The Delicious Series: The First Volume

by Stella Starling

  “Please… fuck… now,” Danny panted in the dark, forgetting where he was, forgetting that it was just a fantasy, forgetting everything except the maddening, delicious tension that was building inside him hot and fast, coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to overwhelm him until Mace’s face lit with pleasure above him, pushing Danny… right… over… the—

  Danny’s hips arched off the bed, a hoarse shout ripping from his throat as he came.

  The feeling was too much. An overload. A heady, hot rush that went on and on and on, whiting out his vision and making him feel turned inside out. So good, but an end to the fantasy that had left him both wrung out and utterly satisfied... satisfied, as long as he didn’t open his eyes.

  As long as he just floated in the afterglow and refused to let reality intrude.

  As long as he could imagine that it was okay that he didn’t want to move. It was okay not to get up, clean up, work his way out of the sheets that had tangled around his legs or do one single, solitary thing that would remind him that he was still alone. That Mace hadn’t followed their hot passion with a sweet kiss, just slipped out of bed to get a warm towel, would be right back any moment…

  Nope.

  Danny wasn’t having any of that reality, not when fantasy was so much better.

  He let his hand rest limply on his sticky, wet stomach. His lips curve up as his body sank deeper into the mattress, his mind drifting down into a blissful, heavenly sleep. One that, for a few hours at least, would let him dream that even though it hadn’t been real, somehow, just maybe, it could be.

  Someday.

  4

  Mace

  Mace was stuck working with Jerry again, and the dickhead was currently annoying the shit out of him. For some reason, he was having more trouble than usual tuning his coworker out… or maybe it was just that his own thoughts were too full of unfamiliar things.

  They were deadheading in the rose garden again. Usually, he found it easy to get lost in the soothing, mindless rhythm of caring for the plants. Today though, he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on it. Every time he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, he found himself looking up, half expecting to see Danny come bouncing along one of the pathways like he had the first time Mace had seen him.

  “Shit, I hate Mondays,” Jerry grumbled, plucking blooms haphazardly off the rosebush next to Mace. “You do anything good this weekend, Mason? Go out? Get laid?”

  Jerry kept talking, clearly not requiring an answer, and Mace did his best to ignore Jerry’s rambling story about picking up some girl in a bar as he not-so-subtly picked up his pace so he could move away from the other man.

  As much as Mace liked his job, he usually enjoyed the break of relaxing on his two days off. For some reason, though, this time he hadn’t been able to unwind. His weekend hadn’t been bad, just... restless. He’d spent a little time at the library, filled some more by fussing with a few new cuttings, and the rest of it doing nothing.

  Well, not exactly nothing.

  He’d wandered the neighborhood that he’d never taken much time to explore before now, passing by the bakery where Danny worked a few times. He’d even paused there to deadhead some of the flowers in the hanging basket by the door, but he hadn’t seen the other man when he’d glanced through the windows. It made him wonder if Danny had weekends off, too. Not that it was any of his business. But it would be nice to know that the other man was okay, after the incident on Friday. Danny had been… fuck. Danny had been shaking after Mace had pulled those fucking guys off him near the azaleas.

  Mace had wanted to kill them.

  He accidentally snapped a stem on the rosebush in front of him, and he made himself pause for a moment and take a breath. The plant didn’t deserve to have his anger taken out on it. Which probably meant that he needed to stop thinking about the hot surge of rage he’d felt when he’d rounded the corner and seen those two fuckwads with their hands on Danny. It had been like when he’d caught some kids ring-barking trees in the arboretum, but worse. A thousand times worse. He’d been torn between following Danny’s attackers so he could beat the living shit out of them, and wanting to stay. Wanting to do something to stop Danny from trembling like a leaf. Mace wasn’t one for excessive touching, but he’d been tempted to pull the smaller man into his arms and just… hold him.

  Which would have been weird.

  Something bright caught his eye, and he glanced up quickly. Two teenage girls. He sighed, turning his attention back to the roses in front of him as he rubbed his arm. Danny had touched him there, right above his wrist. Laid his hand on Mace’s skin and made it buzz, as if a thousand tiny insect legs were crawling over it, but not in a way that made him want to brush it off. It had felt nice.

  The park was busier than usual for a Monday, and for some reason that was irritating him, too. He kept getting distracted, and after he’d inadvertently clipped a living bud for the third time, he straightened up and tucked his shears away, realizing he owed it to the roses to take a break. After telling Jerry he was taking fifteen, Mace wandered in the direction of Daffodil Hill. Toward the azaleas. He hoped Danny had heeded his warning and would take a different route into the park next time he came. If he came, that was. Not that Mace could blame him if he’d rather stay away. But then, as if his thoughts had finally conjured him out of thin air, Mace heard his name. He spun around, and Danny was there.

  “Mace! I was hoping to find—oh.” The other man stopped a few feet away, sucking in a breath as his light eyes went almost comically wide.

  Mace couldn’t decide what color they were. Something between blue and green, the color seeming all the more pale because it was rimmed with a black edge. They were really kind of beautiful. And staring at him. Mace glanced down at himself.

  “What?” he asked, his heart racing for some reason.

  “You were smiling,” Danny said, sounding slightly breathless. “I mean, obviously you do. You must, right? I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve done it, but it’s just the first time, I mean, I haven’t seen, um…” Danny’s voice trailed off into a nervous laugh, and his cheeks turned the same shade of pink as the little bakery bag he was holding.

  Mace rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what he was supposed to say to that. Smiling? He hadn’t even realized he’d done it. Luckily, Danny saved him from trying to explain himself, crossing the rest of the distance between them and holding out the bag.

  “I made you some cookies. I mean, not ‘made.’ I decorated them. And, um, brought them. For you. Gavin makes them. I just… I decorate. But I wanted to thank you. Again, I mean. For coming to my… well, for stopping those guys. On Friday. Oh my God, I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

  “Who’s Gavin?” Mace asked, which was none of his business at all but which he suddenly needed to know.

  “Gav?” Danny’s eyebrows shot up, his voice still breathless and the pink stain still making his cheeks look as soft as rose petals. “He’s my…” Danny’s voice trailed off, then his eyes, which had drifted down to Mace’s mouth, jerked back up to meet his eyes. “I mean, Gavin owns Delicious,” he finished.

  Mace had seen the owner of the bakery before. A slim, dark-haired man. Smaller than Mace, but bigger than Danny. A man that Danny had just used the word “my” to refer to, even though he hadn’t said what the nature of his claim was.

  Mace shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. Not liking it. Not sure why.

  Danny was saying something else about the bakery, something about the man who owned it, but Mace missed it, distracted by his own thoughts. He only realized his inattention when Danny’s voice faded away to nothing, his normally-expressive mouth going still.

  Mace felt like he should say something, like it was his turn now, but he didn’t know what. Saying things wasn’t really his strength, and even though he’d been watching for—no, just wondering if Danny would come back to the park, because… because he wanted him to be safe, even so, he hadn’t actu
ally planned on saying anything to him if he did see him or planned out what that something might be if he ever had the chance.

  And then it was too late.

  Danny had been watching Mace’s face, and he nibbled his lower lip for a moment before thrusting the pink bag forward again. “Anyway, here. The cookies. They’re for you. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “No!” The word burst out of him, and he immediately wanted to kick himself for causing the brief flash of hurt that flashed across Danny’s too-pretty face at the harsh word. He clenched his jaw for a moment, not sure why he was feeling so out-of-sorts today. But he didn’t want Danny to think he had to leave yet, at least, not on Mace’s behalf. “I still have time on my break,” he added, taking the bag and looking inside.

  Danny had mentioned cookies, but Mace didn’t see any. Instead, he saw flowers.

  Mace pulled one out, a dark shade of pink in the middle, the edges of the petals streaked with white. It looked so real—vibrant and alive and beautiful—that he had to run a finger across it to confirm that the delicate, gently curving blossom was actually flat. Danny had said he’d decorated the cookies, but this… this was more than decoration, it was art, and Mace marveled that anyone could so perfectly capture the image of a living thing. There was no doubt about which flower it was, either. Danny had captured it perfectly.

  “Take care of yourself for me,” Mace murmured. He glanced up, the expression on Danny’s face making him realize he’d spoken out loud.

  Danny looked like the flowers. Beautiful. His cheeks were pink again, and the color suited him. As did the sparkle that was back in his eyes.

  Mace cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed to be noticing such things. “It’s an azalea,” he said gruffly, stating the obvious. But maybe Danny didn’t know that… “Flowers have meanings, and azaleas mean ‘take care of yourself for me.’”

  “Oh,” Danny said, getting brighter as he followed up the word with a self-conscious-sounding laugh. “I thought you were… um, I mean, I didn’t know that.”

  Danny had thought Mace was what?

  Mace looked back down at the cookie, the art, in his hand. He couldn’t ask that. He ran a finger over the azalea cookie’s petals. “I can’t eat this.”

  Danny’s face fell. “Oh.”

  Mace’s eyes jerked back up to Danny’s face. Shit. He’d killed the sparkle again. “It’s too perfect,” he said, hoping to explain. To get Danny’s beautiful sparkle back. “I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

  Danny smiled at that, his expression changing so fast and sudden that it was like the sun had suddenly come out, and something moved inside Mace’s chest.

  “It’s meant to be eaten,” Danny said, radiating sunshine as a cascade of breathless words tumbled out of his mouth. “Besides, there are plenty more where that came from. And you could always stop in at Delicious sometime if you like them. I make other flowers, too. I only did azaleas this time because… um,” —his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink as he finished his sentence, the color of the sweet pea flowers Helen had showed Mace pictures of from her garden— “well, I made them for you.”

  For Mace?

  He’d looked up the meaning of sweet peas when Helen had told him Chris had planted them for her. Delicate, blissful pleasure. Mace wasn’t sure what that would be, exactly, but maybe it was something like the buzzing sensation he suddenly felt. It was just like when Danny had touched his arm the other day, except he felt it inside this time instead of on his skin.

  He looked back down at the cookie, not sure what to do with the feeling. Danny wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, and maybe the buzzing was appropriate. It reminded him of honeybees, irresistibly drawn to the most beautiful flowers. Attracted by the bright colors, the sweet nectar. Enchanted.

  “I should head back to Delicious,” Danny said, filling the awkward silence. “There are more cookies waiting to be decorated. For a wedding. They want roses, of course, and heather.”

  But Danny didn’t move even though he’d just said he had to leave, and for one of the first times in ever, Mace wished he was better with words.

  He wasn’t, though, and wouldn’t have known which ones to use even if he had been.

  “Do those kind of flowers have meanings, too?” Danny finally asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

  They did.

  “I love you. Wishes will come true.”

  For some reason Mace’s answer made Danny’s eyes go wide again, and he made a funny little sound halfway between a squeak and a gasp that almost made Mace’s lips twitch up into another smile.

  “Oh my God,” Danny said after a moment, laughing as he rolled his eyes. “Okay. We’re talking roses. And.... and heather.”

  Mace nodded, still feeling his rarely used smile trying to break free. Danny seemed to have that effect on him.

  “And on that note, I should really, really go,” Danny said. And this time, he did.

  Which was a shame, even though, technically, Mace’s break was already over.

  Mace decided to head over to the library when he got off work, stopping off briefly at his apartment to shower and change first. He rented a small studio above a tea store, directly across the street from Delicious. He hadn’t paid that much attention to the bakery before, but now he couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from zeroing in on it every time he passed by.

  The sun was still high when he left his apartment for the library, and it glared off the bakery’s plate-glass windows, making it impossible to see inside. He wondered if Danny was still working, and as if his feet had a mind of their own, they carried him across the street to find out. Maybe he could go inside for a moment and see the other flowers Danny had mentioned decorating, but once he got close enough to see past the glare on the windows, he hesitated.

  Danny was there, behind the counter, but he was also standing with the man he’d mentioned earlier. Gavin, Danny had called him. The owner.

  They were standing closer than Mace was used to seeing men stand to each other.

  Too close.

  Did it mean something?

  Danny looked like he always did, brighter than everything around him. His face was lit up with a wide smile and Gavin had his hand on the small of Danny’s back, leaning over his shoulder as they both looked at something behind the counter. Danny’s lips moved, saying something to Gavin, and then his mouth curved down into a pretty little pout before they both burst into laughter.

  Mace swallowed, moving away from the window. The sight of the two of them together made his chest feel uncomfortably tense, and his hand tightened on the little bag he carried as he decided not to go inside the bakery after all.

  He turned toward the library. He’d wanted to give Helen some of the cookies Danny had brought him earlier. If anyone would appreciate them, it was her, and he liked the idea of doing something nice for the friendly librarian after she’d gone out of her way to track down and order the books he’d wanted.

  He should focus on that right now, not on bothering Danny and his… friend.

  When he got to the library, Helen gave him a cheery wave and a smile from the circulation desk, but she was swamped and clearly had no time to talk. Instead of approaching her, Mace wandered the stacks, letting his eyes roam over the books without really seeing them. He’d kept to himself for so many years that it had become a habit he’d stopped questioning, but he was starting to think that it might be nice to have someone to laugh with, the way Danny obviously did. Even if Mace’s relationship with Kelsie hadn’t been perfect, the sight of the two men in the bakery brought back memories of some of the happier times, moments that could only be shared by two people who knew each other well.

  Back when he’d first been arrested for the robbery that his foster brother had gotten involved in, Mace had assumed that Trevor would step up to clear Mace’s name. They’d known each other half their lives and had each spent most of their lives being shuffled through a system
that didn’t care about them. Once they’d found each other—become friends, brothers—they’d always had each other’s backs, even when the rest of the world that they’d lived in had felt like it was every man for himself. No matter what Trevor’s other failings had been, it had honestly never occurred to Mace that Trevor might let him take the fall for something he’d had nothing to do with. But he’d been wrong. And when Kelsie had also failed to speak up in his defense—had hooked up with Trevor as if he and Mace were interchangeable the minute she’d decided Mace’s problems with the law were too much for her to deal with—Mace had learned a bitter lesson about loyalty and trusting people and the dangers of counting on others, even the ones he’d once thought would never let him down.

  He’d decided not to make the mistake of wanting anyone in his life like that again, and so far, he’d stuck by that decision. There had been a few girls he’d hooked up with since being released who made it clear that they would have liked more than just scratching an itch, but while the sex had been fine, Mace hadn’t been interested in getting to know them beyond that. He’d been up-front about it, so hopefully that didn’t make him an asshole, but now… well, now, for some reason, he was almost tempted to wonder what it would be like to have something more in his life. Maybe if he decided to put some effort into it, he’d be able to find someone who inspired more than just a momentary stirring of his dick. Someone who smiled a lot, and appreciated beautiful things, and who could brighten up the day, just by being in it.

  If his history with Kelsie and Trevor had taught him anything, it was that It probably wasn’t smart or safe to think of looking for someone like that, but for the first time since his arrest, it was inexplicably tempting to think about.