He couldn't control the smile that curved his lips as he pulled up to the curb.  He always tried to keep this stop for last, but the new fuel efficiency measures the company was taking ("No left turns!") had made that impossible lately.  Not today though.  Today he had managed to plan his route just right, earning himself a few more precious minutes with her.

He took a quick glance in the rearview mirror, running his tongue over his teeth and checking for ‘bats in the cave'. 

"Well, it's as good as it's gonna get, old man," he muttered to himself as he descended and walked to the back of the truck.  He wondered what it was this time. 

At first it had been a lamp, then curtains.  Later came the massage table (returned in its somewhat original condition a week later, her eyes never meeting his as she gave him the duct taped package), the yoga mats, the Foreman grill and countless other knick knacks.

She hadn't taken any deliveries for quite a while, and he had surprised himself when he realized that he missed her.  It was the way she answered the door, something about it just got him every single time. 

He would ring the bell and hear her shuffling footsteps, then stand back as she flung the door wide open, watching it recoil against the wall.  She'd catch it with a glint in her eye and lean her hand up against it, looking him up and down.  She'd pinned him with her cool blue eyes the first time and he'd felt like an ant waiting to be squashed.  She'd snatched his clipboard and signed for the package, directing him to drop it just inside the entryway and shutting the door firmly behind him as he left.

The next time the way she'd looked him up and down made him feel a little less like a bug.  When she'd asked if they had to wear the shorts year round ("Yes, Ma'am") he had bitten back a grin.  Since then, every time he saw her he'd left feeling ten feet tall.  She had the ability to make the balding delivery man feel like an Adonis with just a glance, and he enjoyed the hell out of it.

She was waiting for him today, her hand planted against the side of the cheap painted door.  The sun caught her hair just so and he was surprised to see a streak of grey. 

"What do you have for me today, Archie?" Her voice was tired, and when he looked closely, her eyes seemed defeated.

"A package from the Magic Hut, Ma'am," he said, the box tucked under his arm as he held out the clipboard for her to sign. 

She reached for the stylus and he waited for her to boldly scrawl her name on the electronic screen but instead she paused. 

"Am I worth it?"  It was more of a whisper than a question, and he took the opportunity to lean forward a little, surreptitiously inhaling her musky scent, tinged with a hint of stale cigarettes.

"Ma'am?"

"Archie, I mean, would you think," she stammered, the sudden gush of words trickling to a frustrated hiss.  He smiled gently at her, mentally cataloging her vulnerability.  He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice her frown.  She straightened her back, her chin angling upwards at a stubborn angle.  There's my girl!

He grinned as she signed her name with a flourish, handing him the clipboard and accepting the package.  He turned to leave and then hesitated, his foot on the step as he half turned towards her.

"For the record, Miss Levinson, you are absolutely worth it," he stated, squinting at her in the late afternoon sun.  Her lips tightening, she held his gaze for a brief moment and then shut the door firmly with a barely perceptible nod.  With a spring in his step, he headed to his big brown truck and drove off, already wondering when he would see her again.