Title: Pink Heart and Cupid Cards

A Valentine's one shot for the Mystery Word Scramble 2011

Written by: Breath-of-Twilight, Bronzehyperion, HismysticMuse, PixieH, ExploitingReality,

DreamsofEdward, RobPfan, Leelan Oleander, and Eternally Addicted.

Rated: M

Edited by: Breath-of-twilight and Mambomama

On February first, I woke up, as usual, to the sound of the daily-paper hitting my front door.

"Damn paperboy," I grumbled as I slid out of bed and scowled at the window. That little fucker

knew exactly what he was doing; and one day, I was going to be waiting for him, and the

second his rolled-up paper hit my door, I would swing it open and give him a piece of my tired

mind.

I slipped on my Hello Kitty slippers and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, where a

fresh pot of coffee was already brewed and waiting for me. The thick, rich smell permeated the

air, and I inhaled deeply, letting it pull the remaining fog from my brain.

I filled my cup and made my way to the front porch to where my swing sat, swaying in the

gentle breeze. Today was Monday, and I didn't work Monday's. Only four days a week for me. I

needed one day a week, a weekday, to get my fill of need and want, to torture myself with the

unattainable, to watch him for the mere ten to fifteen minutes he was within my eyesight; my

green-eyed god of a mailman.

My cup was nearly empty when the loud bark of the one of my neighbor's dogs caught my

attention. My eyes darted in the direction of the ruckus, and I shuddered. I hated dogs, they

were loud and annoying and slobbery, and when they were wet, they smelled disgusting. It

made my stomach churn uncomfortably just thinking about it, but, with the noise came what I

was waiting for… him.

I put on what I hoped was a calm face and smiled as I watched him stride towards my front

walkway. He was shuffling mail around in his hands, and when he looked up at me, all

twinkling-green encased in black frames and blinding white smiles, my insides rolled and my

girlie bits throbbed. He was so fucking sexy, and I doubt he even knew it.

Good afternoon, Miss Swan. I've got a bundle for you, today." As he said that, my eyes were at

the point of their perusal that landed on his midsection, and I almost choked on the coffee that

was clogging my airways.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment, and snatched the bundle of mail he handed

me that was held together by a thick, red rubber band.

"Okay. Well then, have a good day." And it was no wonder he never looked at me as anything

more than a recipient of mail he had to deliver. I was a low-functioning, bumbling idiot.

My eyes continued to follow his every move; the way the muscles in his tanned legs tensed and

curved with each step he took; the stray hair that he had to constantly swipe away from his

eyes; the tight blue shorts as they crinkled when he stepped a certain way, creasing between

his delectable ass cheeks, cheeks I would love to sink my teeth into. And then, all too soon, he

was gone, out of sight, but never out of mind.

I shuffled through the pile of mail after placing the rubber band around my wrist. Bills...junk

mail...Viagra...funeral planning...I sighed and tossed the last bit of mail on the swing beside me,

but a flash of bright pink caught my eye. I reached over and pushed the plain white and pale

tans away and plucked the vibrant pink up in between my fingers.

It was a plain envelope with nothing but my name and address on it. No return address and no

indication of what it was. Curiously, I tore through the pink and pulled out the blood-red. My

eyes widened and a smile formed on my lips as I read the sweet little note inside the red card

covered in cupids.

A valentine for the most beautiful girl in the whole town.

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as my cheeks flushed a deep red. My flaming cheeks

now rivaling the red valentine I held in my hand. Leaning forward, I glanced quickly down the

street, then sat back with a very unlady-like snort. As if the giver of the card that was sitting in

my hand would be lurking in the bushes, awaiting my reaction to said valentine.

I searched all surfaces of the card, finding no evidence of who the giver may be. I pursed my lips

thinking, wondering once again who it may be. It had to be a single man...Right? Well, maybe it

was a female. I chewed my lip, digesting that revelation. Oh well, as long as they were not

taken, I could deal with the ramifications later.

I cringed as the thought of Mike Newton popped into my head. What were the fucking

possibilities that it would be from him? For one, he was cheap enough to ask the mailman to

deliver a card for him. As long as the address was there, it would reach its destination.

Secondly, he had been hitting on me for months. Every time I had to make a trip to the

hardware store, which is quite often when you're clumsy, he would be all over me like a bloody

lap-dog. And, need I remind you, I hate dirty, disgusting smelly dogs. Would I now need to avoid

the only hardware store in a ten mile radius?

The thought of someone, anyone, seeing me as beautiful was laughable, but I guess we are all

entitled to our opinions. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was kind of

flattering that someone would go to all that trouble to get one little valentine card to me.

I grabbed the mail from beside me, jumping up to shuffle my Hello Kitty covered feet back

indoors. Dream on, Bella, what are the chances that you will ever meet the sender of this

valentine card, anyhow?

Tuesday came too soon. My alarm sounded far away, but when my hand hit the snooze button

and I longed for the freedom to turn around and catch more sleep, reality hit me hard.

I had to work today. Now, I worked at a library which meant I didn't have to leave until noon for

my shift that started at one, but as usual, knowing that I would have to leave the house before

that delicious mailman could make an appearance did bad things for my motivation.

Grumbling and muttering, I turned back to face my alarm clock.

It was only ten. I still had two hours before I had to leave the house.

I decided on a long shower to kill the time, and hopefully wash away my bad mood.

The warm water glided down my body, dripping over the mounds of my breasts, down to the

core of the pulsing spot between my legs. Unable to stop myself, I imagined that the soothing

drops of water were warm fingers playing with my flesh.

The fingers were long and belonged to tanned muscled arms that flexed with the movements of

his fingers slipping inside me.

Green eyes stared back at me, filled with lust, and I felt my own fingers slipping along my inner

thighs and into the heat of my desire.

I kept my eyes closed to focus on the jade orbs of my imaginary lover as I rubbed my spot in

rhythmic circles.

It wasn't before long that I started panting, my body shuddering from a wonderful climax.

Leaning against the cool tiles, I felt flushed at the fact that I had just fantasized about the guy

who delivered my mail every day. It wasn't the first time I had thought of doing that, but to

actually act on it and get off on images of him, no matter how attractive he was, had me

nervous about facing him again.

I got dressed and made some coffee. Pondering on breakfast, I opted for some cereal.

After I finished, I took my coffee outside to the front porch, deciding on enjoying the morning

sun by lounging on my swing for a bit.

I sipped slowly, watching the elderly couple from across the street – the Smiths - shuffle along

the sidewalk to go for their morning exercise.

Mr. Smith gave me a nod, while Mrs. Smith waved at me. I gave a small wave back and watched

them fondly as they moved along the road together slowly.

With my eyes trailing their movements, I nearly choked on my coffee as I saw my tall, well built,

god-like looking object of unrequited affection come into view.

He bid the elderly couple a good day, and before I could look away, our eyes met, and I swore

his lips curled into the most gorgeous grin I had ever seen.

Forcing myself not to swoon, stumble, and look like a complete fool, I waved at him.

I felt content, knowing that I had at least seen him today, even if it had been from a distance.

But that feeling was soon replaced with quivering nerves, because after he delivered the mail

across the street, he crossed and walked straight to my walkway.

I got up to meet him and gave him a small smile as he approached.

"Good morning, Miss Swan." He greeted me with a dazzling smile, leaving me to wonder if he

was this friendly with all the neighbors, or if I was an exception.

"Morning," I said quietly, unable to raise my voice to a proper volume.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"I am afraid I don't have the same amount of mail as I did yesterday, but there is still some." He

grinned as he handed me a small stack. "I hope it's not all junk mail."

At the word "junk", my mind wandered back to what I had done in the shower just a half hour

earlier, and I felt my face flush a heated scarlet as I tried to push those wicked thoughts away.

"Well, I better get going. This mail won't deliver itself, unfortunately." He winked.

I nodded stupidly, willing myself to be articulate. He winked? What did that mean? Was he just

being friendly again or was he actually flirting with me?

Don't be stupid Bella; he meets people all day long, most of them far less bland and much more

communicative than you. There is no way you leave a lasting impression unless it's a negative

one.

"Have a good day, Miss Swan." He beamed his pearly-whites at me before turning and walking

away.

"You too," I mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear me.

I turned back and practically ran into my house, nearly dying of embarrassment.

Once inside, I realized I still had the stack of mail in my hand.

Rifling through it quickly, my eyes searched for the possibility of a mysterious colored envelope

that would only contain my name.

I was shocked when I actually found an oddly shaped red envelope; my name written on it in an

elegant script. I recognized it to be the same as the one from the day before.

I tore the envelope open, and it revealed a card shaped like a heart, with bold black letters in

the middle of the bright red.

"I Give You Mine"

I Give You Mine became my mantra of the day as I went through the usual and often mundane

tasks associated with my job. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job, but I was so far gone, lost in

my head over this second anonymous valentine, that everything was annoying me.

Okay, I wasn't just thinking about the Valentine; I was also having moments of uncontrollable

dirty thoughts about my mailman. Is it against the law to lust after your mail carrier? I also

wondered if their famous creed neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, nor the

winds of change, nor a nation challenged, will stay us from the swift completion of our

appointed rounds, ever applied to the boudoir, as well.

I shouldn't have been surprised when my co-worker Angela cornered me and confronted me

about my lack of focus and inattention. "You're just not yourself today, Bells. You seem to be

flushed. Is everything okay? You're not getting sick, are you?"

Had it been anyone else asking me, I probably would have shut down, but Angela was sweet,

sincere, and looked seriously concerned.

"Nah, Ang, I'm okay."

"I'm here if you want to talk about it, okay?"

Did I want to talk about it? There was the chance that maybe she'd have some insight into all

of this, but could I spill the details of my secret crush with her?

I decided to hold off for now, but knew that I could eventually go to her with questions, if I had

them. Angela was observant, and maybe she had seen someone in the library checking me out

as I was checking books out. The thought of someone staring at me made me nervous, and for

the rest of my shift, I jumped at every little noise that rang out in the old building. I was pretty

sure I had completed an entire cardio workout after all the jumping, leaping and running I did.

Yes, I may have run away from a squeaky door.

Twice.

The whole thing was getting ridiculous. Why would someone send me anonymous valentines?

And why would I ever entertain the thought that it was my green-eyed hottie in federally-issued

shorts doing it? Seriously, it was probably Newton.

When I got home from work, I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror examining

myself, trying to make sense of things and give myself a pep talk. I was not ugly, but I was also

no Sports Illustrated bathing suit model, or glamorous Natalie Portman, I was just Bella Swan.

Bella who has nice soft brown hair, deep chocolate eyes, pouty kissable lips, mid-sized tits, that

can still stand-at-attention on their own, and an ass that just wouldn't quit.

I tweaked my nipples, then slapped my ass for emphasis.

Why the hell wouldn't someone send me not one, but two valentines? I'm seriously fuckable.

I fist pumped at myself in the mirror, then laughed at the stupidity of it all.

After crawling into bed, I looked at the anonymous announcements of adoration and sighed as I

pictured my perfect man meeting me on the porch tomorrow with another one, and praying

that this time, it would name him as my admirer.

Wednesday brought with it a loud and unruly thunderstorm, and my mood matched the

weather. I knew that the rain always slowed him down, and I wouldn't get to see him today

before I had to leave for work. I knew if my friends were aware of my secret obsession with my

too-fucking-hot for words mailman they'd think I was insane and some kind of crazy stalker.

On most days, I was able to hide it, but today, Angela picked up on my grumpiness. By the end

of the day, I had made a bee-line for the door in order to avoid answering any of her questions.

As I reached my front door, I was certain there was nothing that would lift my spirits today.

That was until I went through my mail and found yet another anonymous Valentine. This one

was heart shaped and made from soft-pink colored velvety paper with the words, Mine Beats

for Only You, embossed on it. Looking at it brought an ear splitting grin to my face. It was the

first time I had genuinely smiled all day.

Exhausted from the long day, I didn't bother with dinner and headed straight for bed. I drifted

to sleep wondering who could be sending me the cards as I rubbed the soft paper across my

cheek and thinking there was something familiar about how it smelled.

Thursday brought sunshine, again, and I was beyond thrilled when I heard that familiar bark

down the street alerting me to the arrival of the postal service's very own version of the Greek

God Adonis. He was early today, as if he knew I had work and couldn't wait for him all day like I

did on Mondays.

I sat on my swing and eagerly waited as he came into view. His strut, alone, was enough to

make my heart-rate increase. Watching the muscles in his legs flex and the swagger of his hips

with each step he took was practically hypnotizing.

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan," came his usual greeting. "The weather is much better today," he

added, as he dug into his bag and pulled out the stack of mail he had for me.

"Um, yes it is," I managed to force out as he handed it to me.

"Well, I've got lots to deliver today. Our load always increases this time of year. I wouldn't want

to be the reason someone's sweetheart got their heart broken if they didn't receive their

valentine on time." He flashed me a gorgeous smile and was on his way.

Mmm, I thought. What I wouldn't give for him to unleash his load on me.

When I pulled myself from the daze his appearance left me in, I remembered his mention of

delivering valentines. I began flipping through the envelopes in my hand faster than a speeding

locomotive.

And there it was, glossy pink with a black and yellow bumble bee flying around a shiny red

heart that said, Will You Bee Mine.

Friday was no different. I waited on the porch hoping he might be early again, and I smiled and

squealed inwardly as I watched him as he strolled up the walkway to my porch. He melted me

with his sexy lopsided smile, told me to have a nice day, and after giving me my mail, was on his

way. And just like every other day this week, there was another pink valentine. I began to

think back over all the cards I'd gotten during the past five days. The one thing that stood out to

me the most was how none of them had a return address or even a name on them. For

someone who was so determined to have me as their sweetheart, they sure seemed to be a big

coward when it came to telling me who they were. I mean, how was a girl to become

someone's love if she didn't know who it was. It was beginning to get frustrating.

After a long day of trying my best to dodge Angela and her endless questions again at work, I

made my hasty escape out the door and around the corner to the hardware store. I was damn

tired, but determined after getting yet another Valentine today, that it was time to do some

sneaky detective work.

Although I desperately wished it was my green-eyed sex god of a mailman sending these

anonymous Valentine's, I was quite sure it had to be that creep, Mike Newton, vying for my

affection, and just the thought of it made me want to vomit. The moment I walked through the

door of the store, I regretted my decision in having done so. I felt a chill go up my spine as the

vile Mike Newton was already at my side with a huge shit-eating grin spread across his face and

his ever-wandering eyes that, of course, scanned the entire length of my body.

Trying urgently to pry his eyes from my tits, I cleared my throat, pulling his stare away from my

body. When he finally looked me in the eye, I told him that I had a leaky pipe under my kitchen

sink. That was my lame excuse for being there, and I followed behind him as he searched for

the tool I would need to fix my problem. While he was still searching through shelves, I asked

several questions, hoping that he would inadvertently let it slip that he was my secret admirer.

Sadly, after what felt like hours of mindless chatter, I paid for the stupid tool and left the store,

no closer to finding out just who this mystery man was, and my frustration was starting to boil

over.

Saturday afternoon found me waiting on my front porch, once again, as that sexy mailman

came strolling up the sidewalk towards me. "Afternoon, Miss Swan, lovely day, isn't it?"

I felt the blush creep into my cheeks, "Yes it is," I mumbled, barely able to speak. This man had

to see the effect he was having on me.

The corner of his mouth lifted into that crooked grin of his, as he reached in his bag and pulled

out my stack of mail and handed it to me.

"Well, have a great afternoon, see you on Monday." He smiled as he turned and continued up

the street.

"Yeah, see you Monday," I croaked, knowing there was no way he heard me.

I looked down at the stack of mail and quickly flicked through it until I came upon yet another

red envelope. Ripping it open, I pulled out a pink velvety heart that had, "My heart belongs to

you," written across it in big red letters.

Once again, there was no return address or postmark on the envelope. This was getting

ridiculous. What a coward, I thought, as I stumbled back into the house.

Sunday went by without much excitement, and by the time Monday had come around, I'd

spent so much time searching for clues, that I was seriously starting to get annoyed.

This being my one day off during the week, I was bound and determined to get some answers

from my hot-ass mailman. He had to be delivering them for someone right? With no postmark,

that had to be the case.

If only I could get my mouth to function properly when he was near me, because the moment

he appeared with my stack of mail, my entire body went limp.

"Hello, Miss Swan. Did you enjoy your Sunday?" He smiled and handed me my mail.

"Yesss...," I stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Okay, well have a nice day." He chuckled as he turned and walked away.

I was left standing there, dazed and confused. What just happened? This man was going to be

the death of me.

I made my way back into the house, plopping myself onto the couch, and thumbed through the

mail. I ignored the lot until a fuchsia colored card scripted with my name piqued my curiosity.

This one was a little different from the others, and my heart raced as my fingers tore into the

envelope.

Gently, I pulled out the card. It seemed that the paper was handmade, but dyed to match the

envelope. The front of it was relatively plain, just with one delicately pressed Fuchsia flower.

My fingers touched the petals gingerly before I opened the card. Inside it said, "Love is not love

that alters when it alteration finds."-Shakespeare

My eyes narrowed over the words, reading and re-reading them, all the while wondering why

would he choose those words, this quote? What if my admirer chose the words because of his

knowledge of my love of literature, or maybe because of my occupation?

Have I met him? Maybe he frequented the library…

I reread the words, analyzing them. Did he mean that he felt me his love true, a constant even

through the difficulties… or that love is unchanging no matter what obstacles or hard trials? But

then, alteration means change. Maybe there was a change coming...

The idea of change was as exciting as it was worrisome.

My ideas and speculations on how these valentines had found their way to me and of someone

possibly watching me disturbed me again, momentarily. But as much as my self-preservation

wanted to muse over possible scenarios, I decided that these valentines were most likely

harmless.

But, I needed to be proactive in figuring out the sender's identity… just in case.

The obvious place to start would be to ask the object of my desire where he was getting these

cards. There was no stamp on any of them, so they weren't being sent through the postal

system. So, again, where was he getting them?

My delicious mailman wouldn't need a stamp. He could just pop them in with my regular mail.

Occam's Razor, right? Simplest theory is usually the correct one.

That was a lovely fantasy that occupied my brain for a very tasty ten minutes. Of course, if it

was him, why go through all the effort? Why not just hand it to me, or at least fish for clues as

to whether or not I liked them?

Well, thinking of these sorts of questions seemed to be a little pointless when I couldn't

physically bring myself to ask him any of them. Forming a simple sentence was hard enough it

seemed.

And, I thought, if they are from him, should I find it romantic or really creepy? Is it a lack of

courage or a game to him?

If it was him, that is.

I was fairly sure it wasn't that fucktard, Newton, but what if it wasn't anyone I knew? Did that

make the cards harmless, romantic gestures designed to woo me? God, must lay off the

romance novels, Bella... Or could it be something more sinister?

Ok, not going down that road. Bad, bad idea.

So, having ruled out actually speaking to my mailman, and stridently avoiding becoming

paranoid about having a possible stalker, I resolved to speak to Angela when I saw her at work

on Tuesday.

I woke up at nine on Tuesday morning, after having a restless night. Thoughts of anonymous

Valentine's Day cards kept rolling and churning round my brain so much that I couldn't fall into

my usual deep sleep.

I stumbled into my kitchen-quite literally-as I let the aroma of brewing coffee pull me from my

bed. I figured I'd wake myself up before I showered. The last time I'd thought a shower would

be a good way to wake myself up, I'd picked up my body scrub in place of my shampoo. Not

good.

As I was savoring that first sip of the morning, I realized I hadn't closed the curtains the night

before. I wasn't too worried, as my house wasn't interesting enough to garner much attention.

So, I really wasn't bothered that I wasn't dressed.

That was until I heard the familiar bark that always signaled the impending arrival of Mr. Greeneyes.

Nah...no way. Far too early for his rounds. Must be barking at a cat or a bird or something.

So, I flicked on the radio as I pottered round the kitchen, alternating between sipping my

morning java and cleaning the dishes from last night that I'd been too preoccupied to do. My

morning zombie-like state faded fairly quickly as I sang along to the radio-though it also may

have had something to do with the fact I was on my second cup of Joe-and soon, I was literally

dancing round the kitchen.

So, it was a complete shock to discover the stunning face of Mr. Green-eyes smirking at me,

mail in hand, through my window.

It was also completely mortifying.

I had slept in only my tiny blue girl-boxers and an old high school tee, and I was pretty sure my

hair looked like a bird's nest on a haystack.

Oh, hell.

The beautiful man waved at me to open the door, his crooked grin never faltering. He was

waving an A5 Jiffy bag at me, and I knew I would have to sign for it.

At least I couldn't be more mortified.

I opened the door reluctantly and awkwardly. It wasn't easy to contort my body so that I could,

hopefully, talk and hide my body, simultaneously.

"Morning, Miss Swan. You seem to be in fine form this morning," he said, the side of his oh-sokissable

mouth twitching slightly as he suppressed a laugh.

"Erm...yeah. Just in a good mood, I guess." Hey, a sentence! Check me out!

"I see that." Damn that smirk. "Can you sign for this, please?"

"Sure."

Jesus. This guy had just witnessed my best J-Lo ass shaking, in shorts that can't leave much to

the imagination. I was confident that my mortification quota for the day had been reached. I

just had to suck it up.

"So, do you have big plans this weekend?"

He paused for a split second as he reached out to take the little electronic pad-thing back from

me, before recovering himself and smiling.

"Not sure yet."

"Oh."

"Yourself?"

"Well, I'm not sure myself." I chuckled lightly as I was nervous, and that was better than

standing and staring at his crazy bronze sex-hair.

"Seems we're quite the pair." Was I imagining the possible double meaning? Probably... "See

you tomorrow, Miss Swan."

"Okay."

Wow. What a great line to leave him with.

On the plus side, I actually managed to speak in coherent – if admittedly short – sentences. On

the downside, I hadn't asked him a single thing about those damn letters.

He turned and followed my path and was on to the next house in seconds.

Yeah, so I was glad I waited to have a shower. I needed a cold one after that.

I arrived at work twenty minutes early. Two more cups of coffee and a nice long shower and

I'd finally come to the conclusion that if I was going to figure out just who my cowardly

valentine was-actually forming coherent sentences when it came to my Adonis of a mailman

was apparently out-I was going to have to do some serious detective work.

So, I'd gone over all of the 'evidence', each valentine, and the envelopes they'd come in. I'd

only been able to ascertain a few things. First, they were all obviously from the same person;

the elegant scrawl of my name on each of the envelopes was identical. Second, something I'd

noticed before, no stamp or return address; these were being handed off to the mailman, or

possibly being snuck into my stacks of mail at the post office. I'd briefly tried to recall if I knew

anyone who worked for the USPS and couldn't come up with anyone. And finally, it seemed a

likely possibility that my admirer knew at least a little bit about me, as one of the valentines had

quoted Shakespeare. Of course, the cynical side of me was quick to remind me that

Shakespeare wasn't exactly an obscure author, and his poetry and sonnets probably ended up

on a lot of cards this time of year. Still, it seemed logical to assume that if this person did know

of my affinity for literature, he or she-I still hadn't completely ruled that out-must have seen me

at the library, or at least knew that I worked there.

Which is how I ended up at a big wooden table, partially hidden in the stacks, with my iPod, a

caramel frappuccino, and a pair of sunglasses that would put Lady Gaga to shame. From here, I

had a good view of the computer terminals, reading room and check-out, but was hidden from

the general public. I absently traced the initials of all of the bastard little kids who'd taken pens

and God knows what else to the soft wood grain of the table.

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes of people-watching got me pretty much nowhere. I'd seen a

child throwing a fit over having to choose just three books to check out, a very uncomfortable

woman who was entirely too self-conscious about being in the romance section, and far too

much of a middle-aged man's ass as he squatted down to look at a row of books on a bottom

shelf.

With a resigned sigh, I tossed my sunglasses and MP3 player in my bag, and headed up to the

check-out counter to clock in.

I rounded the corner, uttering an ill-concealed gasp of surprise as a flash of blue, tan and

auburn caught my eye, just outside the huge glass doors that led into the building. I took a few

quick steps forward, ducking behind one of the columns just in front of the magnetic security

detectors. Holy sexy postal worker, Batman! It was him!

I watched in surprise as he entered the air-conditioned building, running a hand through that

delicious riot of hair, before turning into the hallway that separated the library from city hall.

Did he always deliver here? My mind frantically tried to process this information. If that was

true that it was possible that he could be the one…

Don't be ridiculous, Bella, have you seen him? Because I know you've looked in a mirror. No

way would a guy like that go for a girl like you. All sexy green eyes and gorgeous smiles…

"Whatcha looking at, Nancy Drew?"

I gave a sharp yelp, before clapping my hands over my mouth and turning to glare at Angela,

who was apparently a much better spy than I was, considering how stealthily she'd snuck up on

me. Of course, considering who I was looking at, the building could've toppled around me and I

probably wouldn't have noticed.

Hand over my racing heart; I narrowed my eyes at her. "Jesus Christ, don't do that!"

She laughed, leaning around me to peek at the doors. I couldn't help but glance again, and it

was at that moment that my mailman reappeared, muscled forearm flexing as he pushed the

door open and left.

"Oh yeah," Ang practically purred. "That guy. I would looove to get some mail from him," she

admitted with a grin.

I forced a chuckle, but it came out nervous and strained.

"So, why were you spying on the mail guy?"

She followed me to the counter, where I clocked in and immediately started helping a small line

of patrons check out.

"I wasn't spying," I muttered, handing the woman in front of me her library card. "I was… I

don't know. Looking. I was curious."

"Mm-hmm," she responded with a sly grin.

I rolled my eyes as we took care of the line, before turning to sort the books on reserve, held

behind the massive front desk.

"Hey, Ang?" I finally got the courage to ask.

"Yeah?"

"Do we not get our mail here?" I tried to recall a time when I'd actually seen a postal worker in

the library, but couldn't remember seeing anything but the mail, neatly stacked on the desk.

She shook her head, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Nah, it all goes up to

city hall, and I pick it up there. It's easier that way, since we're not always up here to sign for

packages."

I nodded slowly. Well, that explained why I'd never seen him in here.

"Do you think you could see us, if we were like, in the stacks or helping out at Information, from

the doors?"

She blinked at me silently for several long seconds, obviously unable to comprehend why I'd

even be asking such a question.

I sighed, "Humor me, please?" I could already feel the tell-tale blush starting.

Her slender shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know. Probably. I mean, if we can see

out the doors, I imagine someone could see in." Her tone was playful, and a grin was tugging at

her lips.

"Yeah, yeah." I rolled my eyes.

"So, spying on the mailman. Very odd questions about visibility in the building. And don't think

I didn't see your little reconnaissance mission back in Non-Fiction."

And there it was… My cheeks flushed hot, giving me away.

"Bella, what's going on?"

Sighing, I dug my bag out from the small cubby in the desk where I'd stashed it. Pulling out the

manila envelope I'd put all of the valentines in, I handed it to her; It took a few seconds for her

to actually pry my fingers off.

She quickly pulled out the bright scraps of pink, magenta, red and crimson, looking through

them quickly, her brows rising incrementally with each of the valentines.

"There's no return address or stamp on any of these!" She said it in such a way that it sounded

way too much like an accusation. Like I asked someone to send me these.

"I realize that," I deadpanned.

She looked up, taking in my slightly disgruntled expression. "Right, sorry. It's just… I don't

know. It's either very creepy or very romantic. I haven't decided which, yet. Did you talk to

your mailman about their potential origin?"

I shook my head, suddenly finding my Converses very interesting.

"Why not? Bella, this guy could be a stalker, or worse."

"I know! It's been harmless until now, though, right?"

She scoffed. "Yeah, until the fourteenth when this guy shows up at your door to murder you!"

I frowned. "Talk about jumping to the absolute worst possible conclusion," I grumbled.

Ang took a deep breath, pushing her glasses up for a second to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just a little worried." She offered me a wry grin. "Who's going to cover your

shifts if you're being held hostage by a lunatic?"

My smile returned, and I nudged her lightly.

"Seriously though, it seems like the easiest and most accurate way to figure out who is sending

them is just to talk to your postal carrier."

I cringed, my blush deepening as I desperately tried not to think of all of the times bronze hair

and intense green eyes had invaded my dreams, waking and otherwise.

"I tried, it's just…"

"What? Unfriendly? Ugh, I don't know that I've ever met a friendly government worker.

They're always-"

"No, no," I quickly cut her off. "He's…very friendly."

She caught on to my tone far too quickly. "Oh, is he?" She boosted herself up onto the

counter, looking at me pointedly. "So, who is he? What's he like?"

I rubbed my hand over my eyes, before giving in and tipping my head toward the door and

raising my eyebrows.

"What?" She looked around me, before the light of recognition appeared. "Wait, that guy?

Tall, tan and with an ass that should practically be illegal in those shorts?"

I nodded helplessly.

"Well, I can definitely see why that might be problematic." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Wait

a sec, Bella, did you ever think… I mean, it could be him! He's the most obvious suspect!"

I rolled my eyes, turning to start stacking returns on a cart. "Yeah right. Let's be serious here,

alright? That guy, crushing on me? In the Twilight Zone maybe."

Ang snorted. "You really don't see yourself very clearly, Bella. I'd bet lots of guys like you."

"Yeah, like Newton?"

She snickered. "He doesn't count. Besides, no way it's him. He wouldn't be able to recite

Shakespeare even if it guaranteed he'd get laid."

I turned to push the cart toward the stacks when she stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Bells?" Her tone and expression were serious now.

"Yeah?"

"Just, be careful, alright? I would hate for anything to happen to you."

I nodded, giving her the most reassuring smile I could. "Of course."

I was hardly able to sleep that night as I tossed and turned, unable to shake off the thoughts

that kept flitting through my head. My conversation with Angela was running through my head

like some highlighted sports reel on ESPN.

The more I thought about what she had said, the more I knew she was right. There was the

possibility that my secret admirer did not have good intentions. I had to find out who it was,

but I also had to do it in such a way that if the person did have good intentions and was just

secretly smitten with me and afraid to admit it, I didn't scare him off- I was sure now, for some

reason, that my admirer was male gendered- it might be a bit tricky, but it had to be done.

Finally, coming to some sort of a solution, I was able to fall asleep.

The next morning, I woke with a renewed resolve. I was determined to find out who was

sending me the valentines, and with that came the realization that I couldn't do this alone; I

would have to have some help. Angela would be at the library if I wasn't, so that ruled her out.

However, this kind of covert operation would be right up my best friend, Alice's, alley.

She had been incredibly busy with the grand opening of her new fashion boutique, and I'd been

so wrapped up in Mr. Sex-on-Legs Mailman, that it had been a couple weeks since I had spoken

with her. But I knew, if she had the time, she would be eager to help out, and hopefully she

wouldn't be too miffed with me for not clueing her in on the valentines sooner.

It was the tenth, so I only had three days left. With that in mind, I picked up the phone and

called Alice. Just as I had suspected she was all in and eager to help. I could hear her feign a

fake pout as I filled her in about the cards and the fact I had kept it from her this long. However,

the moment I asked her for some help, she let loose such a high pitched, deafening squeal into

the phone that was so loud, I was shocked the glass windows in her boutique didn't shatter.

She agreed to meet me that evening for a late dinner after I was finished my shift at the library.

~∞Ѿ∞~

As the two of us went over the details again, she rifled through the cards I had received so far.

This included the one I received today which said, I only have eyes for you.

Alice looked up at me from the stack of valentines with a sly smile on her face. "Bella, I have to

agree with Angela," she said to me. "I think there is the very real possibility that your admirer

might be the mailman."

I tried to dissuade her way of thinking, but like Angela, she told me that I really didn't see

myself very clearly and that I was far more pretty than I gave myself credit for, and that any

man would be lucky to have me as their valentine.

She also pointed out all of the reasons for which she thought it might be Mr. Hottie the mail

delivery man, and the more she went on about it, the more she had me convinced that just

maybe there was a slim chance.

After she got her sister-in-law to cover her boutique for the day, Alice and I set up our

operation, Decode the Secret Admirer plan.

I was up much earlier than I needed to be the next morning. It was Thursday the 11th, which

meant, if they were from my Adonis-like mailman, we had to find out in the next couple of

days, and Alice was busy today and tomorrow; so, that left us with only Saturday.

Thursday and Friday went by in a blur of craziness. The library was buzzing with activities for

children, and I was caught right in the middle of it. I didn't see my sexy mailman either day,

which disturbed me more than I'd ever admit, but it wasn't odd or anything. Before the

valentine's began arriving, I usually was only lucky enough to see him three of four times a

week, and those were damn good weeks.

Thursday's valentine made me smile. It was light purple and had a fluffy exterior, all soft and

furry-like, and it read Valentine's Day is the perfect day for two hearts to beat as one.

Friday's valentine was much simpler. It was a plan white card, with pink and blue hearts on it,

that said, I choo-choo-choose you; and inside was a picture of a small train, hauling a heart up a

steep track.

Alice arrived bright and early Saturday morning, and after stopping to get extra large coffees at

the local Starbucks, we set up the first leg of our operation; we were camped out on the

parking lot across from the post office. Afraid that I'd make a bumbling idiot of myself if I tried

to question him, we decided that watching him would be the best way to go. From here we

could watch for my mailman to start his day and see if anyone approached him. With coffee

and binoculars in hand, we waited. We had a clear view of the door he would have to exit as he

made his way to his mail truck.

The gasp that escaped Alice's lips once he'd come into our view didn't go unnoticed by me.

"Holy fucking hotness, Bella," she murmured. "Damn if I wasn't so in love and happily married

to Jasper, I'd be all over that delicious meaty morsel in a heartbeat."

I could only giggle at her response, knowing that I couldn't fault her for thinking that one bit.

We had determined that if someone were approaching him and requesting him to deliver the

valentines for him, it had to be happening either here as he was leaving to start his day, or

somewhere along his delivery route. There was no way he would risk his job by agreeing to

deliver mail for free while he was still in the confines of the mail service's building.

When no one approached him before he left the lot, we came to the conclusion that it must be

along his route, so we followed him.

As the morning wore on, there were a few times when we thought he had noticed us which

made me grateful we had thought to somewhat disguise ourselves behind baseball caps and

gaudy sunglasses.

We were now in my neighborhood, and still no one had approached him. There had been a few

people, who had given him mail to deliver, but none of the pieces of mail had been even

remotely close to resembling anything similar to a valentine, and we were certain of this since

we were able to have a clear view through the binoculars Alice so ingeniously decided to bring

along.

Something else that caught my attention was that I was not the only woman on his route that

had eyes for him. There had been the sleazy redhead who came out to greet him in her too-short

silk robe and her high heeled slippers, and then the tall seductive looking strawberry

blond with looks to die for. They had both practically thrown themselves at him. But he was

totally oblivious. He never even made eye contact with them as he gave them their mail and

seemed in quite a hurry to get away from them.

"Maybe he's married or he already has a special someone in his life?" I said to Alice.

She retorted with the quote from the card I had received yesterday, "Or maybe he only has

eyes for you and has no interest in those skanks. From what you've told me, he always makes it

a point to at least say hello, to give you a smile, a happy greeting. But, Bella, he acted as if those

women didn't even exist. They may as well have been invisible."

I couldn't deny what she was saying, and it had crossed my mind, as well. Once we'd gotten

close enough to my house, I discarded my disguise and got out of the car. I then walked down

the opposite side of the street I knew he'd be walking on to get to my house. I had a bag from

the corner drugstore in my had with a few things in it to appear as though I had been walking

from there should I happen to be noticed by him. I was grateful that I had considering that I was

just a few houses away from mine, when I looked across the street and saw him quickly wave to

me with a bright smile on his face before he continued on to the next house.

It was extremely nerve wracking to wait for him to arrive at my house, knowing that Alice was

watching him still and that we'd been essentially stalking him all day.

So I sat on my swing, nervously chewing on my bottom lip as I waited for him to appear at the

end of my walkway.

Once he did, I couldn't help but notice a few changes in our normal routine. His hand brushed

against mine and hovered there as he handed me my mail. And I could have sworn I noticed

him giving me the once over as his eyes ran up and down the length of my body, and they

sparkled in a way I had never noticed before. Could it really be him? I thought as I held yet

another pink envelope in my hand. It just seemed so impossible to me.

I tore open the envelope to find the prettiest of the valentines yet. It was a glossy-pink shaped

heart, with a pretty silver scroll like design bordering it. When I opened it I was surprised to find

another quote from Shakespeare: One half of me is yours, the other half yours- Mine own, I

would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours!

He appeared to be sending me the message that his whole heart belonged to me.

When I had arrived at work, I filled Angela in on what we had learned as well as the details of

the new card. She reiterated, once again, how she was certain my mailman was the one.

A few moments later, my phone buzzed, alerting me to a new text message. It was Alice texting

to inform me that she had watched him the rest of his route and no one had approached him at

all and that she had followed him home from the post office and learned that he lived only a

couple of blocks away.

This information only left me even more flabbergasted than I had been before.

That afternoon as I climbed my front stairs, I tried to resign myself to the fact that I just might

never know who it was. I was out of time, and I really wasn't any closer to figuring anything out.

Disappointed, I set about doing some chores around the house; and then I left to walk down to

the corner drugstore to pick up some valentines for the party the library was hosting in the

children's section.

As I slowly perused through the section designated for Valentines' Day related items, I stopped

dead in my tracks when I caught a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye. Backing up so I

could peek around the end of the aisle and not be seen, I saw, standing there in all his sex god

glory, none other than my fuck-hot mailman. I was stunned. There he was, rooting through the

rack of Valentines, and it only took me a few minutes of watching him to notice that every

single one he picked up was pink and heart shaped. Shocked beyond words, I quickly dug into

my purse and called Alice.

She told me that she was close by, running some errands herself, and she'd be right there.

I waited for her, watching him as he continued to look through the cards. He seemed to be

looking for something very specific, but having a hard time finding it. I nearly gave myself away

when Alice came up behind me scaring me to death, almost causing me to yelp out loud. She

handed me her car keys and told me to wait for her there. I took the keys, and just as I was on

my way out the door, I glanced back at the right moment to see Alice pretend to accidentally

bump into my mailman.

It had only been about fifteen minutes, but it had felt as though hours had gone by, when Alice

finally came around the side of the building, walking towards her car. I couldn't help but notice

the beaming smile that could light up the whole state of Texas.

I was about to burst at the seams when she refused to tell me anything until we had reached

my house. But when we did, what she told me was beyond anything I could have hoped for.

"Oh. My. God. Bella, it's him. I know it's him," she squealed.

"Alice, you are insane. What makes you so sure? Did he tell you that? He doesn't even know

you," I said to her.

"No. Well… let's just say he didn't tell me your name. But he was having a hard time finding the

right card. He told me he had already given several cards to his valentine and that, now, he was

finding it extremely difficult to find one that would top all the others. So, I asked him if he

would like some help. He said he would appreciate that, and then he told me about her. You."

"So what did he say that convinced you?" I asked, pumping her for more information. I still

wasn't sure she was right.

"He told me how he sees her every day while he does his job and how it's the highlight of his

day and the part he looks forward to the most. I asked him to tell me about her so I could

better help him select a card. He described you perfectly, Bella. Your, hair, your eyes, your skin

tone, everything he said screamed at me, you. It has to be him. I am certain of it. So, you need

to figure out some way to let him know, you know. He said he was afraid she wouldn't return

his feelings, and that is the reason he had been giving her valentines anonymously."

Alice had to go. She needed to finish her errands that she was in the middle of when I'd called

her. The information she had given me left me with no other option that to accept that it was

indeed him. So what did I do now? Where was I supposed to go from here?

~∞Ѿ∞~

Sunday morning, I woke up with a huge smile on my face and a tentative flame burning in my

chest. Today was Valentine's Day, and even though there was no mail delivered, my mailman

would obviously have to find some way to drop off my valentine. So, I decided in the wee hours

of the morning, as I lay awake contemplating the whole thing and trying to keep myself from

flicking my bean to kinky positions with my pretty mailman, that I was going to ambush him,

pray it was indeed him sending the cards to me, and have my wicked way with my heart's

desire.

I scrambled out of bed and instantly did a face plant as my feet tangled up in my blue cotton

sheets. I groaned at my clumsiness, but didn't let it dampen my mood, and ran full-hilt towards

my craft cupboard. I pulled out everything I would need and set to work.

By seven AM, I had the giant card done. I briefly wondered if this might blow up in my face, but

decided it was going to have to just be. I needed to do this, if not for my own sanity, then for

my cooche's; the poor, neglected thing was practically drooling with her need for my tall,

bronze and delicious mailman.

I grabbed the tape and darted for the front door, and with the stealth of a ninja, I taped up the

card and attached the dangling pink and yellow ribbons and then shut the door as quietly as

possible. Irrationally, I worried if I made too much noise, I might alert my neighbors to my less

than innocent activities. I could only imagine what old Mrs. Angleman, who lived three doors

down, would think if she could see me now. Poor lady would probably have a mild heart attack.

I jumped in the shower and began washing my hair. I worried there was a gaping hole in my

plan. Which there was. I just couldn't think of any way around it. With no mail being delivered

today, I had no idea when to expect Edward to slip the card into my box or under my door. As I

shut off the shower and grappled for a towel, I decided I would just chill in the bedroom for the

day, turn some music on and just wait it out. He had to come. Alice had said he was buying

another card, so he would have to come here to drop it off.

I lay around wearing nothing but my pink and white negligee that had sat dormant in my

lingerie drawer for years now, and thumbed through a copy of Wuthering Heights. I was at a

part that honestly kind of bored me, and without realizing it, I fell asleep.

In my dreams, Edward had come, and he had found my surprise and loved it. We made love

into the wee hours of the morning and fell asleep in each other's arms, whispered words of

desire and want and forever falling from our swollen lips.

Something warm and smooth was running against my outer thigh. I leaned into the spark-filled

touch and made a keening noise when the warmth and electricity faded and dulled. Frantically,

I rubbed my legs together and willed my drowsy mind to produce better figments of sexual

release.

"Bella, you're so fucking gorgeous." I smiled as my memories finally lived up to the real thing.

He sounded so real, so close and so damn hot using expletives and my name in the same

sentence. I let out a soft moan and ran my hand down my side, edging slowly towards my

pulsing center. I could already feel moisture gathered there, simply from his voice; and I

struggled to pull a mental picture of him from the recesses of my mind as my fingers grazed my

swollen nub and my back arched.

"Mmmm, Edward," I mumbled sleepily, my eyes still closed and my heart racing. I wasn't ready

to open my eyes and lose my only connection with him.

"God, Bella. You have no idea what seeing you touch yourself does to me. Fuck."

"Touch me, Edward."

That simple demand brought forth two warm hands. They slid and caressed and tickled my

flesh, causing goose-bumps to speckle my skin. His hands moved slow, cautious almost. I

wanted more. I needed to feel him, have him let loose the delicious pleasures I was sure his

hands could give to me.

I thrust up as his hand skimmed across where I needed it most, and my eyes snapped open

when a deep growl reverberated across the expanse of my belly. Deep, mossy green emeralds

shaded in throbbing black peered back at me and my breath hitched in my throat, along with an

embarrassingly husky moan.

I wasn't dreaming, anymore. He was here. I quickly scanned the room, and found that it was

still light out. I was on my bed, and at my side lay the card I had left for him.

"You almost gave me a heart attack with that stunt of yours Miss Swan. What if I hadn't been

the one to find it? Did you think about that? It drove me absolutely mad thinking that someone

could have seen that picture of you, all spread and smiling and waiting for me."

All my confusion and inhibitions flew right out the window as Edward's hot tongue licked from

my navel to the lace that was wrapped around my pebbling breasts.

"Holy fuck…." Edward's mouth crashed against mine. Soft lips clashing with whiskers and husky

grunts swirling with needy whimpers, and then it was like I was a woman possessed. My hands

darted up and wrapped around his damp locks. I tugged him closer, until he was practically

covering my body, and still he was not close enough.

"So long, my love. So long, I have thought about you this way. What it would be like to touch

you, to feel you, to kiss you. Not once was my imagination ever adequate enough. You are

simply intoxicating, and so, so beautiful.

I smiled against his lips and nibbled on his pouty lower lip as I tugged at the hem of his shirt,

desperately needing more skin and less cloth.

Edward didn't make me wait either, he pulled back, tugged at his shirt and in one swift motion,

it was over his head, and so was the scrap of lace La Senza had the nerve to call a bra.

A sharp intake of air drew my eyes away from his tanned, toned chest. Edward's eyes were

blazing, as if on fire, as he stared at my naked breasts, his pink tongue dipping out and sliding

against his lower lip.

"Like what you see, Edward?" I drawled teasingly.

Not a second went by before he looked me right in the face and said, "Yes, very much."

I giggled and squirmed, needing something and everything, and he didn't disappoint. It was like

he knew exactly when and where to touch me, and my face heated as he stared unabashedly

while he slid my panties off, his fingers leaving trails of burning desire down my inner thigh.

I began panting in an embarrassing manner, but I couldn't stop. His touches and nibbles, as he

made his way back up my legs, left me quivering and my limbs useless. I was helpless and horny

as shit, and I bucked wildly as his hot breath ghosted over my swollen, wet flesh. Before the

building moan that was crawling up my throat was able to burst forth, his lips and tongue were

lapping and sucking, and I was lost. My whole body trembled, and within seconds, a blazing

heat swam relentlessly through my body.

I arched and howled out in pleasure, as my vision speckled and faded, and my whole body

collapsed back onto the bed, swelling with huge breaths of air that I couldn't seem to get

enough of.

When I opened my eyes, Edward was there, a small, satisfied-looking smirk playing on his

swollen lips, and I attacked him with my own.

I tugged and groaned and begged. I needed more. I needed him. And I found my lower half

thrusting upwards, just barely grazing the denim of his jeans in a pathetic attempt to get just

that, him.

With frantic fingers, I tugged at the button on his jeans and ripped the zipper down. I kicked

and thrashed and just barely had the jeans past his kneecaps when I shoved him with all my

strength, and giggled when he rolled with a soft grunt onto his back.

His eyes were wide and dark and slightly hooded as I swung my leg over his chiseled body and

ogled him shamelessly.

"Bella…"

"Shh," I interrupted as I grabbed his impressive and hard cook and slid down on it with one

hard thrust.

I cried out as he stretched me fully. It wasn't painful, but I was stretched more than ever

before, and my walls clenched and pulsated at the large invasion. As I leaned down to capture

his lips and simultaneously slid forward with my hips in a rocking motion, his pelvis tickled

against my swollen bud, and I came viciously, my whole body seizing up from the force of it.

Before my body was even able to function properly, Edward had me turned over and on my

back and was thrusting into me vigorously. His dark eyes never left my face as he pushed in and

pulled out and made me lose myself all over again.

Time was of no concern as Edward brought me to the brink of bliss and then shoved me hard

each and every time, many times. But when he finally grunted out my name and collapsed onto

my slick chest, I was so tired and worn out, my eyes began to close and my mind began to shut

down.

With a soft sigh, I felt Edward shift me, and his arm encased my entire waist as he pulled me

back and into him.

As I drifted, I could vaguely hear Edward, murmuring words that made my heart soar and my

insides melt. Finally, finally, I knew the truth, and I felt the same way, too."For so long, Bella.

So, love have I loved you. You are my every breath, and now that I have you, I will never let you

go. I promise. Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

Only two of the reviewers from the Valentine's 2011 countdown were able to unscramble the letters and managed to form the answer—letters were- W I E I A N D E E B V S F I D L X I E T T I E L S R

Answer was… IT WILL BE AS IF I'D NEVER EXISTED.

You twihards disappointed me :-(

Reviews would be great. Tell us how we did? Would we make good detectives?

Basic details for the next countdown are already up on the countdown website, including any already confirmed authors. Link is on my profile. Authors are still being accepted, obviously.

xx