Author's Note: I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I hope it's worth waiting for. As always, I am so thankful to Martha Williamson for creating these special characters and for the way Eric Mabius and Kristin Booth portray them.

Chapter 5

Oliver's disappointment carried him down the creaky steps of Shane's front porch. He felt as unsettled as the leaves that tossed and turned on the patchy blanket of grass in her yard. Impatient summer leaves fluttered down in an aimless dance to the ground while others clung to branches, waiting their turn to turn crimson and gold before being shed for winter. The Autumnal Equinox marked a shift in seasons, and this change in nature mirrored the changes he was feeling within himself.

Despite spending the better part of the afternoon trying to avoid her provocative glances, the temptation to touch her finally became unbearable. It was a simple touch, just his hand on hers. The earthy and floral scent of her perfume filled his senses, and his heart pounded erratically. Whenever he was in her presence, the feelings were visceral and overpowering, leaving him feeling a bit mystified. He had entered new and uncharted territory, a completely new experience for him.

With his growing attraction to Shane, Oliver made a conscious decision to maintain a professional distance between them while at work. The last thing he wanted to do was risk any behavior that could tarnish her reputation or stir up rumors among the gossipmongers of the USPS sorting floor. Their relationship was still in its beginning stages, and having colleagues unwittingly turn their involvement into a scandal could certainly derail any progress they were making.

Though he was confident about his desire to take their relationship to the next level, he was unsure about the pace at which it would happen. He'd been honest about needing time to heal from the aftermath of his marriage and divorce. And now, after hearing her explanation for the sudden transfer to Denver, he guessed she might need time for her own healing process. He shuddered at the thought of Shane wrapped in another man's arms. The phrase "the glamour of dating him" sent his insides churning like a washing machine fighting the weight of a heavy load.

Part of him regretted inquiring about her transfer. The truth of the situation completely altered his plans for the evening, leaving him unsure of what to do next. He felt as though he'd been thrown off course and couldn't figure out how to steer himself back on.

But he had asked her, and she had told him. When Shane first said Becky moved her to Denver to get out of a relationship, his first concern was that she might have been trapped in a dangerous relationship. There was almost relief when she said it had everything to do with his job. But the word "glamour" lingered in his mind, taunting him. He couldn't shake the feeling of inferiority that came with knowing that no matter his role with the USPS, it would never be perceived as glamorous.

###

Tuesday mornings were set aside for the department head meeting. Oliver had hoped to stop by the DLO before the meeting, if only to set his eyes on Shane. But that plan was sidelined when he realized he was running uncharacteristically late. His cherished morning Bible study time had gone longer than usual as he struggled to focus on the words he read. The previous evening's turn of events had left a weight on his heart, and he'd taken extra time to contemplate and pray for healing.

In his absence, Shane would be under the care and direction of Norman and Rita. Norman was going to train Shane on the different categories of dead letters and how each one was treated as it was put back through the system.

Following an insufferably long meeting in which the hottest topic was how to repaint the parking lot, he finally returned to the DLO to find the three of them hunched over the table in the middle of the room. "What do we have here?" he asked.

As Norman took a step back, he revealed a beat-up brown box that appeared to have endured numerous falls from a moving truck. "Look what they found in the terminal annex," Norman said quickly, his eyes bright and his voice jittery with excitement.

"What is it, Norman?"

"It's a box of lost dead letters."

Oliver couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "Oh, my goodness, how long do we think they've been lost?"

Shane tilted her head to the side and asked, "Excuse me, what does that mean? Lost dead letters?"

"It means they're dead letters that probably ended up on a shelf or in a storage space somewhere and long forgotten." Norman gently removed some of the dust that had accumulated on the box. "This box was found behind some old equipment they're clearing out."

Shane reached into the box and grabbed several of the envelopes, straining to read names and addresses.

"Ms. McInerney, please stop." Oliver's shrill voice punctuated the air.

Shane's fingers opened, and she dropped the envelopes back into the box, her mouth hanging open. Her face tensed, and she slowly rose to full height, standing ramrod straight as if a soldier at attention. The sound of his scolding disapproval echoed through the DLO. Even Norman and Rita jolted to attention. He immediately regretted his tone and softened it in an attempt to smooth over his error. "Ahem, what I mean to say is, given their age, we have to treat these very carefully. We don't know how delicate the paper is."

"I am sorry, Mr. O'Toole." The emphasis on Mr. O'Toole was not lost on Oliver. "I have not yet been trained on the handling of such old letters." Shane's voice was thick as she stepped aside. "By all means, please educate me on how to approach a situation such as this."

Oliver stepped aside from Shane, who glared at him with pursed lips and arms folded tightly across her body. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, realizing his blunder and knowing it would need to be rectified later, in private. Norman and Rita were standing nearby, making it impossible to address the issue. Oliver knew he needed to find a way to make things right with Shane, but for now, he had no choice but to endure her obvious frustration.

"Norman, can you please get the extraction kit?" Oliver bent over the box and peered inside. "Ms. McInerney, please come here, and I'll show you how we handle such delicate items."

Shane moved next to him, her arms still crossed and a grimace marring her perfect features. The alluring scent of her perfume drew him in. His hands shook, and he fumbled the tweezers. He heard her stifled giggle but didn't dare look in her direction, afraid that it would only add to his discombobulation. "Ahem, Ms. McInerney, in a case such as this, we must be cautious to disturb the contents as little as possible. We take one letter at a time. It can be rather time intensive, but it is a necessary part of our investigation." Oliver slowly drew an envelope from the box, holding it up briefly before placing it gently on the table in front of them. "Now, let's see what we have here."

The integrity of the envelope had decayed over time and was now a dull brown hue that suggested it could disintegrate at the slightest touch. Its surface was rippled, most likely damaged from some unknown water source. The frayed corners looked as though it had been handled one too many times. Whatever moisture had permeated the envelope smudged and blurred most of the address. Oliver strolled over to his desk and retrieved the antique magnifying glass he kept for situations such as this. Positioning the glass over the envelope, he peered through the lens with one eye while squinting the other.

"What do you see, Oliver? " Shane's softened voice settled his nerves. Her arms uncrossed, and she leaned into Oliver until their shoulders were touching. He imagined her curiosity was, thankfully, taking her mind off his earlier gaffe. Seeing how easily she could be drawn into the mystery of a missing letter was one of the first things that had drawn him to her. His heart warmed as he witnessed, once again, her interest in their work.

"It's difficult to determine the age of the letter based on the postmark. Whatever moisture blurred the address has also rendered the postmark indecipherable."

"Can't we just open it and see what's inside?" Shane asked, impatience tinging her voice.

Oliver did his best to temper his response, instead countering with a gentle smile. "Ms. McInerney, that is, of course, an option, but our priority is to gather clues from the envelope before opening a piece of mail intended for someone else." As he finished his explanation, the roll of her eyes did not go unnoticed. He could have taken it personally but knew it was likely in disagreement with his approach rather than disinterest. Usually, Oliver would be bothered by such a response, but from her, well, he knew she didn't do it as a negative reflection on him. It was more likely her eagerness to move faster through the process.

The afternoon wore on, and the team worked steadily on the letter. Given its fragile condition, Oliver wanted to monitor every step of the process. As Norman meticulously dropped beads of his ingenious revelation solution onto the envelope, the rest of the team watched in amazement as some of the numbers and letters from the address began to magically appear.

By the end of the day, Shane had spent several hours programming searches to fill in the missing parts of the addresses. However, the programs would continue running well into the night, so at this point, there was nothing more to be done until the following morning, when, hopefully, the searches would yield information to further their investigation.

Oliver sat at his desk, finishing the stack of papers he'd started working on the day before. He was lost in concentration and didn't notice that Norman and Rita were gone for the day. It was just him and Shane alone in the DLO. His heart raced and he felt a sense of déjà vu as he watched her from his desk. She was wearing a dress in his favorite color, blue, and earlier in the day, he'd noticed how it had hugged every dip and curve of her figure. Her hair cascaded gently around her face, and she pushed it out of her eyes with a quick sweep of her hand. Noticing her eyes fixed on the screen and how she bit her lower lip, he could tell she was in deep concentration. He felt an overwhelming urge to approach her and gently free her lip with his thumb. When he noticed her gathering her things, he quickly straightened his desk and walked over to her. Given his outburst earlier in the day, he felt a sudden rush of nervousness, like a schoolboy approaching his first crush. He asked, "Ms. McInerney, I wonder if you would join me for a drink this evening."

"I don't know, Mr. O'Toole. I'm a little tired." After spending the afternoon putting aside their earlier friction to work on their mysterious letter, her distant tone had returned with an added weariness to it.

Oliver waited, hoping to see her face break into even a hint of a smile to tell him she wasn't still harboring ill feelings toward him after his outburst earlier in the day. But it didn't come. He couldn't blame her. In fact, he knew deep down that he deserved it. Yet he persisted. "Oh, do you have other plans?"

"Nothing in particular," she said quietly, continuing to pack her bag.

The continued dullness in her voice settled over his heart like a heavy rock.

Undoubtedly, she still had feelings about how he'd snapped at her earlier in the day. One more try, he thought. "Shane." His use of her name stopped her midstream. "I want to apologize for my temperament earlier today. Something was bothering me, and I took it out on you."

Shane's figure slumped, and her breath came out in one long exhale. "All right, Oliver."

Oliver had hoped his words of repentance would soften him toward her, but the sound of her heavy sigh and half-hearted acceptance made him realize he hadn't fully succeeded. She was going to make him work for it, but rightfully so.

"Where do you want to go, Oliver?"

Ah, they were finally moving in the right direction. Oliver bounced on his toes, his voice brightening. "I was thinking I could meet you on your porch." He gave her a side glance, noticing her wrinkled brow. "You don't have to do anything. I will take care of everything." He did his best to stave off an excited smirk.

Her eyes lifted toward him. Had he roused her curiosity? An epiphany of sorts had struck him even as he was still trying to convince her to join him. He had things to say, and he knew it would be easier to articulate them in a private and secluded setting. And where better to find that than on her porch swing?

Oliver wasted no time leaving the office. After walking Shane to her car, he headed straight to Whole Foods in Cherry Creek. On the way there, he put together a shopping list in his head. Rushing through the aisles, he mentally checked off each item until he had everything he needed.

Pulling up in front of her little house, he saw her silhouette gently swaying back and forth on the swing. His chest tightened, and his limbs tingled with anticipation. The sun was making its descent on the horizon, and the gentle breeze that had been blowing all day had now turned into a crisp chill. He stopped at the top of the steps and saw her there. She'd changed into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater. She was wrapped in an intricately woven blue shawl, and he could only imagine how much bluer her eyes would look against the shawl's hue. He was struck yet again by how beautiful she looked, with the single porch light bringing just enough light to accentuate her blonde waves tousled by gentle gusts of wind. He found her captivating and would have stood there indefinitely, taking in every detail of her beauty, had she not turned to look at him. Her eyes grew wide when she saw his two grocery bags.

He set them down before asking. "I know I told you I would bring everything, but I wonder if you could provide some wine glasses, a corkscrew, and maybe a couple of small plates. Oh, and a fork."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at his final request. She rose, draping her shawl over the back of the swing. "Of course, I'll just be a moment."

While she retrieved the requested items, he quickly went to work. He had a bottle of Pinot Noir, an assortment of gourmet cheeses and crackers, and some grapes. A small candle flickered, casting a warm glow on the scene. A delicate bud vase held a single yellow rose, adding a touch of romance to the atmosphere. And, as the perfect finishing touch, a slice of decadent chocolate cake topped with a rich, dark chocolate ganache awaited Shane's fork. He heard the door and looked up, anxious to see her reaction to the al fresco feast he'd prepared for them.

She didn't disappoint. Her smile spread from ear to ear, and though the porch was dimly lit, he could see her eyes sparkle with delight. "Oliver, I don't know what to say. This is all very…unexpected."

He took the glasses and plates from her, motioning for her to sit. Making quick work of the wine cork, he poured the rich burgundy liquid into a glass and handed it to her. After pouring his own, he took a place next to her. He clinked his glass against hers, and they sat in silence for a moment, sipping the luxurious, velvety liquid. He dug deep to summon the courage to speak. "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I have been preoccupied with something that has been weighing heavily on my mind. Instead of talking to you about it, I let it affect my conduct toward you." He lifted his glass and tilted it toward her. "I am sorry, Shane."

Despite the dim light, he noticed a subtle shift in her facial expression. A sense of relief washed through him, and he was encouraged to continue. But first, they should eat. "Please, help yourself." He gestured toward the food. As they sipped their wine and ate, they chatted about the letter and what mystery might lie inside the envelope they'd worked on all afternoon.

"Oliver, I don't know how you can be so patient and not just rip into the envelope to see what's inside."

"Well, we take the decision to open an envelope and read its contents very seriously. Our prime directive is to infringe on the recipient's privacy as little as possible."

"You are a much more patient person than I am, Oliver."

"Perhaps I do not possess the same level of inquisitiveness as you do," he replied with a warm smile on his face.

Oliver noticed Shane wasn't eating very much. "Aren't you hungry? Do you not like it?"

An electrifying surge sent a shiver down Oliver's spine as Shane reached for his free hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "No, it's all perfect, Oliver." Her eyelashes fluttered delicately like the wings of a butterfly. "Absolutely perfect. I think this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

She picked up a grape and popped it in her mouth. Swallowing, a mischievous smirk crossed her lips. "I just see something I'd rather have," she said playfully, nodding her head towards the chocolate cake sitting on the table.

Oliver's cheeks continued to heat, and he was thankful it was dark enough that she couldn't see the color in them. With a regretful sigh, he reluctantly untangled their hands, picking up the cake and handing it to her with grand ceremony. "Ah, yes. Never fear. It is all for you, hence the one fork."

Oliver watched with amusement as Shane wasted no time digging into the gooey confection. She pulled the fork from her mouth, and her eyes closed as she savored the bite. His heart swelled as her face lit up with pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Shane's lips curved as she gazed at him with a playful glint in her eyes. She delicately wiped away a smear of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. She offered him the plate. "Would you like a bite?"

Oliver shook his head.

"What's the matter, Oliver? Don't you like chocolate?"

"It's not that I don't like it, but I prefer lemon."

"That is good information for me to remember, Oliver." Shane smiled. "So, Oliver."

"Yes?"

"If I may be so bold."

Oliver chuckled. "I would expect nothing less."

"You said something was weighing heavy on your mind earlier today. Do you want to talk about it?"

Shane always seemed to have a way of getting straight to the heart of the matter. At the same time, he felt a sense of relief that she had initiated the conversation.

"Ahem," he hesitated. He looked around nervously and tugged on his tie, which was still cinched tightly around his neck.

Shane set down her cake and reached out to Oliver. Her hand was warm and steady. She grasped his firmly, just as he had done the night before when she had opened up to him about her past. He felt her reassuring grip and held on tightly as he began to speak.

"Shane, last night didn't unfold the way I'd hoped it would." He shifted his body weight, moving slightly closer to Shane. "I must admit, when I heard the reason behind your sudden transfer, I was caught by surprise."

"Oliver, I…"

"Please let me finish." He squeezed her hand tighter. "I was caught off guard by a sudden feeling of jealousy that I found overwhelming. I wasn't prepared to feel that way."

Shane's eyes were filled with compassion as she gazed at Oliver. "Oliver, what reason do you have to feel jealous?" she asked, her voice soothing and gentle.

His heavy sigh carried the weight of his frustration. "It seems I am still allowing my past experiences to cloud my judgment and the way I perceive things and myself. I apologize for that."

"Oliver," Shane brought her hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone gently. She leaned in close enough that he could feel the heat of her breath. "I don't know how to convince you that you have no reason to be jealous." Her gaze was piercing and intense. "Remember what I said? I could have gone back to D.C., but I chose to stay in Denver. Oliver, by the time Steve came to Denver, I'd already met you." Her voice was gentle, soothing, and convincing.

As he listened to her words, a sudden realization dawned on him. The mere thought of being

romantically involved with Shane filled him with a sense of both thrill and apprehension, as if he was standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to take a leap of faith into the unknown. Was he prepared for it? He felt the heat of her hand on his cheek and the softness of her touch as she spoke reassurances to him. He covered her hand with his and brought her palm to his lips.

He stared into her eyes that now glistened with unshed tears. He wasn't sure if he was ready for what was to come, but he knew he couldn't risk losing Shane and the chance for a real love story.

They sat for a few more minutes, Shane's head resting on Oliver's shoulder. Their hands stayed connected as they rocked back and forth. Finally, Oliver spoke. "I'm really happy I bought you this porch swing."

Shane chuckled. "It was the perfect gift. I hope we get much more use from it before we have to put it away for the winter."

"I'm sure we can make that work," Oliver answered.

Shane sat up, a mischievous grin stretching across her face. "Oliver, can I finish my cake now?"

He chuckled and picked up the cake, handing it to her. He watched with fascination her expressiveness as she finished every last bite.

She set the plate back on the table. "Oliver, you said last night didn't unfold as you'd hoped it would." Her eyes locked on his. "How did you hope it would unfold?"

Oliver chuckled to himself. Could she read his mind? "Shall I tell you or show you?" Two can play at this game, he thought. A feeling of boldness surged through him.

Even in the dim light of the porch, Oliver could see her eyes filled with an unmistakable curiosity.

Without another word, his fingers gently pushed aside her bangs that had fallen over her eyes. He paused for a moment, soaking in her beauty, and then silently prayed to the heavens, thanking God for bringing Shane McInerney into his life.

His hand twisted through the silky strands of her hair. As his hand wove deeper through the softness of her hair, shivers ran down his spine. With a gentle pull, he drew her closer to him, his gaze fixed intently on her lips. His heart raced faster as her tongue quickly swept across them. Every fiber of his being tingled with excitement. The evening air seemed to thicken around them, enveloping them in its warm embrace.

The notion of fireworks exploding when lips touched had always seemed like an exaggeration to Oliver, something found only in the pages of romance novels. But, as their lips finally came together, his body trembled as if he stood beneath the final culmination of a 4th of July fireworks show. At that moment, everything around them faded away. All that remained was this exploration of passion and the anticipation of what lay ahead.