms. Berkowitz’s office. Once again, he was alone in the outer office. With a sigh,
he opened the word processing program on the computer and began to type out the day’s
correspondence—memos, letters, and whatever else Ms. Berkowitz needed. She was a
terrible typist and often waxed poetic about how lucky she was to have him for a secretary.

Despite the initial shock of the other secretaries, all women, and his father’s disapproval at
him doing “woman’s work”, Mark enjoyed his job. Being the personal secretary to one of
the partners at the prestigious Richardson, Daley, Berkowitz, and Crane law firm meant
interesting work and good pay. Unfortunately, it also meant long hours as Elizabeth
Berkowitz hadn’t made partner by being lazy. As a result, Mark’s social life had taken a
major hit.

Of course, his own shyness played into his current single state. At work he dealt well with
people because he had to. However, any time he tried to interact with people socially, he
ended up nervous and tongue-tied. He fared much better with women. They seemed to find
his shyness rather cute. Men, on the other hand, tended to act like he didn’t exist. That
wouldn’t be a problem if he were straight.

But he wasn’t.

He’d made a good bit of headway into transcribing the pile of papers in front of him when a
shadow fell across the desk, and he looked up, straight at a broad chest clad in a brown
uniform shirt. The name tag read Tim Callahan. Moving his gaze up again, he froze, struck
dumb by the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. The face around those baby blues wasn’t bad
either—a wide smile with even, white teeth, a strong jaw, and a straight nose. A small scar
through one eyebrow and tiny lines around his eyes made the whole face more
approachable somehow. Mark couldn’t see his hair color because of his uniform cap, but
judging from his eyebrows, he guessed brunet. All in all, a gorgeous package.

Realizing he stared, he searched for the appropriate words. “C-can I…help you?” Oh,
smooth.

Tim Callahan didn’t appear fazed by his stammered greeting. Still smiling, he placed a box
and two large envelopes onto Mark’s desk. “I’m the new delivery guy for the building. I’ll
need you to sign for these.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I can do that.” He took the electronic clipboard Tim held out and signed at
the X.

“Thanks.” Tim paused, looked at the nameplate on the desk. “Mr. Taylor.”

Mark smiled and nodded, not ready to try talking again.

With a grin, Tim left the office.

* * * *

Lunchtime arrived, and Mark joined the other secretaries in the break room. The whole
place buzzed with conversation. By the time he’d retrieved his leftover Chinese food from
the fridge, heated it, and sat at the table with the others, he’d discovered what, or rather
who, had caused such a stir.

“Did the new delivery guy come up to Ms. B.’s office, Mark?” Jenny Trask, his best friend
in the building, pounced as soon as he sat.

“Yeah, he did.”

All of a sudden, every gaze had settled on him. Several of the women looked envious,
while others nodded as if to say they had seen him too. Rita Kelly, who had worked for the
firm for thirty years and had eight grandchildren, batted her lashes like a teenager. “My
goodness, he’s a cutie, isn’t he? If I were twenty years younger….”

Everyone laughed.

Tonya rubbed her chin as if thinking. “Seven and a half,” she proclaimed.

Rita snorted. “What? He’s at least a nine.”

Nine? He’s a ten. Although he’d outed himself to the girls and none of them had a problem
with his sexuality, Mark kept his mouth shut. If he said anything, they would tease him
unmercifully. Some of them might even try to set him up with the new delivery man, which
he didn’t need. He could humiliate himself perfectly well on his own, thank you very much.

* * * *

Two days later, Mark sat at his desk eating a late breakfast of miniature powdered donuts
and tried to cope with the mountain of work in his inbox. The sound of a throat clearing
drew his attention. Tim the delivery guy stood in front of his desk, smiling, packages in
hand. He looked even better than he had the last time.

Mark realized he still held one of the little donuts halfway to his mouth and dropped it.
Powdered sugar scattered over his desk and the front of his shirt. Little specks dotted his
tie.

Shoot me now. Cheeks hot, sure he blushed, Mark managed, “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t paying
attention.”

“I noticed.” Tim set the packages on the corner of the desk and held out the clipboard. “I
need a signature.”

Mark wasted no time taking the clipboard and scrawling his name, more than ready to have
this embarrassing situation end. “There you go.”

Tim squinted at his signature for a moment. “Mark?”

He nodded.

“Well, thanks, Mark. Have a great day. Oh, and you’ve got powdered sugar on your lip.”

The second Tim left, Mark licked his lower lip, finding the large smear of powdered sugar
easily. Where’s a huge hole to open up and swallow me when I need one? I won’t mind a
bit.

Wouldn’t the rest of the secretaries love to hear about this?

He skipped lunch.

* * * *

“At least he looked at your lips.” Jenny gave him an encouraging smile over the rim of her
coffee mug. They had both arrived early, and it hadn’t taken much for her to get him to spill
the tale of yesterday’s mortifying experience.

“Of course he was, Jen. I probably had enough sugar on my lip for it to be visible from the
space shuttle.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. At any rate, I doubt Tim will hold your messy
eating habits against you. He seems really nice.”

Sometimes he envied his pretty, self-assured friend. She would have found a way to turn an
embarrassing situation into an opportunity. Too bad he couldn’t do the same. Giving her a
shrug, he made a show of catching sight of his watch. “Oh, look at the time. I’d better get
going. Ms. B. has a ton of appointments today.”

With a quick wave, he headed up the stairs to Ms. Berkowitz’s office. The phone rang
before he could sit down, and the day got crazy from there. A couple of hours later, his
nerves had reached the breaking point, and the urge to scream perched right on the tip of his
tongue. His inner neat freak hated the sight of his desk covered with the flurry of papers
he’d had to reference for various phone calls and emails. Buried somewhere under the
mess, the day’s transcription folder lay untouched due to all the other things he’d had to do.

His head throbbed with the onset of a monster headache, but he managed to convince the
impatient client on the phone that Ms. Berkowitz couldn’t possibly see him until next week.
Then he hung up with a sigh of relief.

“Rough day?”

The sound of Tim’s low, sexy voice didn’t surprise him one bit. Since he felt— and
probably looked—horrible, Tim’s arrival seemed fated. This is so not my day.

Trying to smile, he raised his gaze to meet the delivery man’s. “I’ve had better.”

Tim leaned against the edge of Mark’s desk, his expression sympathetic. “I’ve been there.
Don’t worry, it usually gets better.”

Too tired to worry about what he said or how he looked, he blurted out the first thing that
came to mind. “Usually. But sometimes it gets worse.”

“Way to look on the bright side, Mark.” Though Tim’s words could have been construed as
a rebuke, his tone was commiserating instead.

Mark shrugged. “Come back another day if you want, Mr. Sunshine. Today I’m Mr. On the
Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.”

Tim rewarded his sarcasm with a deep, rich laugh. “I’ll let you sign for these and get out of
your hair, then.”

He knew what to do. As he handed the clipboard back, the phone rang. He sighed. “Thanks,
Tim.”

Tim gave him a jaunty little salute and left.

After a blessedly short telephone conversation, Mark glanced over at the boxes on the
corner of his desk. A little package of miniature powdered donuts sat atop the bundle.

The day was looking up after all.

* * * *

It wasn’t until the next day at lunch that he was able to talk to Jenny. They were the first
two secretaries to get to the break room. Dying to tell someone about what had happened
the day before, he told her about the donuts. He related the story as quickly as possible, not
wanting any of the other women to overhear.

She squealed with delight. Before she could say anything, however, Rita and Tonya walked
in. Several others arrived, and any chance they had to discuss the donuts vanished. In a way

he was glad they couldn’t talk freely anymore. Jenny would undoubtedly read too much
into Tim’s simple gesture and start thinking up ways to get them together.

Lost in his thoughts, Mark didn’t pay much attention to the conversation around him—until
he heard Tim’s name. Suddenly interested, he focused in on what the women discussed.

Lisa, the office flirt, held a five-dollar bill in her hand. “Five bucks says Tim asks me out
first.”

Laughter greeted her statement. Rita rubbed her chin. “Confident, huh?”

Lisa smirked, gesturing to indicate her large breasts and slim figure. “I have reason to be.”

Hiding his grimace behind his drink, Mark held his tongue.

Another five appeared on the table. Tonya gave Lisa a challenging look. “I’m in, but I’m
betting on Jenny.”

Several others chimed in, betting on Jenny or Lisa. Rita bet Tim would just keep flirting
with everyone, but not ask anyone out. Neither Jenny or Mark spoke. After a few minutes,
Rita, who was the keeper of all office wagers by dint of seniority, gathered the money and
wrote everyone’s predictions in a small notebook. The conversation seemed to end, and
Mark mentally heaved a sigh of relief. Hearing everyone discussing Tim’s flirting had
assured him that the donuts had been a simple act of kindness and nothing more.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jenny place a five-dollar bill on the table. No, no,
no. Panicking, he jerked his gaze up to meet hers. Although he knew it wouldn’t do any
good, he shook his head at her frantically.

She winked at him. Slowly, the other secretaries fell silent as they noticed Jenny’s money
and her knowing smile.

Lisa spoke first. “Joining the fray? I guess you’ll bet on yourself.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to bet on myself. I do think Tim will ask someone here out, though.”
Dramatic as always, she paused.

The ever-impatient Tonya leaned forward in her seat. “Who?”

Jenny’s smile widened. “Mark.”

Every eye in the room swiveled to stare at him. Mark dropped his face into his hands.

* * * *

“I’m not speaking to you.” Despite having the whole weekend to get over Jenny’s
lunchroom stunt, Mark’s irritation hadn’t cooled. The way the other secretaries had stared
at him really bothered him. He’d fled the room at about the time Lisa began to argue that
Tim couldn’t be gay because of the way he always flirted with her. The whole scene had
left a bad taste in his mouth, especially when he thought about Tim flirting with Lisa.

Jenny hurried along behind him as they entered the building, using her most penitent voice.
“Come on, Mark. I couldn’t let everyone rule you out. He gave you donuts!”

He stopped and turned. Right on his heels, Jenny almost crashed into him. “Look, Jen, I
realize you didn’t do it to be mean, but you really embarrassed me. You know how much I
hate being the center of attention like that.”

She reached up and patted his cheek, her expression sympathetic. “Honey, you need to start
putting yourself out there more, be more outgoing. How are you ever going to catch a guy
if you’re not even totally comfortable with us?”

Although she made sense, her words felt like a low blow. He sighed. “You’re right. I try,
but it’s so hard. I freeze up.”

“I know. Lisa knows too, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her forget you’re just as
hot as she is.”

Hot? Me? Yeah, right. Still, he had to grin. Lisa’s conceited nature got on his nerves
sometimes. “She really freaked out, didn’t she?”

“Oh yeah. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Tim might not be into her.” Jenny’s evil grin
mirrored his.

* * * *

A few hours later, he wasn’t grinning anymore. Ms. Berkowitz had sent him down to the
office of Lisa’s boss to pick up some papers. Lisa had oozed condescension—full of fake
sympathy over his “cute little crush” on the delivery guy. He’d wanted to pull out all his
hair before he finally got away from her. He tried his best not to let her get him down, but
his lack of self-confidence wouldn’t allow it. It didn’t help that some of the things she’d
said hit dead-on. Everyone in the office knew about his shy awkwardness and perpetually
single state, even if most of them had the good grace not to say so. After talking to Lisa, he
couldn’t help believing she’d have Tim asking her out within the week. Confident and
uninhibited, Lisa embodied the polar opposite of Mark.

Not for the first time, he wished for the confident, sexy attitude of one of the models in
those clothing ads he saw in magazines. He might as well wish to be blond as well. Didn’t
they say blonds had more fun? Heaving a heavy sigh, he ran his fingers through his
reddish-brown hair and wondered if dyeing it would help. Or maybe he should grow his
current short style out a little. He rested his chin on his hand for a moment, imagining a life

in which he had confidence, sex appeal, and no trouble talking to guys. Lisa’s comments
wouldn’t have any effect on him then. If only….

“Deep thoughts?”

Mark jumped; any and all thoughts flew from his head at the sight of Tim standing in front
of his desk. How had he not seen the man coming? Broad shouldered and at least six-feet
tall, Tim didn’t exactly blend in with the scenery. Finally he realized he sat there staring
like an idiot, so he mumbled, “N-no, not really.”

Smiling as always, Tim handed him a large envelope. “This is all I have for you today.”

Dazzled by the deliveryman’s gorgeous smile, he accepted the envelope. Words fell out of
his mouth of their own accord. “Oh, um, that’s good. You didn’t have to carry too much.
Not that I think you can’t carry heavy packages, because I’m sure you can….” Oh, God, I
sound like a complete moron! His face heated. Why couldn’t he ever act like a normal
person when Tim showed up?

Tim’s grin widened. “Why thank you, I think.” He held out the clipboard.

Shoot. Me. Now. Mark practically snatched the clipboard out of the other man’s hand,
scratching out his signature as fast as possible. As he kept his head down to avoid eye
contact, he handed the clipboard back. He just wanted to end this humiliating encounter so
he could nurse his shattered pride in peace.

“Thanks, Mark. You have a good day.”

Tim retrieved the clipboard from him, and their fingertips brushed. Mark barely contained
the shiver of reaction that chased up his spine just from the tiny touch. Tim seemed
unaffected. Of course. Story of his life.

Chapter Two

The next couple of days passed in a whirl of paperwork and constant appointments. Tim
didn’t come in either day. Despite the incredibly stupid way he acted every time the
delivery man showed up, Mark missed seeing him. Tim’s smile and kind words always
cheered him up, no matter how glum he felt. After two days of listening to Lisa at lunch, he
really needed some cheering up too.

At the end of the day on Wednesday, Jenny gave him some more of her patented,
unsolicited advice. “Wear something nice tomorrow. Sexy clothes always make me feel
more confident.”

Taking her advice turned out to be surprisingly difficult. He didn’t really believe anything
could make him look sexy, not with his slim build, boring brown eyes, and blah-rusty
brown hair. Even so, he tried, putting on one of his favorite suits and a crisp green shirt. His
indecision almost made him late, and he was still knotting his tie as he entered the building
on Thursday morning.

Hovering by the door waiting for him, Jenny popped out like a jack-in-the-box. With a
quick once-over on the way to the elevator, she smiled and nodded. “You look good.”

“Yeah, okay.” She sighed and straightened his tie. “No, really. Green looks nice on you.
Blue too.” Although he wasn’t convinced that he looked good, he didn’t feel like arguing.
“Thanks.” “We need to devise some kind of mantra for you. You know, ‘I’m good enough,
I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.’” He burst out laughing. “Isn’t that just a
line from an old Saturday Night Live

skit?”

She grinned. “Yep. It’s true, though.”

Mark rolled his eyes.

* * * *

“Nice shirt.”

Engrossed in the file he held in his hand, Mark looked up, surprised to see Tim. Somehow
he’d managed to sneak up on him again. It took him a moment to process what the man had
said. As soon as the compliment sank in, his cheeks flamed red hot. “Really? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” After placing several packages on the corner of the desk, he held out
the clipboard.

Mark focused on the deliveryman’s strong hand and long, tapered fingers, wishing he had
the courage to brush his fingers against Tim’s. Of course, he did nothing of the sort. Too

tongue-tied and nervous to make small talk, as usual, he signed his name and surrendered
the clipboard. Rather than leaving, however, Tim leaned against the edge of the desk.

Curiosity forced Mark to find his voice. “Um, did you need something else?”

Tim looked around theatrically before lowering his voice. “My next stop is the office with
the blonde secretary. I’m a little scared of her to be honest.”

Tim’s comment was so far from what he expected; Mark couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“You’re right, Lisa is a little scary. Until you get to know her, then she’s a lot scary.”

Tim laughed too, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. “I’m glad I’m not the only
one. Thanks for making me feel better.”

Now that the shock of hearing Tim’s opinion of Lisa had dissipated, Mark’s shyness
returned abruptly. He managed a smile. “No problem.”

For the rest of the day, Mark lived on cloud nine. The compliment and pitiful conversation
may not have seemed much to anyone else, but to him any step forward prompted a
celebration.

* * * *

On Friday, Mark wore his favorite blue shirt and his lucky tie, hoping Jenny’s advice about
clothes giving confidence might prove right. He even spent extra time on his hair. By the
time he got to work, he did indeed feel more positive.

The new attitude lasted until he headed to the break room for a cup of coffee.

“I’m sure I’ve got him now.”

Mark froze near the doorway at the sound of Lisa’s voice, not up to a conversation with her
this early.

Another voice, Tonya, joined the first. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m going to win the bet today. You wouldn’t believe how he flirted with me
yesterday.” Lisa’s smug tone rang loud and clear even from where Mark stood.

“What about Mark?” Tonya asked.

“Mark? Give me a break. First of all, Tim’s not gay. I would know if he was. And
secondly, Mark is so mousy and timid. As if a fun, sexy man like Tim would want a guy
like that.”

Mark flinched at Lisa’s tone. He couldn’t see her, but he could definitely detect her scorn
for him. Any desire Mark had for a cup of coffee evaporated. He turned and hurried to his
office, determined not to let Lisa and Tonya know he’d heard their discussion.

Once at his desk, he thought about what Lisa had said. “Mousy and timid” she’d called
him. He was mousy and timid, and he always had been. He’d fooled himself into thinking
nice clothes would help him change.

He needed to stick with things he actually could do, like work and being a good friend.
What had possessed him to imagine a guy like Tim would ever give him a second glance—
a guy who probably wasn’t gay and wouldn’t like him even if he was? Tim’s words
yesterday had implied he wasn’t too keen on Lisa, but he’d taken it a step further and
thought that meant the man might ask him out instead.

Depressed, Mark threw himself into work. In one morning he completed a whole day’s
worth of mindless tasks. Unfortunately, Ms. Berkowitz’s pleased expression when he
turned in two reports and a letter early didn’t fill him with the sense of satisfaction and
accomplishment he normally derived from her unspoken pat on the back.

At least Mark managed not to let Tim’s arrival catch him unawares this time. For once he
spotted the man the moment he entered the office. Pasting on a fake smile, he watched Tim
approach. Despite his wake-up call earlier, he couldn’t help admiring the deliveryman’s
strong, yet graceful physique.

Why couldn’t he be a jerk, so I wouldn’t like him so much?

Grinning, Tim placed the large envelope he’d brought in the usual spot on Mark’s desk.
“Hey, Mark, how’s it going?”

“Okay.” Though Mark tried to sound upbeat, his voice came out quiet and dull. He couldn’t
seem to find the energy for any pretense.

Tim’s grin faded slightly, and his eyebrows drew together a bit over his deep blue eyes. He
opened his mouth as if to speak, shut it, and finally said, “You know the drill. Sign on the
dotted line.”

Mark signed and wished he could think of something to say. Oh well, anything I’d say
would be stupid anyway. Embarrassed and unhappy, he tore his gaze away from Tim’s face
and stared down at his desk. Go away. Please, just go away.

“Have a good day, Mark.”

The second Tim cleared out, Mark let his head drop to the desk. God, I’m such an idiot. If
only I wasn’t mousy and timid….

“Are you all right?”

Mark jerked his head up. Tim stood in the doorway, looking concerned.

Mark’s misery was complete. “I’m fine.”

Tim approached the desk and held out a small box. “This one’s so small, I almost forgot it
in the truck.”

Forcing another smile, Mark reached for the clipboard. “No problem.” When Mark grasped
it, however, Tim didn’t let go. His gaze locked on Mark’s face.

“I didn’t really forget the package. I left it on purpose.”

Mark stared. “What? Why?”

Rather than answering, Tim changed the subject. “You know, you never seem very happy
to see me. I’m starting to think you don’t like me or something.” His slight chuckle as he
finally released the clipboard sounded forced.

For a long moment, Mark was too astonished to speak. It had never occurred to him that
Tim would see his nervousness as dislike. He fumbled for the right words. “I don’t. I mean,
I do.” Frustrated, he sighed.

Taking pity on him, Tim spoke again, voice still uncertain. “So, you don’t dislike me?”

Mark gathered up his courage and met those gorgeous blue eyes. “Not at all.”

Tim’s slow smile lit his whole face. “I wanted to have an excuse to come back up here.”

Once again Mark found himself at a loss. “What?”

“That’s why I left the package. So I would have an excuse to come back up here and see
you again.” The deliveryman leaned against Mark’s desk, grinning like his old self again.

Unable to help himself, Mark smiled back. “You don’t need an excuse.” Had he just said
that? He detected the start of yet another blush, but he held their eye contact.

Tim leaned in close. His voice almost a whisper, he asked, “And if I wanted to see you
outside of this place? Would I need an excuse then?”

This was it. After all the waiting and hoping and nervousness, Tim was finally asking him
out. Mark wanted to jump up and down with glee. Instead, he shook his head. “No excuses
necessary.”

“In that case, are you busy tonight?”

Mark scrawled his signature on the clipboard he’d nearly forgotten he held and handed it
over. Suddenly, he felt a lot less nervous. He leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Yes. I’m
planning to spend the evening with this delivery guy I met at work.”

Tim burst out laughing. “Would it be okay if the delivery guy picked you up at seven?”

“That would be perfect.” Mark grabbed his notepad and printed his address and phone
number. Tim took the paper and wrote his own number on the next sheet, along with his
name. As if Mark would forget.

“So. I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Mark nodded, still smiling.

Tim ghosted a touch over the back of his hand, the one holding Tim’s number. “I’ll be
counting the hours. Bye, Mark.”

When Tim had gone, Mark smoothed a finger over the paper with Tim’s number, thinking
of the night ahead. The back of his hand still tingled from the fleeting contact.

He decided to skip lunch. The girls could wait until Monday to hear about his special
delivery.

Chapter Three

By Friday night, Mark’s nervousness had reached epic proportions. Since he didn’t know
where they were going, deciding what to wear was difficult. After he discarded half the
options in his closet, he settled on his favorite jeans and a dark green sweater. Then he
messed with his hair until he thought it looked presentable at least.

Punctual as always, he finished getting ready at six forty-five, which left him fifteen
minutes to stress out. Fortunately, he heard a knock on his apartment door at six-fifty. He
wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and went to answer.

Tim stood in the hallway, dressed in jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a leather jacket, hands in
his pockets. He gave Mark a quick once-over and grinned. “Hey, Mark. You look really
nice.”

Mark ducked his head. “Thanks. So do you.” His words a definite understatement. Tim
looked good in his delivery uniform, but in regular clothes, without the hat, he was
gorgeous. As Mark had suspected, his hair was brown. There was nothing mousy about the
dark chocolate shade, though. It contrasted beautifully with his blue eyes. Mark found
himself a little star-struck.

Tim’s grin widened. “We’re a regular mutual admiration society tonight.”

He laughed a little, even though the heat in his face told him he blushed. To draw attention
away from himself, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Where are we going
tonight?”

Now Tim blushed, small spots of red appearing on his cheeks. It was cute. “I’m not a real
creative guy, apparently. All I could think of was dinner and a movie. I hope you don’t
mind.”

The sight of self-assured Tim blushing did a lot to put Mark at ease. “I don’t mind at all.
Dinner and a movie sounds great.”

* * * *

The dinner and the movie turned out to be a lot of fun. Tim took Mark to a fondue
restaurant, something he’d never experienced before. At first he balked at dipping bread
and vegetables into the messy cheese. Then Tim got some on his chin, and they both
laughed, which broke the ice. After that he dipped with abandon. He especially enjoyed the
chocolate fondue dessert. The small pot of melted chocolate came with strawberries,
banana slices, marshmallows, and brownies. Watching Tim eat chocolate-covered
strawberries was kind of hot.

Later, Tim drove to a small theater showing less commercial movies. They saw a thought-
provoking gay themed biopic. Mark enjoyed the movie, but he enjoyed their conversation
about it afterward even more. His shyness melted away during their discussion.

When Tim pulled the car into the parking lot of his apartment building, Mark didn’t want
the night to end.

Tim shifted the car into park and turned toward him. “I had a great time tonight, Mark.”

“Me too.”

Tim reached over and touched his hand. “I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that too.” He didn’t even try to hold back his smile.

Tim’s eyes lit, and for a long moment they sat there staring at each other. Finally, Tim
leaned forward. He stopped about a foot away. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” A surge of boldness filled him, and he closed the distance between them to
press his lips against Tim’s. Tim let him set the pace, so he kept the kiss short, soft, and
sweet. His lips tingled as he drew back. “I’ll see you at work.” He flashed Tim a quick
smile, unbuckled his seat belt, and hopped out of the car.

He went to bed an hour later. His lips still tingled.

* * * *

Monday rolled around, but Mark didn’t tell the girls at the office about his date. He wanted
to keep the knowledge to himself for a while longer, a wonderful secret between himself
and Tim. If Jenny had any idea why he was in such a good mood, she didn’t let on. For
once, she didn’t ask him. Of course, she’d been running late and only had a few minutes to
talk in the morning, which probably explained why she hadn’t.

Tim came in at around ten. Other than giving Mark an extra-bright smile, his professional
routine didn’t vary—until he’d delivered the packages and gotten Mark’s signature. Then
he handed Mark a small white box with a card attached.

The card read: Something to remember our date by.

Inside the box sat two chocolate-covered strawberries.

* * * *

Tuesday passed without a delivery. Mark would have been disappointed, but Tim called
him that night to ask if he’d like to go out again on Friday. He accepted, promising to make
the plans, an offer Tim eagerly accepted.

The rest of the week flew by. Mark’s unceasing good cheer seemed to puzzle his
coworkers. Even Lisa couldn’t bring him down.

On Friday night they went ice skating at an outdoor rink. Mark loved ice skating. Lessons
as a child had helped him gain skill and confidence on the ice. Guys at school had teased
him about his “girly” hobby, at least until he’d joined the ice hockey team in junior high
and done well. He hadn’t skated in a while, but, like riding a bike, he remembered the old
moves.

Tim, on the other hand, confessed to being a terrible skater. Once they stepped out onto the
ice, Mark realized Tim hadn’t exaggerated his lack of skill. He spent part of the time
hanging on to the rail, or Mark, and part of the time falling down. By the time they took a
break for hot cocoa, though, Tim had improved enough to stand on his own without ending
up on his backside.

Right before they left, the DJ announced a couples skate. Tim held out his gloved hand, a
hopeful smile on his face. “Willing to risk falling?”

Mark grinned and took his hand. “To skate with you? Definitely.”

Holding hands, they circled the rink slowly to the tune of a love song by some teenage pop
star Mark didn’t recognize. Other couples sped by them, but he didn’t care. His thoughts all
revolved around the hand in his.

* * * *

Over the next month, Mark and Tim saw each other at least once every weekend. They
talked on the phone a couple of times each week as well. Mark couldn’t remember ever
being happier. He and Tim had a lot in common, and when they disagreed they had
interesting debates. Tim listened to him, really listened, not seeming to mind the times his
shyness kicked in and he had trouble expressing himself. Every time they talked Mark fell
for Tim a little bit more.

At work they kept up their friendly-yet-professional veneer. No one had a clue their
relationship had changed, except for Jenny. Dying to tell someone, he finally confessed to
her. He also swore her to secrecy, a vow she didn’t break even though he could tell she
wanted to rub his good luck in Lisa’s face. He knew how much Lisa’s attitude galled her in
the lunchroom. A couple of times during lunch, she opened her mouth to speak, sneaked a
guilty look at him, and then stopped. The expression on her face as she tried not to spill his
news amused him to no end.

One Friday morning Jenny asked the question he knew she’d held in for at least a week or
two. “So, have you slept with him yet?”

Mark choked on his coffee. Some went down the wrong pipe, and he coughed. “Geez, Jen,
warn me next time you plan to ask something like that!”

She giggled. “Sorry. So have you?”

His face grew hot. Even his ears burned. “No.” Not for lack of desire, but his shyness and
Tim’s gentlemanly behavior had kept them from getting any farther than heated kisses.

Jenny’s eyes widened. “Wow, really? Why not? He’s hot.”

Annoyed, he glared at her.

“You want to sleep with him, though. Right? I mean, you like him, and you want to keep
seeing him and all that?”

Now she had her concerned face on, which deflated his annoyance. “Yes. It’s just that when
I think about it I get nervous. And he doesn’t push for anything more.” A horrifying
thought occurred to him. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

A wide-eyed stare, then gales of laughter followed his comment. “Of course he wants to!
He’s a guy. What guy doesn’t want to have sex? Besides, he likes you a lot, I can tell. He’s
probably just waiting for a sign from you. You’re not the easiest guy to woo, I bet.”

“Woo? Have you been watching Pride and Prejudice again?” He snickered.

“Shut up.” She elbowed him before she continued. “What you need to do is show him you
want him too. Don’t hint around, make it obvious.”

How could he make his desire obvious? If he tried to say the words, he’d probably trip over
his own tongue and sound like an idiot. There had to be some way to let Tim know he was
ready to take their relationship to the next level.

* * * *

That night, Mark and Tim had made plans to have dinner and watch a movie at Tim’s
apartment. Mark’s conversation with Jenny replayed in his head as he dressed to go to
Tim’s. He chose his clothing carefully—worn jeans and a white Oxford shirt under a pale
blue cashmere sweater. He liked the comfort of the outfit, and the soft material would be a
plus if he managed to get closer to Tim than usual.

He peered at himself in the mirror, second thoughts assailing him. Would Tim think he
looked too preppy? Maybe he’d worn too many clothes. He almost stripped down to get rid
of the Oxford shirt, but instead he smoothed his hair. Worrying about his clothes would
only make tonight more nerve-wracking. He needed to chill.

After brushing his teeth, he forced himself to leave for Tim’s instead of stressing over silly
things.

Ten minutes later, he knocked on Tim’s door. It opened right away. Tim stood in the
doorway in jeans and a t-shirt, his feet bare. Somehow the sight of those long, narrow feet
made Mark think of his plans for later. The butterflies in his stomach turned into passenger
aircraft.

Tim smiled at him. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Mark trailed behind him to the apartment’s small kitchen. A tiny, two-person table stood in
the corner, set for dinner. Tim had gone all out. Unlike Mark, he had a tablecloth, pristine
white and perfectly placed. The simple white dishes matched, and a wine glass flanked each
plate. A pretty red rose in a vase and two candles acted as a centerpiece.

Impressed, Mark stopped to gaze at the lovely arrangement. “Wow.”

Tim shuffled his feet. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. The table is beautiful. It makes me feel like this is a
special occasion.”

Tim reached over and caught his hand. “This is a special occasion.”

Mark squeezed Tim’s hand, at a loss for words. If he hadn’t been falling in love before,
Tim’s words ensured it.

Chapter Four

Mark didn’t possess any skill in the kitchen, but Tim certainly did. His homemade fettucine
alfredo turned out to be delicious, along with the salad, bread, and the tiramisu he’d made
for dessert. When Mark said as much, Tim grinned and replied that he knew the way to a
man’s heart.

They both laughed, but the truth of Tim’s joking statement resonated with Mark. Tim had
Mark’s heart, if he could find the courage to show him.

With dinner finished, Mark insisted on helping Tim clean up. They cleared the table and
loaded the dishwasher together, quick and efficient like they’d been working side by side in
a small kitchen for years. The domesticity of it all appealed to Mark.

In the living room, Tim turned the lights down low and cued up the DVD player. Rather
than sitting on one end of the sofa as he normally did, Mark waited until Tim sat at one end
and then claimed the middle cushion for himself.

A third of the way through the movie, a cute, but silly romantic comedy, Mark gathered the
nerve to scoot closer to Tim. Tim lifted his arm and drew Mark against his side until he
rested his head against Tim’s shoulder. Mark snuggled in, enjoying Tim’s warmth and
strength.

By the last act of the film, Mark could not have cared less about the contrived plot. He
couldn’t focus on anything but Tim’s nearness. He lifted his head to find the object of his
thoughts smiling down at him. Their eyes locked, and he thought he might drown in Tim’s
gorgeous blue gaze. Without stopping to think, he leaned up for a kiss.

Tim met him halfway. The touch of Tim’s lips against his set off a chain reaction of
sensation, far beyond what such a simple brush should have caused. Rather than allowing
the feelings to make him nervous, Mark reveled in them. His lips parted of their own
accord, and Tim’s tongue swept into his mouth to tease the sensitive inner tissue.

Mark shivered under the gentle onslaught and kissed Tim back with everything he had.
Minutes blurred into each other as their lips met, parted, and came together again. As usual,
Tim didn’t press for anything more, but this time the tense muscles beneath Mark’s
fingertips revealed his struggle to hold himself in check.

Mark didn’t want Tim to hold back. He needed to be bold, to show Tim what he wanted.
Words weren’t his forte. He would have to use action to get his point across.

He’d wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, so he released his grip and brought his hands
down Tim’s sides to his back. Then, fingers shaking a little from nerves, Mark slid his
hands up under Tim’s t-shirt.

Tim actually trembled as Mark stroked the smooth, warm skin of his back. He broke the
kiss, panting. Before he could say anything, Mark leaned forward and pressed his mouth to
the spot on Tim’s neck just above his shoulder, left bare by the t-shirt’s neckline.

Tim groaned and let his head fall back against the couch cushion. He peered at Mark
through half-closed eyes. “Mark?”

The last thing Mark wanted to do was talk. If he tried to explain the things in his heart, he’d
only make a fool of himself. His hands could say it better anyway. He smiled. In a slow,
deliberate move, he shifted his hands from Tim’s back to his chest.

Tim’s gaze heated. With a growl, he tugged Mark to him and fused their mouths together in
a passionate kiss. Mark heard tiny whimpering sounds and realized they came from him,
but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. The desire overwhelming him left no
room for anything else.

As they kissed, Mark’s hands roamed Tim’s torso, restless. One fingertip ghosted over a
nipple, and Tim twitched. Mark repeated the action on both nipples at the same time to see
what Tim would do.

He didn’t have long to wait. Tim drew back, his eyes a little wild, and grasped the hem of
Mark’s sweater. “Is this okay?”

Mark nodded. To show he meant it, he reluctantly took his hands off Tim and lifted his
arms. Tim had the sweater off in seconds, leaving him in his now-rumpled Oxford shirt.

Tim eyed the shirt. “I love the way you dress.”

Puzzled, he looked down at himself. He couldn’t see anything interesting about his clothes.
“What? Why?”

Grinning, Tim unfastened the button at Mark’s collar. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think
I’d like to finish what I started.”

Mark couldn’t think of a single objection to that plan. In moments, Tim’s nimble fingers
made short work of Mark’s buttons, and his shirt hung open. Tim swept the garment off his
shoulders in a single quick movement. He pulled Mark to him, hands touching and stroking
Mark’s newly exposed skin with an almost reverent gentleness.

Mark found Tim’s mouth and kissed him, quick and hard, before he grabbed the hem of
Tim’s t-shirt and tugged it off. He tossed the piece of clothing over his shoulder and paused
a moment to admire what he’d uncovered. As he’d expected, Tim had the sort of body
honed by work rather than a gym, sleek and muscular without being overly defined.

He ran a teasing finger across Tim’s chest. Then he followed the finger’s path with his lips.
Tim groaned and arched toward him. Mark grinned at the heady sense of power that

coursed through him. He lapped at Tim’s nipple, teasing, and gathered the courage to bring
his hands to the waistband of Tim’s jeans.

Tim caught his hands. “Mark, wait. You know you don’t have to, right?”

Even then Tim was a gentleman. Mark lifted his gaze to meet Tim’s earnest eyes. He
smiled. “I know. I want to. I want to do everything with you.”

Tim’s breath caught. “Everything?”

He nodded.

Tim brought one of Mark’s hands to his lips. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, then.”

Hand in hand they rushed down the hallway to Tim’s bedroom. The few seconds it took
them to reach their destination felt like an eternity. Once there, they fell onto the bed
together, mouths meeting and hands touching wherever they could reach.

They both tried to unfasten each other’s pants at the same time, and their hands tangled.
Laughing, they broke apart and each stripped off their own clothing instead. Naked, they
came back together in yet another kiss.

Every time Mark had been with a new guy for the first time, he’d been nervous as hell, but
not this time. With Tim, anticipation and pleasure replaced nervousness. It helped that Tim
didn’t rush. Instead, he seemed to want to learn every inch of Mark’s body with his mouth
and hands. Each touch sent a wave of arousal and heat through Mark, until he couldn’t wait
any longer.

He whimpered. “Tim, please.”

He started to turn onto his stomach, but Tim stopped him. “Stay like this. I want to see
you.”

He stayed. Tim grabbed lube and slicked his fingers. The first finger that breached Mark’s
body reduced him to incoherence. All he seemed to be able to do was moan and writhe as
Tim played his body like a master violinist. First one finger, then two, stretched him.

Impatient, he twisted his upper body until he could reach the condom on the bedside table.
Finally snagging the foil packet, he flopped back down and thrust it at Tim, who laughed.
“Okay, okay.”

After taking the packet, Tim tore it open and rolled the condom onto his erection. Mark
watched, the sight pushing his arousal even higher. “Hurry.”

Tim didn’t laugh again. Instead he got into position and pushed. Mark threw his head back
and moaned at the exquisite pleasure-pain of the intrusion. The slow burn reminded him
how long it had been and how good it could be with the right person.

With Tim fully seated inside him, they both stilled. Their eyes met. A soft smile forming on
his lips, Tim leaned down and kissed him. He closed his eyes to savor the taste of Tim’s
mouth and the feeling of fullness and connection.

For several long moments, Tim did nothing except kiss him, yet Mark’s arousal didn’t fade.
It built higher and higher until he thought he’d die if Tim didn’t do something—anything.

Tim chose that moment to grant Mark’s wish. He pulled out and pushed back in at a
measured, steady pace Mark thought must be designed to drive him insane. Mark arched up
to meet Tim’s thrusts in an attempt to speed Tim up, but Tim refused to be rushed and kept
his pace.

The heat, fullness, and friction soon had Mark on the edge of release. Tim reached down
and grasped Mark’s erection. He only had to stroke a few times before Mark’s orgasm
boiled up from somewhere in the vicinity of his spine and burst through him.

He tensed and cried out, hot semen splattering his stomach and Tim’s hand.

Tim thrust a few more times, faster, his movements suddenly awkward and uncoordinated
as Mark’s body clamped down on him. He cried out Mark’s name in a low, hoarse voice,
signaling his climax. Several minutes passed while Tim trembled against him. Mark held
their position until Tim seemed more stable, and then he rolled onto his back. Tim
collapsed next to Mark. They lay there in silence, both breathing heavily. Mark slid his
hand over the few inches of bed separating them until their hands touched. He smiled as
Tim laced their fingers together.

Mark dozed off for a few minutes, but awakened to wet warmth on his stomach. Opening
his eyes, he saw Tim leaning over him with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning the mess
from his stomach and thighs.

Tim stopped. “Sorry I woke you.”

“That’s all right.” He nodded toward the cloth. “Thank you. That would have gotten itchy
soon enough.”

Tim laughed quietly. “Yeah.” He finished his task and tossed the cloth into a nearby
hamper. He paused, appearing to consider something, and then cupped Mark’s cheek with
his large hand. “You know, the first time I saw you at your desk, all straight-laced and shy
and sexy, I wanted you. I just didn’t realize how fast I was going to fall for you.”

Mark sucked in a sharp breath. That sounded like Tim felt the same way he did. Could he
be so lucky?

Tim’s smile dimmed a bit at Mark’s silence, but he continued. “I’m in love with you, Mark.
I have been for a while now. I don’t want you to think you have to say it back right now,
because you don’t, but—”

He loves me! For a brief instant Mark wondered if it were possible to be too happy. Then he
cradled Tim’s hand against his cheek, nuzzling into the touch. “I love you too. Now get
down here and kiss me.”

Not waiting for a response, Mark pulled Tim down and put his words into action.

* * * *

Mark didn’t go home until Sunday evening. He and Tim had spent half the day Saturday in
bed together, making love and talking. Saturday afternoon, he’d run by his place to pick up
a few things and then gone right back to Tim’s. After more sex than he’d had in months, if
not years, they had taken a walk together in a park near Tim’s apartment building on
Sunday afternoon, hand in hand. The whole weekend had been perfect.

Monday morning he arrived at work early, tired but happy enough not to care. The instant
Jenny caught sight of him, she cried, “Spill! How was it?”

Even thinking about the way Tim had touched him sent a frisson of arousal through him.
Unbidden, a slow smile crept across his face. “Wonderful.”

She sighed dreamily. “God, you’re so lucky. If you weren’t so sweet I’d hate you.”

He laughed.

Together, they headed to the break room to drop off their lunches. In the corner, Lisa and
Tonya gossiped about something. They stopped talking when Mark and Jenny entered the
room.

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him. He shook his head. He didn’t need to one-up Lisa with his
news.

Instead, he walked over to the refrigerator and stowed his lunch. On the way, he smiled at
Lisa and Tonya. “Good morning, ladies.”

Lisa’s brow crinkled into a suspicious expression. “What are you so chipper about?”

Wouldn’t she like to know? Still grinning, he shrugged and left the room.

* * * *

At eight-thirty, the firm’s four partners met in the conference room next to Ms. Berkowitz’s
office to discuss adding another partner. Each partner brought his or her secretary to take

notes at the meeting. Nearly an hour and a half passed before the meeting wrapped up. It
probably would have gone longer, but two of the partners had ten o’clock appointments
they hadn’t been able to reschedule.

The partners filed out of the room, Ms. Berkowitz still talking with Mr. Daley. The
secretaries followed. In the hall, they ran into Tim, who pushed a cart of packages in front
of him. He looked pleased to see them. “Excellent. I have packages for all four of you to
sign for.”

Rita heaved a mock-sigh. “Our work is never done.”

Tim laughed and started doling out packages. Rita signed for Mr. Crane’s first. Next, Jenny
signed for Mr. Richardson’s. Lisa and Mark each received one envelope. The three women
walked away.

Tim leaned toward Mark, brushing his hand when he took the clipboard back. “I missed
you this morning.”

The low-voiced comment sent a shaft of longing through Mark. “I missed you too. Call me
tonight?”

“Count on it.” Tim paused, as if to prolong the moment. “I love you.”

Now he could stop wondering if Tim was the kind of guy who would say “I love you” in
public. Mark melted. “I love you too.”

Tim’s smile grew impossibly brighter. Whistling under his breath, he turned and strode
toward the elevators. Mark watched him go, heart full.

Then he heard giggling. He whirled around, horrified to see Jenny, Rita, and Lisa standing
in the doorway of a nearby conference room.

Rita beamed at him. “Good for you, honey. He seems like such a sweet boy. And hot too!”

Jenny smirked like the cat that ate the canary. “I guess this means I win the bet. Right,
Lisa?”

Lisa’s fake smile could have doubled for a grimace. “I guess so. I suppose even a little
mouse can catch a man eventually.”

The way she acted, he’d fallen in love with Tim just to spite her. He tuned her out. Six
weeks ago he would have been embarrassed about them overhearing his conversation with
Tim and intimidated by Lisa’s attitude. Now he didn’t care. He had good friends, a job he
liked, and the deliveryman of his dreams.

Life didn’t get much better than that.

An Excerpt from: Personal Demon

The smell of cologne returned, and a strawberry appeared before Father Blake’s nose. The
deep red skin promised sweetness. At least they’d decided to not include apple slices on the
fruit tray.

“Try one. They’re quite good.” Gianni inched the strawberry closer to Father Blake’s lips.

With just the coolness from the berry registering on his skin, Father Blake turned his head
to face the pursuer he didn’t want to evade. “This isn’t wise, Gianni.”

“It’s just a berry, Blake.” Gianni turned his hand and bit off the tip of the strawberry. A
mist of juice settled upon his lips. He chewed it exactly twice before swallowing. The tip of
his tongue outlined the bite mark and dipped into the center of the fruit.

Father Blake’s knees nearly betrayed him.

“Just a,” Gianni whispered, returning the berry to Blake’s lips, “a berry. A sweet one.”

The edge of the bite mark traced Father Blake’s lips. The sweet aroma of the fruit filled his
nostrils.

The tree had been planted in the garden for a reason, right? For the life of him, Father Blake
couldn’t remember why. Liquid sweetness from the berry slicked across his lips. His
tongue darted out, sought to taste the residue, and unintentionally tagged the side of the
berry.

Gianni, apparently, wouldn’t let that slip by.

The wavering resolve of the priest fell to the needs of the man. The dimpled skin of the
strawberry slid between Blake’s lips. Equal amounts of tart and sweet imbued his taste buds
with a dizzying tang. Amidst solid eye-contact with Gianni, he pushed his tongue into the
hollow of the berry, mashing the fruit’s flesh as he tasted it. Juice from the berry flooded
his mouth and dribbled over his lips to his chin. The actual taste of the strawberry barely
registered to his mind, but he knew this had to be the sweetest strawberry of his life.

Gianni’s fingers held the top of the fruit and pressed it against Blake’s lips. Drawing his
tongue back, Blake took the berry deeply into his mouth. He crushed the pulp against the
roof of his mouth, causing the bulk of the fruit’s flesh to split upon his tongue. Blake closed
his eyes.

Twice in half as many days, the serpent bit him.

Tiny seeds crunched between Blake’s molars as he snatched Gianni’s wrist. Pulp slid on the
back of his tongue when he kissed Gianni’s palm. The tip of his nose tucked between two
fingers, and he swallowed what remained in his mouth. Before he realized what he was
doing, he licked the center crease of Gianni’s palm. His tongue roamed and pushed as it
tried to find more fruit. Opening his eyes, he found his vision flanked by Gianni’s fingers
and filled with the light gleaming off the deacon’s cross lapel pin on the open black blazer.

He winced, pushed the hand away, and stared at the crucifix perched above the doorframe.
Gianni’s commanding presence engulfed Father Blake and eroded what little willpower he
could harvest. Why now?

Caught in a choke-hold by his burden, he sputtered, “Kiss me.”

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