by Helena Stone
“These”—I indicated the three small display tables near the door—“all contain what I think of as very traditional but also somewhat unimaginative presents.” I stared at the boxes of Belgian chocolates, heart-shaped balloons, vases containing a variety of different silk flowers, and a wide selection of love-themed candy. They were the annual bestsellers. They were also as predictable as a gift could ever be.
“I’m not sure about these, to be honest.” Ben sounded almost apologetic. “Not that there’s anything wrong with them, of course.” The haste with which he added that sentence made me think he was afraid he might have offended me. “But …” he chuckled. “I’m hoping to impress the recipient. I don’t think any of these are going to achieve that.”
I snickered along with him, hoping he’d understand that I hadn’t been bothered by his assessment of these items at all. “Got you. You’re looking for something that will come across as personal, although you don’t know him well enough to actually buy something that’s ideally suited to him.”
Ben deflated somewhat. “That’s exactly what I want. But now that you’ve put it into words, I’m suddenly thinking I might be looking for the impossible.” He brightened again. “What about a teddy bear,” he asked. “Those are traditional and popular, aren’t they?” Hope shone from his eyes as he waited for me to reply, as if he was proud he’d figured one of the gift-giving secrets out all by himself. I was sorry to put a damper on his joy.
“That pretty much depends on the man you’re buying for. Some might find it too childish or girly. Others will appreciate it for the cute gift it is, and of course, there will be some who will make the comparison …”
He raised an eyebrow as if he knew exactly what I’d meant to say and wondered whether or not I had the courage to finish the sentence.
Flustered, I blurted out the first words that came to mind. “Personally, I used to love bears in all shapes and forms. These days, not so much.”
What the fuck is wrong with me? Pushing personal tastes and hang-ups on customers is not the way to seal a deal. Not to mention that I’d just revealed more about myself, to a man I didn’t know, than I usually showed to those who’d been in my life for years. I waited for the ground to open up and swallow me. Unfortunately, the shop floor didn’t cooperate.
Much to my relief, my remark appeared to go over Ben’s head. “I’d better pass on the bear too then. This is harder than I thought it would be. Is it even possible to buy a present that will leave a good impression for someone you don’t know?”
I took his statement as a personal challenge. “Nothing is impossible. It just means we’ll have to be imaginative. And, if I’m honest, that makes the process so much more interesting for me.” I wasn’t lying to make him feel better either. It could be dispiriting to observe how many people were perfectly happy to opt for the tried and trusted when they bought a present for someone who was special to them and, therefore, in my opinion at least, deserved a well-thought-out gift.
“Fair enough,” Ben said. “But how do you go about buying a personal gift for a person you don’t actually know well enough to be aware of their likes and dislikes?”
It was a good question and caused me to think for a few moments. “What you could do,” I started, carefully picking my way through the idea that had just occurred to me. “If you buy presents that appeal to you, or have something to do with your personal interests, it would tell the recipient about the kind of man you are. As if you were introducing yourself using gifts rather than words.”
Ben studied me, a small smile playing with his still delicious-looking lips. “Are you suggesting that I buy items that appeal to me in the hope that he might like them too?”
“Not exactly,” I answered. “Although doing so might give you an indication whether or not you two have anything in common.” I thought for a moment. “I assume he knows as little about you as you do about him?”
Ben nodded.
“In that case, you could aim to give him an idea of who you are through the presents you give him.”
Ben studied our surroundings. “You mean as in getting him a personalized golf ball, if I were into golf.”
“Exactly.” For reasons I didn’t explore, I fervently hoped he wasn’t into golf. “Are you?”
“Into golf? Not really. I enjoy watching it. But I can’t say I’ve enjoyed myself the few times I allowed friends to bring me out for a round of golf. I appreciate the nineteenth hole though.” He grinned.
“Same here,” I countered before I could think better of it. There was no need for him to know my likes and dislikes.
“My personal interests lean more toward reading and photography,” he continued speaking as if he’d completely missed my somewhat inappropriate statement.
This time, I managed to stop myself from saying “me too.”
“In that case, you want to look at these.” I steered him toward a display closer to the counter, which was filled with a selection of frames in various sizes and ranging from downright cheesy to unique and classy.
“That’s more like it.” He didn’t take his eyes off the selection in front of him as he spoke.
“Boss?” Claire pulled my attention away from Ben.
“Yes.”
“It’s almost half-past twelve. If I’m going to make that appointment I told you about, I need to leave now. I should be back in an hour.”
“Go for it,” I told her. “I’ll hold the fort until you return.
“Shit. Is it already that late?” Ben sounded disgusted. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to leave before I buy anything again. If I don’t go back now, my assistant will have my guts for garters.”
When he turned to me, I expected to read the distaste I’d heard in his voice on his features, but nothing was further from the truth; he all but beamed at me. “I guess that means I’ll have to come back for more advice.”
Against my wishes, my mouth stretched into a smile, which I feared betrayed the relief I experienced at the thought of seeing him again. “You know where to find us, and you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, Ty. You have no idea how much I appreciate the time you’re willing to invest in this, probably hopeless, project of mine.”
“You’re very welcome. It’s entirely my pleasure,” I said truthfully. “And don’t write your initiative off just yet,” I added. “I’m sure we’ll manage to come up with something perfectly suited to introducing yourself to this man of yours.”
Ben blinked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. As he made his way toward the exit, I wondered if I could figure out how to prolong his quest beyond only one more visit. For the first time since Henry left, I found myself enjoying the company of another, very attractive, man. I knew it wouldn’t last but wasn’t going to deny myself the pleasure, as long as it was available to me.
Chapter Four
I relaxed on the couch, fully enjoying the fact that I didn’t have to rush into work that Monday morning. No matter how much I loved both my shop and working there, I couldn’t deny it was nice that every other Monday I didn’t need to start working until one o’clock. I’d so far resisted opening the shop on Sundays, except in the run up to Christmas and the last weekends before Valentine’s Day and Easter, but that still kept me out of the house six days out of seven most weeks. Alternating Monday mornings off with Claire meant that both of us enjoyed something resembling a weekend once every fortnight.
I’d savored every bite of my fried breakfast earlier. It was something I almost never made time for when I had to leave for the shop, shortly after eight in the morning, and enjoyed lounging around before I’d take a leisurely shower, as soon as I finished my second cup of coffee.
January had turned into February almost without me noticing it. The previous two years, I’d wished away the days between the start of the new year and February 15th. This year, much to my surprise, I’d paid little to no attention to the calendar. And I had no doubt who I should be thanking for that
development. Ben and his quest for the perfect gifts for the man he admired from afar had not only managed to keep me on the shop floor, it had also reminded me why I used to love the upcoming holiday.
My thoughts lingered on Ben while I sipped my coffee, as they often did these days. He’d visited the shop four more times since the first time we’d discussed possible gifts. He continued to be interested, asking questions, and making suggestions, without ever making up his mind. I’d never encountered a customer who took as much time before coming to a decision as he appeared to need. Not that I had issues with that, mind. As far as I was concerned, he could wait until February 13th before choosing the perfect present. If it meant I’d get to enjoy his company in the meantime, he could be as indecisive as he wanted. He’d turned out to be the breath of fresh air I needed in my life, and one of these days, I had to remember to thank Claire for making me deal with him. The clumsy way in which she’d arranged it notwithstanding, she’d given me the kick up the backside I’d obviously needed.
I checked the time as I finished my coffee. I still had an hour or two before I needed to leave the house, and since I’d taken care of all chores on Sunday, I could fully enjoy the time. And that was a recent development too. It had been a few years since I’d been able to relax during this time of the year. While the tension had always been at its worst in the shop, it had never left me during my free time either. It was good to finally have reached the stage where the state of mind I took for granted from mid-February until the end of December was also present during the first six weeks of the year.
Ben … The man was never far from my mind. Part of it was that he was a carbon copy of what I pictured as my ideal man. But it was more than just a superficial attraction. I enjoyed spending time with him and couldn’t help but be impressed with the amount of effort he put toward finding the perfect present for a man he didn’t know, a man who might not be available or interested in him at all.
As I walked to my bedroom and got out of my bathrobe, I reflected on how much I’d come to enjoy the “will he, won’t he” game I played every day. Except for that first time, he didn’t announce when he would be visiting Spoilt for Choice. Some days, he’d just show up and others there’d be no sign of him. And while it always left me somewhat disappointed when noon came and went without him walking in, it usually didn’t take me more than about half an hour to get excited about the fact that he might make an appearance the following day.
As the hot water from the shower fell on my head and shoulders, I realized how little I actually knew about him, apart from his name, his wish to impress an unknown man, and the fact that he had to work somewhere not too far away from my shop. I’d always seen myself as someone who didn’t feel attraction for men unless I had taken the time to familiarize myself with their character as much as their appearance. With Ben, it had been different—a clear case of attraction at first sight.
I reached for my shower gel, another first. I’d been happy to buy myself the generic, supermarket brand until recently. That had changed the day before. As I’d done my weekly grocery shop, I’d indulged in something more expensive and luxurious.
I slowly washed myself, appreciating that this was one occasion when spending the extra money was actually worth it. The gel not only smelled wonderful, earthy and musky, it also felt amazing against my skin, waking up sensuous zones on my body which had been dormant for a very long time.
My dick filled, growing larger and stiffer. When my cleaning routine took me to my groin area, I indulged myself. For the first time in three years, I didn’t make fast work of my body’s demands. I took my time, stroking and pulling leisurely, enjoying the sensations as they coursed through my heating blood. I cupped my balls with my other hand, alternating between softly tugging and touching myself just behind them.
Fuck, this is good. It has been too long. I almost forgot why so much time had passed since I’d indulged in these pleasures. My need rose, making the movements of my hand more forceful. Resting my head against the wall and closing my eyes, I lost myself in the increasingly more pleasurable sensations until my balls tightened and I came … harder than I’d ever come from my own hand, images of Ben flashing through my head. Shit. I’m in so much trouble.
I waited until my breathing had returned to normal before turning off the shower. As I dried and dressed myself, I pondered that last thought I’d had as I came. Was my attraction to Ben really a problem, or should I embrace it as a good sign, proof that I was, at last, emerging from my endless-seeming period of being miserable? Not that the answer mattered. It wasn’t as if I could order myself to stop being drawn to him. And, on the up side, since Ben was obviously not available, I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was ready for a new attachment.
Convinced that delving into that particular conundrum would probably only bring my mood down, I decided to head for work early and treat myself to lunch in the bistro on my way in. I was too relieved to, at last, have found peace and something that looked suspiciously like happiness in my life again, to risk ruining the mood by navel staring for too long.
Entering the bistro at midday meant I beat the lunch rush by about an hour, and the place was almost empty. I picked a table well away from the entrance and ordered a BLT with a plate of chips and a pint of water. Whoever had occupied my spot before me had left a newspaper behind, and I read the headlines while I waited for my food to arrive.
“Excuse me. Is that chair taken?”
I knew who I would see before I raised my head; Ben’s beautiful deep voice was instantly recognizable.
“It wasn’t until you arrived.” I smiled up at him.
“Good.” He sat down. “This is a wonderful coincidence.” He smirked. “Do you come here often?”
“Cheesy much?” I joked while my mind worked overtime. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn he was flirting with me. I shrugged the idea off. For all I knew, he might be practicing his skills so he’d be ready when he came face to face with the object of his desires.
“Who? Me?” He grinned. “I haven’t got a cheesy bone in my body.”
“Really? Could have fooled me.” I winked, just in case he thought I was serious.
A waiter appeared with food for both of us. Ben had apparently ordered before he approached my table. After we’d both taken a few bites, he fixed his gaze on me again.
“I’m curious,” he said, “but feel free to tell me to F-off.”
I waited, not entirely comfortable.
“What does Ty stand for? I mean, it is short for something else, isn’t it?”
Ah, fuck. I considered telling him it was none of his business before acknowledging how childish that would be. “Valentine,” I mumbled. “But nobody calls me that anymore. I haven’t used the name for three years.”
I saw the curiosity in his eyes and waited for the inevitable next question, but, much to my relief, it never came. He just nodded and picked up his sandwich again.
“I walked by your shop just now and was disappointed you weren’t there,” he said a few bites later.
“You realize that my assistant manager, Claire, is just as qualified to help you as I am, don’t you?” I asked the question to hide the fact that I was delighted he’d come looking for me specifically.”
Ben picked up his glass of water and took a long drink before responding. “Yeah, I’m aware of that. I’m probably being ridiculous, but since I’m looking for a present for a man, I’m more comfortable dealing with you.”
I nodded, although the statement didn’t make a lot of sense to me. “So what did you want to ask?”
“Well, I’ve got a pretty good idea what I would and wouldn’t like to receive as a surprise present and wondered if it’s the same for you.” He grinned. “It would be so much easier if it turned out us men have universal likes and dislikes.”
“I’m sorry to squash your hopes,” I said, “but I doubt that’s the case.” I thought for a moment, wondering if answering h
onestly would reveal too much. “Personally, I’m not a fan of a lot of the romantic but utterly nonsense presents we sell. I’d rather receive something personal like a good book, or a more practical item like a picture frame or whiskey tumblers. And if anybody tried to give me a bear, I’d probably end up hitting them.”
“Ahhh, what have the poor bears ever done to deserve such a harsh rejection?” Ben’s tone of voice was light, but I couldn’t escape the feeling he wasn’t trying to be funny anymore.
“Let’s just say I’m inclined to keep my distance after one very bad experience.”
I fully expected a jokey response about exploding teddies or something like that and was shocked to find myself the subject of serious scrutiny. Shit. This is getting way too personal. It’s not supposed to be about me. “Then again, there are plenty of gay men who adore the lovey-dovey kitsch, so don’t take your cues from me.” Once again, I’d revealed much more than I’d planned to say.
Ben swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, stole a chip from my plate, then opened his mouth to speak again.
I cut him off before he could get a word out. “Like I said before, your best bet is probably to buy something you would like to receive. If nothing else, the way he reacts will give you the first clue as to whether or not the two of you might be compatible.” I desperately needed a change of subject. Any questions he might ask next would more than likely make this conversation about me rather than him again, and I had no intention of sharing my depressing history. “Now it’s my turn.” I forced a smile. “You must work or live around here too, so, what do you do?”
For a few long moments, Ben just stared at me. My stomach cramped around the food I’d just finished eating as I waited to see if he would run with the change of subject.
“I’m a graphic designer. I opened an office around the corner from your shop four months ago.” He glanced over my shoulder to the clock I knew to be hanging on the wall there. “And that reminds me. I’d better get back. My assistant only works mornings, and it’s already after the time he usually leaves.” He pushed back his chair. “Will you be available to help me again tomorrow at twelve?”
