Author's Note: As blissful as the date at Montaldo's was, the night is not over! I have to admit, sometimes my heart pitter-patters as I take these two through this alternate universe I've created for them. After seeing the latest promo video for A Tale Of Three Letters, I think we'll be treated to lots of romance because nobody does romance better than Oliver and Shane!

As always, these are the extraordinary characters created by Martha Williamson and so skillfully brought to life by Eric Mabius and Kristin Booth.

Chapter 10

Oliver locked the door behind him and snapped on the small Tiffany lamp he kept on the drop-leaf demilune table in the foyer. His fingers traced the gentle swerves of the wood's grain. He and his grandfather spent many hours at this table. In those days, it could always be found set up in what he now used as his living room. Oliver's chess lessons began early in his youth. He spent a lot of time at his beloved grandparents' historic home. His father worked long hours at the post office, and his mother, well, his mother, was in and out. A lot. She always seemed to have someplace to go, something to do, and someone else to spend time with besides him. His grandfather could have certainly become a chess master had he played tournaments and competed at a more advanced level rather than only against postal friends and his young grandson. But chess tournaments were held on weekends, and that would have taken Chester away from his family, and family was everything to him.

Oliver smiled. His youth had been turbulent, but he reflected fondly on the constants in his life, the love and attention his grandparents lavished on him, and the faith that they carefully nurtured. Most of his Saturday nights were sleepovers at their house so he could attend church services with them the following morning. Grandmother always had his shirt pressed, his pants and jacket clean, while grandfather taught him to tie his tie. And Chester didn't just teach him one way to tie the knot. No, he taught him all the classics from a four-in-hand to a Windsor. He even taught him to tie a bow tie, which wasn't something he wore often, but it did come in handy for the annual postal Christmas ball. Chester had endless patience as Oliver's little fingers tied and retied the knots in his attempts for perfection.

His keys dropped into the bowl with a loud clang, followed by Oliver's heavy sigh. Tugging at his tie, he loosened it and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He removed his jacket, taking one last inhale of her scent, which had seeped into its fibers when he wrapped it around her shoulders earlier. Folding it in half, he hung it over the chair next to the table. In the living room, he poured himself a jigger of bourbon. He didn't often imbibe so late in the evening, but he was feeling both celebratory and contemplative.

The leather squeaked its opposition to his weight as he settled into his favorite chair. Setting the crystal tumbler on a coaster on the side table, he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. The stance was one he often took in prayer, a practice he would assuredly engage in later that evening. Yes, he had many thanks to give tonight.

After spending years praying and searching for someone to share his life with, Oliver realized that God had brought Shane into his life, not just for him to lead her back to her faith, but for him to have the person he could share his life with. There was still so much for them to discover about each other, but the idea of being devoted to her, of envisioning a future together, no longer made his mouth go dry or his heart constrict in panic. Instead, it filled him with the exhilarating anticipation of spending every single day with her. Shane McInerney was brilliant and kind, and she challenged him to look at different perspectives and ways of approaching the challenges of everyday life. And then there was her beauty. It sounded somewhat cliche, but she was, indeed, one of those people whose beauty emanated from within and radiated outwardly, making her simply captivating.

Tonight, when she invited him inside, he wrestled with the intense longing to take their relationship to a more intimate level. When he was alone, his resolve remained unwavering. He'd been down the road of serving his physical cravings first. Holly hadn't hidden her desires, and, at the time, he was vulnerable to the attention she showered on him. Now, in retrospect, he could see how he'd let himself down but, more importantly, let God down. He'd committed, even before he met Shane, that he wouldn't let that happen again.

But, when he was with Shane, it would be easy to let his body overrule his head. So far, he'd been able to reel himself in, but it was becoming more challenging every time they were together. He worried that his decision to refrain from a physical relationship might be a deal breaker for her. But then the rest of the evening unfolded as it did, with more than one surprise.

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"Would you like to come in for a nightcap, Oliver?" Shane asked breathily after a kiss that had taken his lips down the soft curve of her jaw to her neck.

"I would like that very much, but..." After their intense and passionate kisses, he knew that accepting her offer could lead to a complex and delicate situation filled with the potential for misunderstanding and hurt feelings. His hands caressed her arms until he held both of her hands firmly in his grip. "Could we spend some time on your swing? After all, it will soon be time to put it away for the winter."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly into his side. He set them into motion with a push of his foot.

"Shane, I..." There was the potential for so many things to go wrong with this conversation. He hesitated, carefully choosing each word. "I'm not sure how to approach this." He wrapped her tightly in his embrace.

The porch light cast an ethereal glow on her blonde hair, and she looked rather angelic. He slowly trailed his finger along the softness of her cheek, finally lifting her chin and raising her face to meet his. Cradling her face, he brought her closer and brushed his lips across hers.

"I've very much enjoyed our evening. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

Shane chuckled. "I think you mentioned it once or twice."

"I don't think I've ever enjoyed an evening as much as I have tonight. Thank you, Shane." It was the truth, but Oliver knew he was stalling, but his mind was still formulating the thoughts he wanted to express.

"It is I who should be thanking you, Oliver. I don't think I've ever had a boss take me to such a nice restaurant for dinner."

He caught her wink and played along. "Well, I don't know that I've ever had an employee who has made such an impact in such a short amount of time," he bantered. "I wanted to do something special to celebrate you." His face softened, and the playful sparkle in his eyes turned into a deep, intense stare as he leaned in closer. His fingers snaked through the softness of her hair, and he pulled her mouth to meet his. They met in an electrifying kiss that ignited a rush through Oliver's body, putting every nerve on high alert.

"It's been a wonderful week, Oliver," Shane whispered as they separated. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I will always be thankful for you bringing me to work with you."

"Me too." He felt Shane shiver under his arm. He rubbed her arm with his hand. "Are you cold?"

"It is getting a bit chilly," she burrowed further into his embrace.

"Would you like my jacket?" He had it off before he finished the question.

"Oliver, you'll freeze," she protested.

"Trust me. I am more than warm enough."

"This is silly. Let's go inside where it's warm."

"No, really, Shane. I'm fine."

"Oliver, are you okay?"

It didn't surprise him that Shane picked up on his disquiet. Her intuitiveness was a trait many people lacked, but he'd seen hers in action on several occasions.

"I think it would be best if I do not go inside your house at this late hour."

"It's okay, Oliver. The neighbors are probably all in bed by now, so they're not going to see a strange man entering my house at this late hour," she emphasized the last words.

"I'm not worried about your neighbors." He took a deep breath. "I am doing my best not to put either of us in a compromising position."

"Compromising position? You were in my house before dinner. What's the difference now?"

"Ahem, may I be honest with you?"

"I would expect nothing less from you, Oliver."

"As you have reminded me, we are in the twenty-first century, and I know, in this day and age, it is not uncommon for people who are...seeing each other...to progress their relationship at a much faster pace than what someone such as myself might consider."

Shane's brows furrowed, and Oliver's first reaction was to gently use his thumb to smooth the lines created between her eyes.

She reached for his hand, the warmth of her touch searing his skin as she brought his fingers to her soft lips. Her hands were slim and delicate, and though much smaller than his, they fit perfectly together like two pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle. Keeping his focus was becoming more difficult as she intertwined their fingers, and he had to turn away from her to gather himself.

Turning back, he continued, "What I'm trying to say is, I've been in relationships where physical desires have been given into early on in the dating period, and they ultimately did not end well." He wasn't just talking about Holly. There had been relationships in college, and the only thing that came from them was a lot of hurt and misunderstanding. "I don't want to run the risk of anything like that happening between us."

Her eyes darted back and forth, and he felt her grip tighten on his fingers.

He squeezed her hand back, hoping to provide some reassurance. "I don't want you to mistake my reluctance as...as...well, a lack of interest," he exhaled, and his worry melted away as he watched Shane's features soften. Her lips curled into a soft, gentle smile.

Her hand went to his chest, and she played with his tie, smoothing it before letting her hand rest on top of it. "Oliver," she held his gaze. "I don't think it's a secret that there is a powerful attraction between us. But it's not just physical. It's intellectual, it's emotional. Like you, I've also given in to physical attraction without regard to the emotional toll it could take. I regret that I didn't see sooner how that complicates a relationship and the impact it would have on my self-esteem."

Oliver kissed the crown of Shane's head, burying his face in her silky locks. "I want us to do this right, Shane."

"What are you saying, Oliver?" Shane's hand was still on his chest, and he was sure he would feel the weight of it long after they parted.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. "It means I'm falling in love with you, Shane." When they had taken their seats on the swing earlier, those words were not part of what Oliver had planned to say, and he certainly didn't expect them to tumble so freely from his lips. But it was something he'd been feeling for a while now, and, well, the timing felt right, and you have to trust the timing.

He watched Shane's mouth drop and her eyes grow wide, but they never left his. He smirked, enjoying the fact that he'd surprised Shane, and he imagined his declaration was certainly unexpected. He wove his fingers into her hair and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. He released her as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"What's wrong?" He waited, wondering if this had been too much of a shock. What if he was actually the one moving too fast for a change?

Her head shook. "Nothing, Oliver." She swept the tear away with a brush of her hand across her cheek. "Nothing at all." Her eyes pierced his, still glistening. "Does it help if I tell you I'm falling in love with you, too?"

Any residual tension Oliver felt melted away when Shane murmured those words. He tightened his grip on her, unable to contain his smile. "I am delighted to know that we are in concert, Shane."

#####

Shane was moving even slower than usual on a Saturday morning. Actually, floating slowly was a more accurate depiction. She finished concocting her latte, sipping it to taste for the right balance of vanilla, almond milk, and strong coffee, and carried it from her kitchen and then through her dining room, where they'd had dinner together earlier in the week. She finally settled in the living room where they'd danced to Billy Joel. She did a couple of their steps on her way to the couch. Spontaneous giggles erupted as she set down her latte and picked up the vase of yellow roses, burying her nose in them. The only thing sweeter than their scent was the memory of Oliver's words. "I'm following in love with you." Her heart slammed against her chest with the same force that Oliver's words had on her. Air whooshed from her lungs, and she struggled to draw it back in. It wasn't just the words; it was the way he said them. His voice was like a cashmere blanket draped over your shoulders, keeping you soft and warm.

Settling into the deep cushions of her couch, she pondered what to do next. She owed Becky a phone call updating her on how her first week in the DLO had gone. However, Shane knew Becky wouldn't restrict her questions just to the work of the DLO. No, Becky would want to know how she was managing being in such proximity to Oliver every day. She read Shane like a book, so she was sure her friend would pick up on even the slightest change in her voice. Becky had already been surprised when she opted to move to the DLO, so Shane could only imagine how she would react if she told her she was falling in love with Oliver, her boss, and that the feelings were mutual. She scrolled her contacts and opted to text Becky a quick update rather than get her on the phone.

Every moment of her conversation with Oliver from the night before would remain in her heart forever, and for now, that's where she wanted to keep it. A thrill coursed through her at the vivid recollection of Oliver's blue eyes growing dark and intense while his voice thickened as he spoke the words, "It means I'm falling in love with you." She had longed to hear those words for weeks, much sooner than she thought he was ready to say them. But then, the words flowed so freely from his lips, and the reality was so much better than she'd ever imagined possible.

After another sip of her latte, Shane flipped open her laptop and went to her email. She scrolled quickly, deleting the spam that promised better pricing on her car insurance or an irresistible work-from-home opportunity. She laughed at that. She would never exchange working side by side with Oliver every day so that she could work from home. There was an email from her mother. She highlighted it as a reminder to read it later. She was still riding the high from the night before and wasn't ready for whatever drama her mother likely had to share. Shane's stomach stirred when she saw she had a message on LinkedIn. She held her breath as she opened it.

Hi Shane, What a surprise to receive your connection request. If you work in the Dead Letter Office, you must work with my son, Oliver. He's been running that team for several years, and I know he sets high standards. You must be very good at what you do. I'm hoping that you're reaching out on his behalf. I know his aversion to technology, so I would never expect to hear from him through any social channels.

Your timing couldn't be more perfect. I was on the verge of deactivating my LinkedIn account as I have recently retired. Please pass on to my son that I've moved back to Colorado. It's been many years, but I would really like for us to reconnect. Considering the many letters I've written to him over the last fifteen years that have been returned unopened, I imagine he may still wish to avoid contact. But life is short, and I would really like us to be family again, so I'm not giving up. Please give him my number. 555-673-9981.

Shane read through the message several times, debating what to do with the information. Oliver had told her that his father kept him from his mother, so he, in turn, disconnected from his father. It was all so sad. She'd lost her father, but at least she still had her mother, even with the challenges she presented at times.

Oliver had no one. Knowing that his father had been reaching out to him over the years and that Oliver was ignoring his attempts at reconciliation made her both curious and a little angry. She would give anything to go back and reconcile the relationship with her father, but that was no longer possible. Joseph O'Toole was right. Life is short. Before she could let her hesitations take over, Shane dialed the number the senior O'Toole had given her.

Every ring quickened her heartbeat. She was just about to hang up when she heard him answer.

"Hello?"

"Mr. O'Toole?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"This is Shane McInerney. I work with your son Oliver at the Dead Letter Office."

"Is Oliver okay?"

"Oh yes, he's fine. I'm sorry if my message worried you."

"It's just been so long since I've heard from him. Did he ask you to contact me?"

Shane heard the hopefulness in his voice, and she hated that she had to tell him. "No, he didn't. I…Oliver doesn't know I've reached out to you." How could she phrase it without sounding like a stalker or giving away any information Oliver might not want to be shared? "I know you and Oliver haven't been in touch for a long time."

"No, we haven't. I've tried, but Oliver, well, Oliver can be stubborn."

Shane chuckled under her breath. Stubborn was a more than accurate descriptor of Oliver O'Toole. Shane quickly picked up that Joesphe O'Toole had the same kind voice that Oliver did. She wasn't quite sure what to say next and was a little taken aback when she finally put her words together. "Mr. O'Toole, would you like to meet for coffee?"

There was a long pause on the other end. Finally, he said, "Sure, that would be great."

Shane hung up the call, feeling as though she'd put herself in the middle of something that could either end really well or really poorly. She was running the risk of causing a massive rift between her and Oliver, but having experienced significant loss herself, she wanted Oliver to have a chance at gaining back some of what he'd lost.

#####

Oliver's fingers shook with every number he dialed. His pulse raced faster, and he was surprised at how the very thought of hearing Shane's voice sent him into an unexpected state of euphoria.

"Hello, Oliver." The brightness of her voice brought a smile to his face.

"I've been doing some pre-winter preparations around the house, and I thought it might be time to put your swing away for winter.

"Oh, Oliver. I'm not ready to do that. Can't we leave it up? The porch is covered, and I've been told that Denver has many nice days during the winter so that I could use it."

"Well, uh, I suppose it can wait. Are there any other tasks around your house where you might need some assistance?"

He heard Shane's chuckle. "I'm not sure, Oliver, but would you like to come over and check for yourself?"

"That would be wise. I'll be over shortly." He hung up and grabbed his toolbox should Shane actually have a chore he needed to tend to, but he really just wanted to spend time with her regardless of what they were doing.

Oliver wasted no time and arrived at Shane's doorstep within fifteen minutes. She greeted him in a pair of leg-accentuating jeans and a loose sweatshirt. Little golden wisps of hair escaped her ponytail and framed her face, which welcomed him with a radiant smile.

He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and drew her to him. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, the anticipation growing as their breaths mingled in the shared space between them. He leaned in, and they came together in a burst of passion and longing that he knew he was limited in satisfying. Their discussion the night before had sketched out a clear path for the direction they wanted to steer their relationship, and although he understood the necessity of proceeding cautiously, it didn't diminish his desire for Shane.

Oliver slowly pulled away, and though their lips parted, the sensation of their connection remained. A smile curled at the edges of his mouth, and it lingered as Shane's eyes fluttered open and found his. A shiver ran through him as Shane's fingers tickled the skin at the nape of his neck. If he had one wish, it would be to build a bubble around them, preserving the bliss of this moment.

They remained as they were, neither moving. "Good afternoon, Mr. O'Toole."

Oliver caught the glimmer in her eye and the sensual undertone in her voice as she called him by his "work name." In this brief exchange, she forever altered how he would hear her say his name.

He chuckled and replied, "And to you too, Ms. McInerney."

Moments later, they were settled snugly on the swing, swaying gently back and forth as Oliver softly pushed off with his foot. Their fingers entwined between them as Shane's head rested on Oliver's shoulder, her cheek finding comfort in the softness of his well-worn plaid shirt. Her fingers rested on his chest, steadily drumming in harmony with the beating of his heart.

"I think you're right, Ms. McInerney."

"About what, Mr. O'Toole?"

"I think the swing should remain on your porch."

"Thank you, Oliver." She brought her lips to his cheek for a brief kiss, her hand now resting over his heart.

His touch was tender as he covered her hand, gently stroking her fingers with this thumb. He felt her hand clench into a fist under his touch. "What's the matter, Shane."

"Oh, ah, nothing," she replied, her stutter saying more than her words.

Oliver looked down at her perfect features, noticing the cloud overtaking her eyes and the way her full lips were now pressed into a thin line. "Shane, I know better. What's wrong?"

"Oliver, I did something, and I think you might be upset with me."

Oliver's grip tightened around Shane's hand. He couldn't imagine what it was that Shane could have done to cause her so much worry. His voice grew soft. "Whatever it is, please tell me. I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as you are building it up to be."

Oliver grew more anxious as he watched tears pooling in Shane's eyes.

"I met your father today."