by Helena Stone
“I’ll be there,” I said, torn between relief that I wouldn’t have to talk about myself anymore and regret that our time together had already ended.
“Fantastic.” The expression on his face suggested he meant what he said. “I’ll see you then.”
I watched him as he walked toward the bar where he paid his bill before turning to give me a wave and leaving the bistro. He really was everything I used to look for in a man, everything I imagined I would still want, if I ever found the courage to put my heart on the line again.
As I too got up to leave, I forced the thought away. It didn’t serve any purpose, except to push me back into the misery I’d mostly managed to suppress this month. Ben thought he’d found the perfect man for him; it was my job to help him take the next step.
All my rationalizing didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat when I discovered he’d paid for my lunch as well as his own before he left.
Chapter Five
February fourteenth arrived too soon for me. Much to my surprise, I’d come to enjoy helping not only Ben but also the multitude of other customers find the perfect gifts for their partners. But, as much as Claire’s intervention, combined with Ben’s pleasant company, had pulled me out of my aversion for St. Valentine’s Day, I still couldn’t bring myself to face the event full on. Taking the day off, as I had done the previous year, had seemed like a logical and sensible decision. Especially since at least part of my rediscovered enthusiasm for the day had been due to the fact that I’d enjoyed spending time with Ben. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t just attracted to the man. No, fool that I was and would, most likely, always be, I’d allowed myself to start falling for him. And while I was proud that I’d probably helped him find the perfect presents for the object of his crush—even if I still didn’t know what he’d bought in the end—I couldn’t help regretting that they weren’t for me.
The last time I’d seen him had been two days previously. I had been sure he’d make up his mind that day, but he’d once again walked away empty-handed. Claire told me she hadn’t sold him anything either, and a nasty voice in the back of my head tried to tell me that he’d used me to get information, only to get whatever presents he’d picked elsewhere. Given his job, online seemed like a logical conclusion. I didn’t want to believe that; Ben hadn’t come across as the sort of person who would use others, but I couldn’t be sure. After all, no matter how attracted I was to him, I didn’t really know him. And past experience had told me that I wasn’t the best judge of character.
As my mood dropped, I tried to come up with something I could do to distract myself. I’d spent the day keeping myself busy. My house had been cleaned to within an inch of its life, my private administration had been dealt with and filed away, and my fridge and cupboards were filled with everything I could possibly need for the next week, if not longer. I was all out of busy work, and I was restless.
In another two hours, Claire would close the shop and Valentine’s Day would be over for another year. The thought, which in the past would have brought me peace, now came with a tinge of sadness. After today, Ben wouldn’t have a reason to visit the shop anymore. His quest would no doubt end that night, and I might never discover whether or not he’d been successful.
The shrill sound of my phone ringing pulled me out of my ever more depressing thoughts. I checked the screen before answering and was surprised to see the name Spoilt for Choice displayed.
“Claire? Why are you calling me? Is everything all right?”
“Ty, I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you please come in? I know it’s inconvenient, but I really need you to be here.”
“What’s wrong?” I scrambled to come up with reasons why she might be calling. She was experienced enough to deal with just about any situation without needing me. The fact that she felt she did was enough to make my heartbeat speed up and my palms turn sweaty.
“I don’t want to explain over the phone.” She didn’t sound anything like her calm and collected self, which only added to my concerns. “Just come in. Please?”
I got up from the couch, still pressing the phone to my ear. “Of course. I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
My worries gave me wings and reduced a normally twenty-minute long walk into a fourteen-minute half-run. Out of breath and much warmer than the weather warranted, I burst into my shop only to come to an abrupt halt instantly when I found myself face to face with about twenty more or less familiar faces. Whatever I’d expected, it hadn’t been a feast for our more regular customers.
What the fuck?
“Ty! Thank you for coming.” Claire walked toward me with a huge grin on her face, carrying a tray filled with slim glasses containing a bubbling almost transparent liquid. Champagne? She called me in to give me …
On automatic pilot, I accepted one of the glasses. My breathing slowed down, and the panic eased as I slowly came to the conclusion that far from walking into a disaster, I had apparently been invited to a party.
“Care to explain this?” I growled the words as I indicated the people surrounding us with a wave of my hand.
“Don’t take it out on her, Ty. This was all my idea.”
The hair on the back on my neck stood on end when I recognized his voice. “Ben?”
He appeared from my small office space, an uncertain smile playing on his lips.
“What’s going on?” My heartbeat sped up again, going even faster than it had done while I’d been rushing to get there.
“I …” He took my hand. “Maybe I should show you. Come.”
Thoroughly confused, I allowed him to lead me through the assembled crowd, who parted to let us pass. I wanted to ask him what the hell the story was, but the words wouldn’t come, and my mouth refused to move.
He stopped walking when we reached the glass-plated counter and glanced at me. I just stared at the three wrapped presents next to the till.
“Why am I here?” I turned to Ben. “Did you want me to be present when your mystery man opens his gifts?” I pushed out a laugh, but even to my own ears, it didn’t sound happy. “That’s not required, you know. I just advise my customers; there’s no obligation to let me know whether or not the recipient likes the presents.”
Ben’s face was serious as he regarded me. “Yes. I do want you here for this. And I do want you to know what’s inside those packages.” His expression changed, turning into a tentative smile. “I needed you here for this moment because I want you to open them.”
“You… What? Why?”
“They’re for you, Ty. They were always for you.”
I tried to connect the dots, to make sense of what he said, but my head might as well have been empty. “But what about your mystery man?”
He chuckled. “Don’t you get it?”
I said nothing, just stared at him like the fool I was.
“It’s you, Ty. It was always you.”
I scrambled to understand what I was hearing. Me? He’s been admiring me? How? Since when?
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Claire’s voice broke through the fog in my mind. “Will you just open the freaking presents already? I’ve been waiting for over a month to see this.”
I took a moment to glare at her before taking the last step separating me from the gifts, reaching for the large square package first.
My fingers were clumsy as I carefully peeled the tape away from the red wrapping paper. I tried to figure out what I might find, convinced that I sold nothing in my shop that had these dimensions. I was right. When I at last revealed the contents, it turned out to be a gorgeous coffee table book, containing photos by a famous photographer who specialized in semi-erotic shots of gorgeous and very sexy men, in all shapes and sizes.
“Wow.” The exclamation escaped without warning.
“You like it?” Ben asked, suddenly sounding uncertain. “You told me buying something I would like to receive was a good strategy. I adore his images.”
The second present turned out to be a set of tumblers accompanied by a bottle of Bushmills’ ten-year-old single malt whiskey. I laughed out loud, partly to disguise the delight this present brought me. “You’ve been paying attention then.”
“To every single word you said,” Ben responded seriously, taking my breath away.
By the time I reached for the third and last present, my heart soared. I opened it and stared at the DVD I uncovered. Calamity Jane? I glanced at Ben, looked back at the picture on the box, and turned to Ben again as understanding dawned. I could almost hear the tune, and the words sang in my mind, as if I’d heard them only hours earlier. “Once I had a secret love …” Me. It had really been me.
Because I suddenly appeared to have lost my voice, I opened the envelope next. The card I extracted was one I knew for a fact we didn’t sell. It wasn’t even a card, in the strictest sense of the word, since it was just one piece of fortified paper and didn’t fold open. It didn’t portray an image either; no hearts, or bears, or roses. All I saw were six words: I want to be with Valentine.
My eyes burned when I managed to tear them away from the obviously homemade greeting. “And I want to be your Valentine.”
Ben beamed a smile at me so bright I feared it might blind me. Then he took both my hands in his, pulled me closer, and pressed his lips against mine.
The connection was perfection. Three years of pain and frustration melted away. Pieces of my heart, that had been shattered and floating disconnected in my chest, found each other again. This moment was everything I hadn’t allowed myself to dream about and yet so much better than I could ever have imagined. I pressed closer to him, yearning for more. I’d forgotten what it was like to feel the press of soft lips against mine. Ben smelled familiar, masculine, but also unique. I couldn’t wait to discover more, to unwrap the rest of the magnificent man who’d just gifted himself to me. I accepted his offering whole-heartedly and wanted nothing more than to offer myself to him in return.
I’m not sure what would have happened next if it hadn’t been for the cat calls and whistling coming from the small crowd I’d completely forgotten was surrounding us. I reluctantly broke the kiss, and the expression on Ben’s face told me he wasn’t much happier about ending it.
“Halle-freaking-luyah.” Claire grinned from ear to ear as she rushed toward me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “You two have been killing me for the past four weeks.” She calmed down. “But, now that I’ve seen this …” She waved her hand to indicate both Ben and me. “All I can say is that this moment makes having to watch you two dance around each other well worth it.
“You …” I shook my head.
“I know.” Her expression turned serious. “It wasn’t my place, and it could have gone horribly wrong, but when he”—she nodded in Ben’s direction—“came here and started asking questions about you, I couldn’t stop myself.”
I’d known for a long time that Claire was far more than just an employee, but obviously, I had underestimated how good a friend she really was. “Thank you; it wasn’t your place or your decision, but thank you.”
Chapter Six
Two hours later, we managed to extract ourselves from the festivities. I didn’t even feel remotely guilty about leaving Claire to deal with the necessary clean up. Considering that she’d set the whole affair up, it seemed only fair to make her deal with the aftermath too. While I would forever be grateful for her interference, that didn’t change the fact that she had taken quite a few liberties that could have seriously backfired.
As if by unspoken agreement, Ben accompanied me to my house, neither of us talking as we walked hand in hand along the dark streets. I’d taken the same route at least six times a week over the past six years, but the journey had never felt as right as it did that night, not even during the times I’d still been accompanied by Henry.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen after I closed my front door behind us, but it hadn’t been the sudden nervous tension making both of us act like shy teenagers.
“How about I pour us both a whiskey?” I pointed at the canvas bag I’d used to carry his gifts home with me. “After all, I’ve got both the drink and the glasses right here.”
“Wouldn’t you rather keep it for a special occasion?” Ben asked.
“Trust me; occasions don’t come much more special than this.”
I didn’t wait for his reaction and led the way into my living room where I opened the bag and extracted my precious gifts, placing the book in the middle of my coffee table and the tumblers beside it. After I’d displayed the card and DVD on my mantle piece, I opened the bottle of whiskey and poured both of us a generous helping. “Do you want ice or water?”
“Not for me,” Ben said, his gaze fixed on the shelf above my open fire while a smile lit up his face. “It’d be a shame to dilute the whiskey.”
I handed him his glass and waited until he took a seat on my couch before sitting next to him, leaving only a few inches of space between us. I brought the glass to my face and inhaled the fruity and spicy aroma. It tasted even better—soft, with hints of chocolate and pepper. I savored the taste as I marveled at the situation I found myself in, still not entirely sure how it had all happened.
“So,” I asked because I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. “Am I to understand that you walked into my shop while I wasn’t there and interrogated Claire about me?”
The blush spreading across Ben’s cheeks gave his always handsome features a cute glow. “Something like that.” He leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss, before continuing. “I’d seen you a few times as I walked past your shop on my way to my office. Then, in January, you suddenly weren’t there anymore, so I walked in, gathered my courage, and asked her where you were.” He laughed. “I even pretended that I thought I’d recognized you, in the hope I wouldn’t be too obvious, but your Claire wasn’t born yesterday and saw right through me.”
“How much…”
“How much did she tell me about you?” Ben grabbed my hand in his and placed both of them on his solid thigh. “Not as much as I wanted her to.” He squeezed my fingers. “She did confirm that you were gay and added that you’d been let down very harshly in the past and would need careful handling, unless I wanted to scare you off. She suggested the approach I ended up taking.”
A small part of me still resisted sharing my history with him, but I pushed it aside. If I was sure about one thing, it was that Ben not only deserved my honesty, it was also the only way to go if I wanted this to be about more than him giving me presents.
“Three years ago today,” I began, “my then partner, who I had been with for years and who I was about to propose to, told me he was leaving. I wasn’t what he wanted. He said I was too needy, clingy, and …” I swallowed. Even after all this time, the words he’d thrown at me still hurt. “He told me that if he wanted to be with someone as feeble as I was, he’d hook up with a woman.”
“Is he bi?” Ben asked, not unreasonably.
“Not as far as I knew,” I answered honestly. “That only made his remark hurt more.”
“I bet,” he murmured. “The bastard.” He kissed me again, pressing his lips firmly against mine, his beard tickling my chin, as if he wanted to reassure me that there was nothing girly about either of us.
“I assume he could be described as a bear?”
“Well spotted, Sherlock.” I smirked, secretly delighted he’d paid enough attention to what little I’d revealed about myself to be able to draw that conclusion.
“Actually,” Ben said, suddenly looking somewhat bashful, “I have one more gift for you.” He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand, extracted a tiny wrapped gift, and held it out to me.
My hands shook for reasons I couldn’t name as I carefully removed the paper. I stared at the key ring with a tiny, brown
bear charm hanging from it. Glancing up, I saw Ben’s mouth making funny movements as if he found himself caught between smiling and nervous tension.
“I thought it was a shame you’d lost your love for bears.” He shrugged. “So I figured I’d get you a small one. A bit like a desensitization process. Start small and work your way up.”
For a heartbeat or two, I wasn’t sure how to react. Then I threw my head back and laughed. “Start small?” I hiccupped the words as soon as I caught my breath again. “Have you looked at yourself?”
Ben blinked before joining his deep and sonorous laughter with mine. When we both calmed down again, he reached for me and pulled me close. “A small bear to carry with you always,” he whispered in my ear. “And a big one for all other times … if you’ll have them.”
I could only think of one way to answer that question and turned my head before pressing my mouth against his, making my willingness and gratitude known through a long, deep, and scorching hot kiss.
Within minutes, just kissing wasn’t enough for me anymore, and I moved around until I straddled Ben’s legs. For three long years I’d told myself I didn’t need this intimacy, that I could happily live my life without it, and I’d almost managed to convince myself. Only in that moment did I realize how big a liar I was. Ben’s arms pulling me close, his lips against mine, and the heat of his body radiating through his clothes convinced me that I’d craved this closeness, even if I would have been the last person to admit as much.
Talking about clothes … “Stop me if I’m moving too fast, but I would really like to take this to the bedroom.” I had to force myself to look at him, afraid that I might be pushing too soon and too hard. I needn’t have worried.
A huge, lust-filled grin spread across Ben’s face. “Lead the way.”
