Gav crossed his arms again. “Well, if he decides that, then he’d be an idiot.”
Danny snorted, loving Gavin for saying so, but still. “Well, then apparently there are a lot of idiots out there.”
“Sadly, this is true,” Gavin agreed with a sigh. “But Danny, has Mace given you any reason to think he is one? Or is this just… nerves?”
Danny almost smiled at that. Using the word “nerves” instead of “drama” was just one of the million reasons Gavin was his best friend, and okay, if Danny could admit that to himself, then it probably was just nerves.
Which he should probably admit to Gav, too, since maybe—hopefully?—Gavin would be able to help him with that. Or at least distract him while Mace was busy meeting up with his ex.
“It’s just nerves, I guess,” Danny said. “It’s just that everything with him is still really new and… and good. It’s really, really good, Gav, but it’s not like he’s even officially my boyfriend. And I just want so many things. I’m afraid to get my hopes up.”
“Hm,” Gavin said, which was epically unhelpful.
“Really?” Danny pressed, laughing despite himself. “That’s all you’ve got?”
Gavin grinned, then schooled his expression and said, “Well, here’s the thing. Mace may or may not turn out to be ‘The One,’ but if you’re happy for now, don’t taint it by looking for problems that don’t actually exist. If he turns out to be a frog after all, I know it will hurt, but you’ll get through it. You were happy before him, and you’ll be happy after him.”
“But I’d rather be happy with him, Gav,” Danny said, because really, wasn’t that how happily-ever-after was supposed to work?
Gavin laughed, looking at him fondly. “Then do it, sweetie. Let yourself believe unless he gives you a reason not to, okay?” He tugged Danny closer and gave him a quick hug, then winked. “And if that happens? We break his kneecaps.”
Danny snickered, rolling his eyes. What, Gav was the gay mafia now? Still, it was pretty great to know that he had good friends who always had his back.
“I do love you, you know,” Danny said, forcing himself not to look at the clock again because Gavin was right, as usual. It was time to stop looking for trouble where there wasn’t any. Danny had cookies to paint, and he’d see Mace after work, and everything would be fine.
Better than fine.
It would be perfect, because Mace may have been having lunch with his ex, but he was going to have his everything else with Danny.
Once Brandon arrived at Delicious to cover the front counter, Danny decided that he would take a late lunch at the park, after all. Sure, he’d been going there lately to see Mace, but even though what he’d told Gavin was true—that he wanted to be happy with Mace—that certainly didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy when he wasn’t with him, too. It was a gorgeous June day, and sketching at the park had always been something Danny had enjoyed on his own. Besides, he had an idea he wanted to work on.
After he and Mace had cleared up their misunderstandings on Saturday morning and then spent that oh-so-delicious naked time together on the couch, Danny had finally gotten around to asking him about the cash scattered across his kitchen floor.
“Why don’t you just put it in the bank?” he’d asked after Mace had told him it was savings toward that better life he’d been hoping for.
Mace had shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I was just a kid when I started it. Didn’t have access to a bank. Now it’s just a habit to keep it like this.”
He’d already told Danny a little more about his childhood. Not much, but enough for Danny’s heart to hurt a little as he pictured a younger Mace, doggedly tucking money away in the hopes of someday having something different. At the same time, though, he had to admire his determination. It was easy to imagine why crime had looked like an easier route to Mace’s foster brother, and knowing Mace had gone a different route just made Danny love him all the more.
Well, not “love,” of course.
Not yet.
Maybe.
Mace had tucked the money away in a drawer, sweeping the pieces of the broken cookie jar that he’d been keeping the cash in into the trash. But Danny had seen the way he’d traced the cracked letters on the ceramic shards with his finger before letting it go, and now Danny wanted to get him another one. Not—God—definitely not plain white though, especially after seeing Mace’s home. Instead, Danny wanted to design one decorated with the same gorgeous, lush abundance that Mace surrounded himself with in his apartment, and today was a perfect opportunity to sketch out some designs for it based on the summer blooms at Woodward Park.
Danny’s lunch hour passed quickly—and, even better, he got so absorbed in what he was doing that he forgot to fret about the fact that Mace was, at that very moment, with the ex-girlfriend who hadn’t deserved him. The one who Danny couldn’t imagine not wanting him back, even though Mace had said he wasn’t sure exactly why she wanted to see him. The one who Mace had a history with…
Danny huffed out a breath. Okay. Enough. Hadn’t he already decided not to worry about it?
He tucked his sketchbook under his arm and headed out of the park. Like Gavin had said, he didn’t need to go looking for problems that weren’t there. Advice, he decided, that also applied to the azalea path he’d been harassed on when he’d first met Mace.
The gorgeous walkway didn’t feel quite as secluded now that the spring blooms had started to die down, and besides, Danny had used it countless times before that incident without a problem. Just because it had happened once wasn’t a reason to let it scare him from ever using the path again. Still, it wasn’t until he’d made it to the top of the stone steps leading down toward the road that he started to relax.
Which, as it turned out, was a little too soon.
“I remember you.”
The voice was a little slurred, and the sound instantly put Danny’s stomach into a knot. Onion Breath. Danny’s skin crawled as the sudden, visceral memory of his attacker’s hands on him swamped him. This time, the guy was alone, though. He was standing just off the trail and swaying a little like he was either drunk or high, and Danny froze, staring at him as his heart skittered and a clammy sweat gathered on his palms. It was definitely the same guy who had given him trouble before, but maybe… well, maybe this time he would leave Danny alone.
“I know what you’ve been up to,” Onion Breath said, pointing toward Danny’s sketchbook with an ugly sneer. “I remember the kind of drawings you have in there.”
Danny squeezed the sketchbook against his chest, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears almost making him dizzy as he tried to make sense of what the man was saying. Oh. Right. Last time, Onion Breath and his friend had flipped through it and found the naked pictures of Mace that Danny had drawn that first day in the rose garden. But to run into the guy again? It was like a bad dream, and for a second, Danny almost let himself it could be. That he’d wake up and be safe.
“Help,” Danny whispered, even though there was no one to hear. He’d passed a few people on the path earlier who’d been heading into the park—the opposite direction from Danny—but at the moment there wasn’t anyone else around. The wide open field at the bottom of the stairs was empty all the way to the road, and Onion Breath laughed, clearly enjoying the rising panic that Danny knew he wasn’t doing a good job at hiding.
“Oh help me, help me,” the man mocked in a high falsetto. He made an exaggerated show of looking back over his shoulder, up the trail, and then his eyes turned meaner. “Your big, bad boyfriend’s not around to hear you this time, eh?”
Danny swallowed. He was right, Mace wasn’t around. Danny was on his own, and he was really, really tired of feeling scared of assholes like this. But thankfully, Onion Breath’s mocking had reminded him of something. Mace actually hadn’t heard him the last time Danny had been threatened, isn’t that what he’d told Danny? Get loud, Mace had said.
“Leave me alone,” Danny said,
straightening his shoulders and trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Onion Breath gave him a contemptuous smile, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Or what?”
“Back. Off!” Danny said, holding his sketchbook in front of him like a shield and raising his voice, loud enough this time that the man looked a little startled. But unfortunately, only for a moment.
“I don’t think so,” the guy said, lurching toward Danny. “I don’t even think you want me to, you sick fuck. I know what you really want, and this time, you’re going to get it…”
Oh, God ohGodohGod. Danny stopped listening, his moment of courage starting to get swamped by panic again. What else had Mace said? Go for the face? No, not the face. The eyes? Nose? Ears? What?
Mace had said not to get too close if Danny could help it. He should kick the man, right? Try to get away?
Danny glanced behind him. The road was right there. It wasn’t like he was trapped. And if the guy wasn’t going to back off, Danny had to… to do something.
Adrenaline flooded him in a hot rush, and when Onion Breath grabbed for him, Danny reacted without thinking, ramming his knee up between the other man’s legs.
“Fuck!” the guy said, stumbling backward and clutching himself. “You fucking little fuck!”
A woman with a dog rounded the corner of the trail behind Danny’s attacker, slightly out of breath, as if she’d been hurrying.
“Are you okay?” she asked Danny, looking between the two of them uncertainly. “I heard you call out.”
Onion Breath shot daggers at her with his eyes, then pushed past Danny roughly, knocking his sketchbook to the ground as he stumbled down the stairs and hurried away.
“Was he harassing you?” the woman asked Danny, looking after Onion Breath’s retreating back. “Should we call it in?”
Danny started to shake, but he felt… good. “I did it,” he said, figuring he was smiling like a loon based on the odd look she gave him.
“You already called it in?”
Danny shook his head, bending down to scoop up his sketchbook. “No, I… you heard me.” Calling it in was probably a good idea, but he was just glad Onion Breath was gone, and besides… “I have to get back to work.”
The woman looked like she was going to argue for a minute, but she didn’t. “Well, as long as you’re okay.”
“I am,” he said, suddenly feeling almost giddy. “And thank you.”
She smiled, tugging her dog’s leash as she turned back to the park. “Be careful.”
Danny nodded. Relief and adrenaline were both still coursing through his system, and maybe he wasn’t being entirely rational about not making more of a fuss, but God, he was too keyed up to deal with calling the police. Besides, he’d handled it, and he’d tell Mace about it later. Maybe ask him if there was maybe someone to notify at the park.
Danny made it across the field and reached the more populated sidewalk leading back to Delicious, still shaking a little. He had handled it, but he really needed to find the damn pepper spray Mace had given him, in case it happened again. And he needed to ask Mace for more self-defense lessons, too, because really, the knee thing had been a lucky shot. He needed… well, he just needed Mace.
But—Danny grinned, the shakes finally subsiding as he remembered the look on Onion Breath’s face when he’d doubled over—it was also kind of nice not to need Mace sometimes, too.
13
Mace
Mace pulled out his phone to check the time, wondering if it was broken. It definitely felt like it had been more than a couple of minutes since he’d last checked, regardless of what the little screen said. He tucked it back in his pocket, knowing he was being ridiculous. He’d almost called Danny earlier, after his lunch with Kelsie, but he hadn’t wanted to bother him when he was working. Now Mace was at the library, killing time, wondering if it would be too weird to go hang out at the bakery until Danny’s shift was over.
He ran a hand over his face, wanting to laugh at himself. He was definitely smitten.
“How’s that heliotrope doing, Mason?” Helen asked, coming around the corner with a cart full of books for reshelving.
“Good,” he said, thinking of the little purple flowers he’d started on his kitchen windowsill. “It rooted well. I’m going to pot it up soon.”
“That’s great,” she said, smiling. “I love that plant, and I’m going to have to take some cuttings of my own. Chris and I are moving into that new development over in Broken Arrow. It feels like we’ve been packing for longer than we’ve lived in the house! It’s amazing how quickly things accumulate after ten years.” She put a hand on the small of her back, laughing, and added, “And how much harder it is to lift them.”
“Do you have anyone to help you?” he asked, frowning. He’d never met Chris, but Helen was a tiny thing, and not young.
She nodded. “We’ll be doing most of the heavy lifting on Friday, and Chris’s brother is going to come lend a hand. We’re both taking the whole day off, so hopefully with his help we can get everything over to the new place before we have to return the moving van we’re renting on Saturday morning.”
“This Friday?” Mace asked. It was Wednesday.
Helen nodded.
“I’ll be off at 3:30, if you want some extra help,” he offered.
“You’d do that?” she asked, beaming up at him.
“Yeah,” he said, letting himself smile back at her. He pulled out his phone to add her to his contacts. Another fifteen minutes, and then he could head over to see Danny. “Just tell me where I need to show up.”
She gave him her address, patting his hand. “That will be a huge help, Mason. Thank you.”
“Mace,” he corrected her. “My friends call me Mace.”
Helen’s smile got even wider. “Well, I’m certainly pleased to be counted among those, Mace.” She paused, eyes twinkling, then asked, “And since I am, I’m going to take the liberty of asking how things are going with your friend at the bakery. I was in there the other day picking up some of Chris’s favorite cupcakes, and I think I saw him. The blond one, right?”
Mace nodded. “Danny.”
“And I’m going to guess by that smile on your face that you’re still… friends?”
“No,” Mace said, letting his smile get a little bigger. He’d ended up doing a lot of that lately. “He’s more than that now.”
Danny hadn’t offered any labels and Mace hadn’t asked, but he knew what it felt like for him—especially after spending time with Kelsie again to put it in perspective. It had been good to see her. Not good as in he’d enjoyed it, but a good reminder of what he didn’t want to go back to.
“Can’t we still be friends, Mace?” she’d asked tearfully as they’d finally left the little cafe he’d agreed to meet her at.
The lunch had been exhausting. She’d started it with tears and apologies, tried cutting anger followed by needy guilt and then a blatant invitation to go back to what they used to be, all before coming full circle back to tears again.
“Friends?” he’d asked. Not to be a dick about it, but he’d thought that was a little rich. “Were we ever, Kels?”
They’d needed each other for a while—stuck together as a way not to be alone, fucked just because they could, been more of a habit to each other than a relationship—but when push came to shove, he wasn’t sure that what they’d been to each other could ever have been called “friends.” Whatever the label, though, he didn’t miss it. He was more interested in looking ahead than behind, and his relationship with Danny was like night and day compared to what he’d had with her. Even back when he’d considered Kelsie his, he’d never felt the mix of fierce possessiveness and buzzing excitement that he felt for the man he was now counting down the minutes until he could see again.
“Good,” Helen said, patting his hand and pulling his attention back to the present. “You deserve some love in your life, Mace.”
Love? He was pretty sure he wasn’t
qualified to recognize it and would never go as far as claiming to deserve it, but if someone like Helen—who obviously knew all about things like that—thought it might apply, the last thing Mace wanted to do was argue against it.
And damn if he wasn’t smiling again.
By the time Mace arrived at Delicious, Danny was already closing up, out on the sidewalk and setting the alarm. He obviously hadn’t heard Mace approach, and he gave an adorable little squeak when Mace wrapped his arms around him from behind and nuzzled his neck.
“God, you scared me,” Danny said, turning to face him with a smile that made Mace’s chest feel too small. Not in a bad way, but like there was suddenly more inside him then could ever possibly fit; things he wasn’t sure he had names for, but that maybe, someday, might become what Helen had said.
“Sorry,” Mace said, smiling down at him because, despite a lifetime of schooling his features, around Danny, he honestly couldn’t help it anymore. “You should stay more aware when you’re by yourself, though” he added, glancing up the street. It was quiet at the moment, but he’d overheard some talk recently that there had been some crime in the neighborhood.
“Believe me, I know,” Danny said, the words coming out on a nervous laugh.
Mace frowned. It was good that Danny agreed, but the way he’d said it… was Danny worried about his safety, too?
Danny was clearly happy to see him, but he also seemed a little wound up. Jittery, but also tired… and still so fucking beautiful that—as Mace stroked Danny’s sides just above the waistline of his jeans, marveling that he had the right to do that now—it was an effort to remember that they were in public.
They were, though, so Mace made himself stop touching and take a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep himself from getting too handsy. He wanted to ask about Danny’s safety concerns, but before he got a chance to get the words out, Danny and all his jittery energy had already started walking away from the bakery.
The Delicious Series: The First Volume Page 15