“What?” Danny asked, looking back over his shoulder with a sparkling smile hovering over his mouth.
“You,” Mace said, smiling back as his fingers instinctively twitched toward Danny.
The move had exposed just enough of Danny’s silky-soft skin to be tempting, and Mace wanted to touch it. Would never get enough of the feel of Danny’s warmth and color and light under his fingertips, pressed against his body, filling his heart. He wondered if he could convince Danny to delay heading over to their new place for a few extra minutes while he took advantage of the moment.
Danny’s cheeks turned Mace’s favorite shade of pink, but then he turned back to what he’d been doing, arching up onto his toes to reach the cookie jar. “I thought this was empty,” he said once he finally managed to pull the colorful canister down. “What did you put in here?”
He shook it, frowning a little at the clunky rattling sound.
Mace’s pulse spiked, adrenaline shooting through him. The cash he’d been saving for so long had always been intended to get him a better life, but the best thing to happen to him had turned out to be something that money couldn’t buy. He’d put some of his savings toward their new apartment and Gavin had finally convinced him to put the rest in the bank, but that meant that for the last month—as Danny knew—the cookie jar had been empty.
Well, mostly empty.
Mace actually had managed to think of one more thing that would make his life better. Danny wasn’t supposed to know about that, though.
At least, not yet.
Mace lunged for the cookie jar, but it was too late. Danny had already taken the top off.
He looked inside, then froze, his eyes going wide. Then—
“Oh my God,” he tried to say, his mouth moving to form the words even though no sound came out. Color and something that looked a lot like joy flooded his cheeks when he dragged his eyes away from what he’d found and finally looked up. His eyes were more blue than green today—the color of a forget-me-not, the flower that symbolized true love—and when Mace saw every single thing he wanted reflected back in them, he knew for sure that the future was going to be every bit as good as he’d started to let himself hope.
The adrenaline flooding his body transformed into something else. Something wonderful and exciting and filled with a deep certainty that he had no doubt that, this time, it was safe to believe in. Danny was without a doubt the most beautiful thing Mace had ever seen, and when he fished the little box he’d found out of the cookie jar and popped it open, his smile as radiant as the sun, Mace realized he’d been wrong.
The future wasn’t going to be as good as he’d hoped. Every single day with this man by his side was going to be even better than the one before.
Forever.
“Mace, um, what is this?” Danny asked, the glow that emanated from him telling Mace that he already knew. Danny’s beautiful eyes sparkled as brightly as the ring he’d just found.
“Ranunculus,” Mace said, pointing. I am dazzled by your charms. “Heliotrope.” Devotion. “Roses.” I love you.
He’d had it engraved with a subtle, winding pattern, the distinctive shapes of petals and leaves symbolizing the words of his heart, spelled out in the language of flowers.
“Is this for me?” Danny asked, his voice breathless and happy and filled with everything Mace had never dared hope for before Danny had filled his life with beauty. With color. With love.
Mace cleared his throat. He could feel himself blushing now, too, and he knew that no matter how much promise the future held, the ring was still too much, too soon.
He plucked the box out of Danny’s hands, tucking it back into the cookie jar and tracing the word Danny had written on the outside, using it as his answer.
“Someday, Danny, I’m going to ask you—”
An excited squeal cut him off, and Mace found himself grinning, his heart swelling so large that his chest… the kitchen… the entire empty apartment couldn’t contain it.
Danny clapped his hands over his mouth, laughing. “Oh my God,” he gushed, practically vibrating with joy. “If you do, Mace…”
“When,” Mace corrected him, sure of it. He set the cookie jar aside and wrapped his arms around Danny, pulling him close, heartbeat to heartbeat. “When I ask you.”
“Okay,” Danny said, smiling up at him. Beaming. As bright as the sun. “When you ask me. Um, someday? Just so you know, I’m going to say yes.”
And then Danny wrapped his arms around Mace’s neck and went up on his toes and kissed him, tasting of everything Mace hadn’t thought he would ever have. Things he wasn’t sure he deserved, but that he’d hold on to, protect and cherish, forever. Things he didn’t even have to wait for “someday” to have, because with Danny in his arms, his life was already better.
“I love you,” Danny whispered, smiling with his entire body.
No, not just better.
Right now? Everything was perfect.
❦
Delicious
From the back cover
“You’re exactly what I never knew I needed.”
“I don’t have time for love.”
Gavin Campbell has poured everything he has into starting up his bakery, Delicious. Its success has given him a sense of security that was sorely lacking in his childhood, and even if working round-the-clock hasn’t left him any time for a personal life, you can’t have it all, right?
“Maybe I just need something delicious in my life.”
Outgoing, successful, and with an ass to die for, Ben Edwards is everything a girl could want… and yet none of his exes have managed to tie him down. He knows the fault isn’t with them, though. No matter how great the girl, Ben just doesn’t seem wired to fall in love.
“I want to be the one who takes care of you.”
When an accident leaves Gavin unable to work, Ben steps in to help, inviting Gavin into his home, his life and, eventually, into his heart. Despite homophobic relatives, a jealous ex-boyfriend, and more sweet temptation than either man was prepared for, they’ll each discover that just because they didn’t know something was missing, doesn’t mean it can’t still be found.
Delicious is a gay romance novel of approximately 62,000 words containing two morning people, one broken bone, lots of baked goods, and just enough jealousy to get a certain sexy banker to finally realize the truth.
For Mychal, for everything
1
Ben
“Are you seriously getting up already?” Megan asked, raising the edge of her diva-esque sleep mask just high enough to give Ben a disbelieving look as he tried to ease out of bed. “It’s still dark out,” she mumbled, rolling away from him and taking the blankets with her.
The delicate snore that followed her complaint told him she wasn’t waiting for an answer, and his lip quirked up as he fumbled for his running gear in the dim room. Meg had never been a morning person, and on the other rare occasions when she slept over, she’d never failed to grumble about his predawn runs. Ben would like to think it was one of the reasons their relationship had always stayed casual, but he suspected that if there had been more chemistry between them, something as simple as not waking up early together wouldn’t have held him back. Now that he was pushing thirty, he liked the idea of having a more serious relationship… he just couldn’t see himself doing it with Meg.
And, if he were being honest, finding out that she’d accepted a promotion that was going to require her to move out of town had left him feeling only relief. Despite their two years together, Meg had been under no illusions about the nature of their relationship either, so sharing her news with him had been—thankfully—devoid of any drama. In fact, Ben would have been happy to leave it at wishing her well and officially calling it quits right then, but when she’d offered to come over the night before for a “proper goodbye” he hadn’t wanted to sound like an asshole and say no. The sex was nice enough, and he saw no reason to end things on bad terms.
Ben flipped
on the lights in the kitchen, glancing at the time on the microwave as he downed a glass of water. He normally liked to be back from his run by 6:00 a.m. so that he could get to the bank by seven, but after staying up late with Meg the night before, he’d hit the snooze button twice and now was running a little behind schedule. He thought briefly about ditching his normal 5k around Woodward Park in favor of a shorter route, but almost immediately decided against it. He’d just have to pick up his pace. It wouldn’t hurt to push himself a little, especially with the Pink Ribbon Mother’s Day 10k he’d organized for the bank coming up in a few weeks.
He grabbed an energy bar—reminding himself yet again that it didn’t matter if it tasted like cardboard, it was fuel—and popped his phone into the armband he’d strapped on before he’d left the bedroom. It started vibrating against his arm before he made it to the front door.
Still in bed, sleepyhead?
Ben’s lip quirked up as he read his sister’s text. His brain insisted on hearing it in the same teasingly-impatient tone of voice that she’d used to get him up all through his high-school years, before the early hour had become second nature to him. Hannah may have been a few years younger than he was, but Ben had definitely “inherited” his running addiction from his overly-energetic little sister.
Now that she’d started a family of her own, Hannah’s running schedule had become a little more sporadic. Ben never knew whether they’d cross paths on one of his regular routes or not, but he was a creature of habit, and his sister always knew where to find him when she could make the time.
And any time she did, she made sure to act like he’d been the one to keep her waiting. Brat.
Ben smiled as he tapped out a quick reply to let her know he was on his way. He yanked open the coat closet to find his running shoes, refusing to be irritated by the fact that Meg had dumped her purse and shoes by the front door the night before—as usual—instead of taking the extra thirty seconds to put them on the shoe rack he kept in there. Little things just weren’t worth getting that worked up about, in his opinion. After all, relationships were generally about compromise, weren’t they?
Hannah and their brother, Will, may have liked to tease Ben about “settling,” but he liked to think of his approach to dating as just being practical. It wasn’t like two people could be expected to be compatible in every way, regardless of how wonderful his siblings each claimed their own significant others were.
The truth was, Ben had never met anyone who inspired the kind of excitement and devotion that his brother and sister had both found, and he’d come to the conclusion that it just wasn’t in the cards for him. The women he’d dated over the years had all been lovely. His relationships always ended amicably and he remained genuine friends with his exes, but he just didn’t seem to be wired for love.
Which was fine, really.
He had an amazing family, good friends, and he got enough satisfaction from the never-ending community relations projects he organized for the small bank that his grandfather had founded to keep his calendar more than full.
If anything was still lacking in his life, he managed to stay busy enough to avoid thinking about it.
Much.
Hannah waved from the other side of the parking lot as Ben pulled into a spot near the head of the trail. Somehow she managed to do it while simultaneously keeping her balance in a hamstring stretch, tapping her wrist impatiently—as if anyone actually wore a watch anymore—and talking into the phone she had wedged between her shoulder and jaw. Motherhood had made her a master of multitasking.
Ben waved back, but ignored her impatient finger pointing toward the trail as he detoured to hand the bag of breakfast sandwiches he’d picked up on the way over to Ernie, the homeless vet who considered the forty-five acres of Woodward Park his own. Ben suspected that the man had memorized his schedule, and it was just another reason he refused to miss his morning runs. He grinned as the grizzled vet nodded his thanks and disappeared into the azaleas that bloomed near the trailhead. His stealth had no doubt served him well in the military, but it worked just as well to dodge the overzealous ladies of the local neighborhood association who worked to “protect” the atmosphere of Woodward Park by keeping people like Ernie out.
“I could have done the trail twice already by now,” Hannah grumbled, swatting his hand away when Ben finally made his way over to her and ruffled her hair.
“If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have hit snooze, Brat.”
She rolled her eyes. “Even I didn’t know I was coming until about an hour ago. A server crashed, so Jack unexpectedly got the day off and volunteered for morning diaper duty.”
“And how is my favorite girl this morning?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, managing to hold a straight face for a full second before grinning back at him. “And your niece is fine, too. Gwennie was still sleeping when I left, actually. I think it’s a father-daughter conspiracy. If Jack had gone into work today, you know she would have already been up and demanding her morning bottle by this hour.”
Ben laughed. His little sister amazed him, and despite the purple shadows under her eyes, motherhood suited her more than he’d ever have expected, given her type-A personality. It had softened her, even if it hadn’t slowed her down. Speaking of which—
“Did you get my message about Mr. and Mrs. Schuster?”
Hannah huffed out an exasperated breath, shoving her bangs out of her face as Ben finished his own stretching.
“I did,” she answered as they started running down the trail. “Followed by three from Dad.”
Ben’s lips tightened for a moment before he answered. As much as he loved his father, working with the man—for him, since, as bank president, he was technically Ben’s boss—was sometimes trying. Andrew Edwards seemed to base most decisions on whether or not they upheld the “traditional values” of the bank that had been in their family for four generations, but as far as Ben was concerned, that was just Dad-speak for refusing to grow and change with the world around them. The man was conservative—in the least flattering interpretation of that word—and Ben’s attempts to push the bank towards a more inclusive version of community involvement were always causing the two of them to butt heads.
“What did he say?” he asked, gritting his teeth.
“What did he ‘say,’ or what did he mean?” She laughed ruefully. “Because I think the gist of it was that he didn’t like that you allowed the Schusters to stay in the bank after hours.”
Hannah easily kept up with him as his irritation made him pick up his pace.
“We weren’t done going over their options by five,” Ben said.
“And if I read between the lines, he thinks that was my fault. I’m the one who left early to pick Gwennie up from daycare,” she said with a grimace. “You know dealing with investment accounts isn’t your job.”
“Keeping our customers happy is my job. If he doesn’t like the way I go about doing that, he needs to talk to me about it, not take it out on you.”
“That would require him to speak frankly,” she said with a rueful laugh. “And why bother with that when he can avoid confrontation and leave it to the rest of us to figure out what he really thinks?”
“It would be less grating if he would just say what he meant,” Ben muttered.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “And if nothing else, at least it would allow us to call him on it when it’s bullshit.”
They rounded a curve in the trail. Two female joggers were approaching, and Ben automatically replaced his frown with a cheerful smile, subtly shifting to the edge of the path to give them a wide berth. He suspected that running next to Hannah already made him seem less intimidating, but the habit of trying to appear nonthreatening was so ingrained that he didn’t even think about it. Despite a certain leanness from his years of running, at 6’5” he knew that his size—combined with the early-morning solitude of the running path—could make women running the trail alone nervous about his
presence. Ben had always been hyperaware of the effect—probably due in part to his protectiveness toward his own sister—and he did his best to mitigate it whenever possible.
Hannah shot him a look, and when she saw the smile he’d directed at the other runners, she grinned.
“You’re allowed to turn and check out the rear view,” she said, winking. “Or are you and Meg going to try to keep it going long distance after she moves?”
“God, no,” Ben said a little too adamantly, making Hannah laugh. “Not, of course, that anything would be wrong with that. But there’s really no point.”
Her teasing look softened, and Ben braced himself as he saw the slightly-pitying look she gave him. It was the same one she gave him every time she harped on his relationship status. His sister was a hopeless romantic, and he had yet to date anyone who met the standards she seemed determined to hold him to.
“Well if Meg is officially out of the picture, maybe we should turn around and follow those two,” she said. “Those smiles on their faces were clearly not meant for me.”
“Not interested,” Ben said, meaning it. He just… wasn’t.
“Come on,” she said, bumping him with her shoulder without breaking stride. “Even I could tell they were hot.”
“Sure,” he agreed. “But I can appreciate that someone is good looking without wanting to jump them.”
She snorted.
“Jesus, Hann,” he said, laughing. “Meg is back at my place right now, still sleeping in my bed. Can you at least wait until she leaves town before you start trying to set me up again?”
“Does that mean I have permission to do so as soon as she moves? Because I noticed that you picked some seriously good-looking customers for the new promotional campaign…”
Ben laughed again, shaking his head. If all the bank customers he’d targeted as “models” for their upcoming community checking campaign said yes, their faces would be plastered all over flyers, ads, and promotional posters. So yes, he had picked photogenic people, but that hadn’t been the only factor. He’d also made sure to select a cross-section of business and individual customers that he hoped would showcase the “community” aspect of their community bank. As far as Ben was concerned, emphasizing that—and backing it up with real community involvement—was the only way they stood a chance of competing with the big banks that had swallowed up almost all the privately owned ones in Tulsa over the last few years.
The Delicious Series: The First Volume Page 23