Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5 (14 page)

Gods actually exist. Gods actually exist.
“Gods actually exist,” she repeated aloud.

Who would have thought? Now she had so many new questions. Not only about Máax, but about the others, too. How old were they? Where did they come from? Couldn’t one of them speak to Death and just tell him, her, or it to go away? Were all of the male gods as sexy and mysterious as that invisible, card-carrying member of the club-toting club; that manpig; that testosterone-spewing, tank-sized male in the other room?
He is not, and I repeat,
not
sexy and mysterious. Nor does his smell drive you crazy. And you do not have fantasies of him climbing into your bed at night, feeling that warm, solid co…

Ashli! Stop that!

But for three long years, she’d had those erotic dreams of the faceless man. The way he held her against him, their naked skin pressed together, the weight of his large body moving between her thighs and his thick, hard—

Gah! What is wrong with me?

But were those dreams premonitions, too?

Wait. Hadn’t she just established that
he
was beneath
her
? Hell, the “guy” had just shown his true col—okay, not colors—but the guy was a complete miscreant! So why had her mind made this lame-girl U-turn and meandered back to pining for him without her permission?

Strange.
That was so unlike her. The urge to want him, despite her not wanting him, felt overpowering, as if someone else was in the driver’s seat. Maybe it had something to do with this mate thing that Máax had mentioned? But then the connection couldn’t be that strong, could it?

Ashli’s heart returned to an erratic beat. He’d said he was going to erase her from his mind. Maybe the connection between them was more than just a subtle, annoying attraction. Truthfully, she’d been feeling strange from the moment they’d met. She felt all weird and tingly. Maybe when he’d said “soul mate,” he’d meant it as the true meaning of the word.

I’m in serious trouble.
Maybe she’d ask to have him erased from her mind, too, once this was all over.

“Over can’t come soon enough,” she mumbled.

Ten

After the strange, uncomfortable walk to her café with the pretentious invisible man—uh, deity—on her heels, Ashli didn’t know what to expect when she arrived.

More weirdness, she guessed. Of course. What else? This entire situation was an insanity apple covered in insanity caramel. On an insanity stick.

Apocalypse! Yeah, right.
And there was no way in hell she was any sort of savior of the planet. She ran a café.

Okay, but a few days ago, you would have said that the existence of gods or that Death was really after you was crazy.

Crap.
Could there be any truth to what Máax had said?

At least it was late morning and the rush of vacationing caffeine addicts would be over. She wouldn’t have to worry about having an epic freak-out in front of a ton of customers. The thought of a bunch of soldiers running her café and of her leaving it behind for an indefinite period of time did
not sit well. The café was a piece of her family’s history, a cherished, beloved heirloom.

She approached the first small bend in the beachfront road, the one that skirted the edge of the eco-resort next door to her café, and noted something odd: a crowd. All female. Right in front of her shop. Given this was low season for tourists, it was normal to see a few random people strolling down the narrow dirt road, but not a crowd.

Was someone famous in town?
Maybe Spin Doctors, Meat Loaf
—gasp!—
Nirvana?

She approached, realizing the crowd was really a line flowing from her café into the street. She squeezed her way past the eager, chatting women through the front door.

Huhhh?

A team of six men—enormous, frigging smokin’ hot, unshaven men, wearing cutoffs and well-fitted tees—were busing tables, washing dishes, and sweeping the floor. The drool practically flowed from the women’s mouths as they gawked and
ooh-ahed
, waiting for their turn to order something from the largest man, with cropped brown hair and stunning green eyes, who stood behind the register beside Fernando. Ashli had never seen so many sexually ravenous women, nor had she seen so many people inside her tiny café.

Speechless, Ashli also stared at the burly men. The white aprons they wore, the ones with the café’s logo—a tiny, fluffy cloud that said “Cielito Lindo”—looked more like doilies pasted on their massive chests.
It looks like my café was taken over by Chippendales.
And at any moment, the men would burst out into a choreographed dance where they’d reveal that those cutoffs were seamed with Velcro.

Fernando looked up and spotted Ashli. “
Caray
, Ashli. Where have you been?”

She made her way to the register only to be stopped by a short little lady in a neon-orange beach dress. “Excuse me, but the line is back there.” She scowled.

Ashli glimpsed at the mob of glaring female beachgoers. They looked like they might drag her outside and beat her with their flip-flops.

“Uhhh… sorry ladies,” Ashli said apologetically. “I just need this guy for a moment. But I’ll leave the big one right where he is.” Ashli pointed to Fernando. “Can I talk to you outside?”

“Yes, please,” he replied and quickly followed her toward the back patio, out to the beach.

She knew Fernando was about to start asking all sorts of questions, but what would she say? The truth was completely out of the question.
Death is stalking me. An annoying, arrogant, rude, handsome, sexy god, who smells like heaven and is completely transparent, was sent from the future to prevent me from dying, so I can save the planet someday—not that I believe it. Oh, and I’m supposedly his “mate,” whatever that means, but he finds me beneath him and plans to have me wiped from his memory. That bothers me. I don’t know why. I’m stupid.

“From the way you’re walking, I’m guessing your head is better?” Fernando said, catching up and walking beside her.

The wind suddenly picked up, blowing her wild curls over her face.
Oh, good. Maybe then he won’t see the panic in my eyes.

“Fine. I’m fine,” she said, trying to mask her nervousness. “But I need to leave for a while. It’s a… family emergency.”

Fernando grabbed her elbow and stopped her. “Ashli, are you in trouble?” he whispered. “Who are these men? And why do I get the feeling that they are not really your cousins.”

Is that what they’d told him?

“They’re distant cousins. I barely know them.”

“Why don’t they speak?” he asked. “Well, one does—that guy behind the register with me, Brutus. But the others haven’t said a word. It’s really weird.”

Ashli felt a poke in the small of her back. She yelped.

Máax. What a knave!

“Are you okay?” Fernando looked at her with curiosity.

“Ummm… yeah. I have this
annoying
cough. So, so, so
annoying
. I wish it would
go away
.” She felt a tiny pinch on her bottom, causing her to yelp again.

Ohmygod. What a jerk!

Fernando probably thought her marbles were going to show up on the back of a milk carton.

She coughed again, trying to mimic that yelp. “See. Totally annoying. Not funny. Not at all.”

Then she felt something that nearly sent her spinning with her fist, but she resisted. Máax had placed his hand on her ass. And left it there.

“Darn it! Don’t you just hate those?” Ashi swatted a nonexistent no-see-um and turned, using her body to shield the view of her elbow jabbing into Máax’s chest.

Máax grunted on impact, and she made certain to flash a satisfied little smile before coughing again, this time with a deep voice—
hack, hack, hack
—to mask Máax’s groan.

“Damn pests!” she said. “Don’t you just want to squish them with your bare hands?”

Fernando stared. “Are you sure your head injury is better?”

Nope!
“I have to go, Fernando.” She stepped to the side, but the hand returned to her ass. Did he think this was funny? “Oh! And don’t worry about my cousins,” she added. “They’re the quiet type but totally harmless. I’ll call you every day and check in on things. Okay?”

“Uh… Okay.” He gave her another look, this one saying that he thought she was completely full of shit.

Smart guy!

She gave him a hug, and they headed back toward the café. Once inside, the tallest of the men stopped and stared for a moment before pasting on an exaggerated smile. “Ashli. My dear cousin. Say hello to Uncle Máax for us. We hope he recovers from his head cold.”

Ashli smiled back uncomfortably. “Thanks. I’ll let him know, Brutus.”

She pushed her way through the anxious female crowd and headed outside. A black SUV with tinted windows immediately pulled up, and Máax ushered her toward it. Their ride, she presumed.

Just then, a scraggly-looking older man wearing a worn straw hat and a grungy shirt stepped between her and the vehicle.
“Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora.”
He shoved a flier in her face.

The end of the world is coming. Repent now. Jeez, thanks.

“Uhhh.
Gracias
?” She took the piece of paper and waited for the man to move from her path, which he did not.

“Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora,”
the man repeated, a wild look in his eyes. What did he want?

“All right. That’s about enough,” Máax blurted out. “I get the point, but you’re certainly not helping my confidence here.”

Unable to see anyone, the man stumbled back and fell on his ass.

“Máax,” Ashli chastised.

“Oh. He had it coming. Trust me,” Máax replied as the man scurried away, flashing frantic glances over his shoulder. “
Así es!
” Máax barked at the fleeing man. “This fucking world ain’t over until I say it’s fucking over! You got that?”

“Wow. Nice. Real nice, Máax,” she grumbled and hopped inside the awaiting SUV, feeling the large, annoying, transparent deity sneak in one final grope of her ass as he slid in beside her.

The moment the door closed, she swung with her hand, and it landed with a loud slap.

“Ouch!” Máax hollered. “What the
infernum
was that for?”

Ashli rubbed her stinging palm. “Don’t ever do that again, you giant perv!”

“What? My hand slipped.”

“Oh, right. Just like it slipped when I was talking to Fernando?” she argued.

“I was simply trying to get your attention,” he grumbled. “You were spending too much time with that male.”

“That was what? A minute?” Ashli responded.

“Sir?” the driver asked. He was another large man, dressed in a black suit and wearing dark glasses. A man who appeared to be his fashion twin sat in the passenger seat.

“Timothy, did you pick up her things from her house?” Máax asked, ignoring her question.

“Yes, sir,” the driver replied.

“And everything else is ready?”

“As you instructed, sir.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Máax said.

Ashli wasn’t going to let him off the hook; she didn’t appreciate him trying to control her. “Máax, answer me. What do you mean, ‘too much time’?”

“A figure of speech, Ashli. My observations were not based on physical time,” he clarified.

“Then what?” she asked.

Long pause. “I simply do not approve of how he looks at you.”

Was he jealous? Of Fernando? Seriously? The thought made her both excited and annoyed. In any case, given what he’d said earlier, his possessiveness was over-the-top hypocritical. “That’s no excuse. Keep your hands off my ass.”

“My ass,” he retorted.

“What?” She turned her head toward the sound of his voice.

“Technically, you are my mate. That makes it mine.”

She rolled her eyes. How dare he! First she was too lowly for him, and now she belonged to him?

“Oh, really?” she asked. “Because if I were to follow your logic, then I could argue that you are my mate, and therefore, your hand belongs to me. In which case, as owner of your hand, I forbid your hand from touching my ass.” She paused. “Or your…” Did gods actually pleasure themselves?

Well, he may be a god, but he’s also male.

“I forbid your hand from ever touching your mandy bar,” she said smugly.

“Mandy bar?” he questioned.

Quiet chuckles erupted from the men in the front. She ignored them.

“Ugh! Yes. Your… you know.” She flashed a glance down at the black leather seat to where his groin would be.

Máax and the men burst out laughing.

“You are quite amusing.” Máax chuckled. “I believe it is called a penis. Can you not say the word?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Well—I-I… I can say it. Penis. There. I said it!”

He continued laughing to himself. “Mandy bar.” He sighed with one last chuckle.

She swatted his arm. “Oh, stop it. My mother didn’t raise me to be vulgar.”